Chapter 2: Special Skills
Derek
Only two hours have passed since I told Melissa goodbye, and already that tightness is creeping across my chest. It’s a mixture of anger and needing her in my sight where I know she’s safe.
She didn’t press the subject, but all weekend I could tell she wanted to know what I was working on¸ what was “bothering me.”
Damn Nikki. If I weren’t so pleased by the luscious surprise of finding Mel waiting for me half-nude in my condo Friday night, I’d reprimand her for keeping tabs on me. I don’t need an office manager who doubles as my mother, or who reports my behavior back to my aunt—or my fiancée.
Melissa stayed to this morning, Monday. She’s so different than when we first met. Even back then she had that confidence, but she’s happy now. She’s also a little rounder, with our baby on the way. It’s a killer combination. I love it, and every time I’d bury my face in a new curve, she’d shriek and complain loudly. I almost couldn’t let her leave.
Smiling at my desk, I look out the window at the bare winter landscape of the courtyard, thinking of her. This morning as I watched her sleep, I couldn’t help breathing a little prayer of thanks. I don’t pray, but with that angel in my bed, how could I not? She was curled up facing me, her delicate hand under her chin and her dark hair spread behind her on the pillow.
It was like our own world, secure and full of love. She’d stirred, and meeting her beautiful blue eyes, another quiet thank you echoed through my mind, only this time my memories were on our first encounters. How incredibly sexy she was giving in to me, and how breathless I’d been waiting for her to push me away. She never did.
“How long have you been awake?” She’d touched my cheek then smoothed her fingers into my hair.
“Not long.” I’d caught her hand and brought her palm to my lips.
She touched my brow, smoothing it back. “You’re less tense than when I got here, and now I have to leave again.”
“You forget, I’m trained for periods of separation.” Even as I said it, I knew nothing would make telling her goodbye easier.
She pushed up into a sitting position and moved me onto my back. “So being a Marine means you don’t miss me?” Her elbows were bent, and one cheek rested on her palm.
I couldn’t help laughing at her eyes narrowed in disbelief. I wasn’t fooling anyone. “I miss you like the worst pain in the world. Like the desert misses rain.”
“That’s a song.” She kissed me lightly. “And something you have experience with.”
Catching her neck, I pulled her forward for a better kiss, but she arched away before I could take it further. “I want to know more about your training. What are your special skills? Besides not missing me when we’re apart, of course. Can you fly a plane?”
I shook my head with a chuckle. “Sorry, darling. No piloting for me, but I think Patrick did some flying—”
“I don’t believe it. You know things. Tell me!”
Pressing my lips together, my eyes moved down to her chin then to her slim neck where my heart dangled on a thin, gold chain. Yes, I know things.
“You keep so many secrets from me,” she sighed. “What are you thinking now?”
“The things I know aren’t things you want to hear about.” Reaching over, I slid my palm over the curve of her waist.
She caught my cheeks in her hands and drew my gaze back. “I want to know everything about you.”
For a moment I hesitated. Then my eyes were drawn to the scar, that tiny silver line that starts at the top of her forehead, just above her temple, and disappears into her hairline. “I can kill a man with my bare hands.”
Our eyes met again, and I could tell she knew where my thoughts had gone.
“Have you ever done it?”
When I answered her, my voice was quiet. “I’ve had to kill people.”
She hugged herself close against my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to bring up painful memories. We don’t have to talk about it.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her up slightly so I could kiss her neck. “Have I told you how amazing you are?”
A laugh bubbled in her throat. “You always say that. I’m not so amazing.”
Rolling us so she was on her back, I looked down into her beautiful face. “You’re smart and beautiful. You’re incredibly busy, but you make time to show up here—”
“When I know you need me.” Leaning down, I kissed her jaw as she continued. “You’d do the same for me. Besides, I can work from anywhere.”
“Then work from here.”
“You can work anywhere, too.”
Our old argument. Neither of us chased it any further—not on our last morning together. We were counting down the hours before we’d be apart again, and instead, I focused on trailing my lips down to her collarbone, past the floating heart, lower to her breasts until we were lost in our special place once more.
Now, sitting at my desk remembering, the only thing strong enough to spoil the afterglow of our weekend is this new case… and her old scar. That damn silver line, a constant reminder of what that fucker did to her. Even worse, it reminds me he’s still out there walking around free.
In my line of work, I know how those assholes are. They all have some fucked up notion their victims belong to them—only them. My fist is clenched on the desktop, and I focus on relaxing it.
Sloan will pay for what he did to Mel. I intend to make sure of it, but she’s right. Letting him spoil our present gives him too much power. I’d rather put that aside, in my “To Do” file, and focus on my weekend with my little family—sheer red lingerie, loads of sex, and nonstop affection—hell, I should have a shitty week more often.
Shitty week…
I turn to my computer and stare at the report on the screen. As much as Mel wants to know, I can’t bring myself to tell her what I’m investigating. It’s not that I want to hide my work from her. She could probably help solve half the cases on my desk. I don’t want her to be afraid, and I don’t have a reason to make her worry yet.
Patrick’s in Wilmington watching over her for me, being the guard he is when I’m not there, and I’ve got tabs on Sloan. We’ll know if he leaves the city or makes any threatening moves. Privately, I wish he would. Nothing would make me happier than taking him out in an act of self-defense. With his record, not a jury in the world would convict.
Nikki snaps me out of my reflections. “I’m headed to the coffee shop. Can I get you anything?” She’s standing at the door in one of her usual, too-tight wrap-dresses.
It takes me back to her first day here, assigned by my aunt Sue’s temp agency. I was still grieving Allison. Three years had passed since my first wife died, but time didn’t matter. I didn’t want a replacement wife or a girlfriend or an outlet or anything, and the idea that my aunt might’ve selected this woman for any of those reasons got under my skin like nothing else. I didn’t need help getting over my wife. I had no intention of getting over her ever, and Nikki’s appearance pissed me off.
The reality is, despite her former, inappropriate assertions that I needed to “get laid,” she never once made a pass at me. She’d actually seemed more interested in Stuart, my first partner and Patrick’s older brother.
I suppose after all this time I should put the past behind us. It doesn’t make sense anymore now that I have Melissa. Everything has changed.
She’s waiting, and I exhale. “No. Thank you.” The departure from my usual, impatient tone makes her pause, and I continue. “You’re always thoughtful, Nikki. I appreciate it.”
Her mouth drops open and then quickly closes. “I’m… um… well.” She stops stammering, pokes her lips out duck-face style, then nods. “Okay, then. You’re welcome.”
Turning on a stiletto heel, she heads out of the office, and I grin. That may be the first time I’ve had Nikki at a loss for words.
Back to my computer, I pull up the file I’ve been studying for ten days—the one that’s had me so distracted. I keep telling Patrick we don’t do domestic work, yet I always end up being the one old friends or acquaintances call when they need help.
That’s how it started—a runaway case for a friend of a friend.
I was culling through mug shots of beat-up teens and file photos of dead girls. Patrick would say this is the worst part of our job, but truthfully, I don’t mind it. I can see past the tragedy to my role here, giving people closure. I know what it’s like to need it, and I don’t mind helping people get it.
Then I saw Jessica Black. Dead.
The name was so familiar, but I couldn’t place her at first. Staring at the photo, trying to think, I’d been struck by her appearance—fair complexion, petite frame, and long brunette waves. She looked a lot like Melissa—minus my fiancée’s bright blue eyes.
I’d clicked on the thumbnail to read the report. Runaway. Missing five years. Arrested for prostitution several times. Found beaten once. Badly. Now deceased under mysterious circumstances.
Minutes passed as I stared at her photo. Why was she so familiar? She wasn’t from Princeton. Her hometown was listed as Raleigh. Shaking my head and chalking it up to overprotectiveness spurred by her similarity to Mel, I closed the document and went back to searching for the runaway.
Nikki had interrupted me that day as well, stopping in with a BLT from the cafeteria.
“I know it’s your favorite.” She placed the thick sandwich in front of me with a smile. “You need to eat.”
I only nodded. “Thanks.”
She didn’t leave. “Remember the last time I brought you lunch? It was the day Melissa showed up here so angry and unexpected. I was sure I’d never like her, but now she’s the sweetest…”
Nikki continued talking, but I wasn’t listening. Cold realization flashed in my brain like lightening striking a tree.
Jessica Black. It was the name on the email Melissa had put in front of me that day she visited our offices. The day she dropped a nuke on all my dreams of a life with her, when she revealed my former “mentor,” her ex-husband Sloan Reynolds’s secret double-life. He had high-end escorts all over the country, and Jessica Black was his first careless slip. Melissa had found it.
Nikki was still reminiscing as I spun around in my chair, shaking my computer awake. Fingers flying over the keys, I pulled up all the information I could find on the dead girl.
She’d been living in Baltimore for a year. I wondered if she followed him from wherever they’d hooked up the first time. Why would she do that? Was it possible she was in love with him? Was it for the money? Had he promised her anything?
It didn’t matter. She’d disappeared off the police blotter from the time she arrived there until now, when she’d turned up dead.
Reasons scrolled across my brain of all the possible causes of death, but looking at her beaten face, all I could see was the photo Melissa had put in front of me all those months ago.
My instincts were on high alert. Sloan was getting antsy, and I knew what he wanted. Jessica Black might look like the real thing, but she wasn’t it.
Substitutes would never fill the possession he felt. I’d followed enough of these twisted fucks to know. He was coming for Melissa, and it was just a matter of when.
All last week, I’d tracked down every misstep I could find on him, looking for anything that would stick, that would get him off the streets or at least keep him in Baltimore. I hoped to find a recent paper trail linking him to Jessica, but every lead came up cold. He was either too slick, or his people buried everything.
Even the guy I had watching Sloan in Baltimore had nothing. Jessica disappeared a week before I’d hired him, a month after Sloan had broken into Mel’s beach cottage and then gotten off with a slap on the wrist. Apparently I’d moved too quickly when he waltzed into her home threatening to rape her. We had to wait until he actually committed the crime for his money and position not to matter.
The thought clenched my jaw. It was the one thing above all that caused the “stress” Nikki kept texting Melissa about. Only “stress” wasn’t what I felt. What I felt was flat-out fucking rage.
The best part was when he threatened me in court with police brutality charges. I’d nearly brutalized him on the spot, but Melissa held me back. I’ll never forget her face. She went still as a stone, as if it was the ending she always expected. It was like a heel-kick straight to my gut. I couldn’t let her down that way.
Now all she’ll say is she wants those memories left in the past. Just let it go, she tells me.
Fuck that. That asshole is a threat to my family, and it’s clear he’s dangerous. Priority 1 is devising a plan to bring him in, and it has to be something that won’t ooze off his slimy back.
Snatching my phone off its base, I hit the speed-dial button.
Patrick answers, cocky as always. “Don’t tell me. You’ve come to your senses and realized life at the beach is the only way to live.”
“I need you to up the watch on Melissa.”
I appreciate how his tone becomes immediately serious. “What’s going on?”
“I have to finish a few details for our new Houston client, and then I’m headed your way, possibly for a while.”
“This can only mean one thing. Or one asshole.”
“I’m emailing a report and mug shots to you now. The name’s Jessica Black.” Fingers clicking on the keys, I shoot everything I’ve found to him. “I’ve exhausted all my sources here. See if you can do anything from there with it.”
“Sure.” He’s silent for a moment, reading. “Jessica Black… Raleigh? That’s just down the road. I’ll rattle a few cages.”
“If you do find anything, I need to know why she moved to Baltimore. What she was doing there. If she was seeing anybody and who.”
“Did you tell Melissa about this?”
Pressing my lips together, I rock back in my chair. “No.”
“Think that’s a good idea?”
“Not really, but I’ll tell her when the time is right. I don’t want her to be afraid.”
Sitting forward again, I pull up the report for our Houston client and read over what’s still outstanding. A full system analysis is due Friday. I lost a significant portion of last week searching all the police databases for information on Miss Black.
“If I pull some extra hours, I can have Houston wrapped up and out of here by Wednesday.” I start a log on my desktop of what’s still outstanding, what jobs are lined up next, and what I can handle from Wilmington in case I can’t get back right away.
Nikki’s thank you gift can be a week off with pay, maybe a Spa Finder mini-holiday. In the middle of planning my getaway, I realize Patrick is still on the line.
“Sorry to keep you in a holding pattern.”
“No worries. I can tell this is serious. Somehow. Even though you haven’t told me any details.”
Patrick can turn any situation into a joke, and I alternate between being pissed and being glad about it. At the moment, I’m too focused on closing the office and getting to Wilmington to lose time on it.
“I’ll tell you everything when I get there. Just keep your eyes on Mel.”
“She’ll be as protected as the crown jewels.”
It doesn’t satisfy the tightness in my chest. “Maybe Elaine could invite her to stay in your guest room til Thursday.”
“You’re joking, right? You know Mel won’t leave that cottage without a mandatory evacuation order.”
Studying my notes, I wonder how many boxes I’d have to pack if I left for Wilmington today. No, I have to wrap up this damn Houston case here, where I can focus.
Frustrated, I push the laptop back on my desk. “We’re professionals, dammit. Get creative.”
He laughs. “What would work if you were Melissa? I’d say we invite her over for dinner and mix her drinks too strong, but she’s pregnant. And even if she were still drinking, we couldn’t keep the party going for three nights. Just tell her what’s up.”
“If I can be there on Wednesday, I will.”
“Fine, but will you at least tell me what’s going on? Who is Jessica Black? Or who was, I guess…”
“Jessica Black was a high-end hooker, an escort. She was also one of Sloan’s regulars. A few years ago, she was beaten pretty badly, but she wouldn’t report the guy. Then she moved to Baltimore. I don’t have anything concrete, but my gut says she fell in love with him. How, I can’t imagine. Now she’s dead.”
Silence meets my ear for several moments. When Patrick speaks again, his voice is sober, all joking gone. “And she looks a helluva lot like Melissa.”
“Right.”
“I know what to do.”
In that one sentence I hear my partner lock into closer mode, and it’s right where I want him. Patrick can be a royal fuck up when it comes to women, but he’s damn good at his job. And to her credit, Elaine seems to have put an end to his screwing around.
“I’ve got an idea,” he continues. “It’s something I floated past you a while back, but now with this… Raleigh… I might have a connection to what you need.”
“I didn’t expect anything less. See you in a few days, and Patrick? Thanks. I owe you one.”
“It’s nothing more than you’d do for me.”
“You know it.”