Lieutenant Commander Greg Lapierre knocked on his girlfriend’s front door. Diana opened it and smiled warmly. “You’re home,” she said.
“Couldn’t wait to see you.”
Happy to be home from deployment, he wanted her to run into his arms, except she didn’t. She stepped aside to let him in. He leaned in to kiss her, but she barely kissed him back. Acclimatizing back to civilian life after being away for seven months reinforced the thought that this deployment with JTF2 should be his last.
“Come in.” Diana closed the door and wandered down the hall. Sitting on the couch, she curled her legs beneath her.
Normally, she had dinner waiting for him on his first night back. Other times, he’d shown up and she’d been waiting in nothing at all, which brought a man back to civie life quicker than anything else. They didn’t live together, but whether it was her bed or his, their sex life filled in the cracks where conversation didn’t. He knew it wasn’t easy for her. Nothing had been easy for her. Not his career or coming to terms with his past. He’d been honest about his feelings with Diana, and she’d accepted him even though he needed time before committing to anything permanent. They had a comfortable relationship.
“I missed you.” When he ran his hand across her shoulder, her eyes didn’t smolder.
“Greg.” She sighed and drew his hand between hers. “I missed you too. I always miss you when you’re gone, and for three years I kept hoping you’d see how much.”
“I do,” he said, wanting to kiss her and dissolve her fears.
Diana stood up and clutched her hands together. “Greg, our relationship isn’t going anywhere. I’ve tried, but as much as I love you, I can’t watch you walk away anymore.”
Alarm bells went straight to high-pitched clanging. “You don’t have to,” he said, looking up at her. “I’m leaving the Forces. I won’t be going away again.”
“It’s not that.” Tears glazed her eyes. “I’m not talking about deployments. I’m talking about your heart. Sometimes, I think you can put me first, but then you become distant. Cold. And I think you’re still in love with someone else.”
He exhaled and shut his eyes momentarily. “I’m not in love with Kayla. I’ve explained it to you many times.”
Diana stared at him. “She’s far away and married to Admiral Austen. No matter what you say, I don’t want to be second best. There’s been times when you’ve fucked me, and I know you’re seeing her.”
Greg pushed to his feet. “That’s not true. I do love her, but not the way you’re suggesting.”
“You can lie to yourself all you want.” She shook her head and sat on the other couch, drawing a pillow to her chest. “I couldn’t wait, Greg. I’ve been seeing someone else. He loves me. He can say it. You can’t.”
Jealousy hit him square in the guts. “Maybe I didn’t, but…”
A wan smile of relief crossed her mouth. “He wants a future. He wants a family.” She hesitated then said, “He wants me.”
This conversation was happening at the wrong time. With warfare still churning in his blood, he should get up and leave. “What the hell do you want from me? We’re comfortable, aren’t we?”
“I don’t want comfortable,” she yelled, staring up at him, her expression torn between anger and hurt. “You can’t give your love to any woman because there’s already someone who owns you.”
“No one owns me,” he snapped.
Diana snapped back at him. “She moved on with her life. You haven’t. You led me down the path for almost three years. In all that time, I thought you might see me, but you never did. I was convenient. Passable. Stop lying to both of us.”
Drums began to pound in his brain. He’d heard them all his life, starting when he was a young boy and watched his father, drunk past reason, hurt his mother. The drums got stronger when his brother married the woman he should have married, and they became a deafening roar when his brother almost killed her. Yet every time they began, he clamped down on the violence that stirred like a dark being coming to life inside him. The only time he released it was during warfare.
“You couldn’t wait until I got home before cheating on me?”
Diana’s brow pinched together. “I’ve done nothing but wait, Greg. Even when you were home. I was good enough for your bed, but never good enough for anything else. No one can replace her in your eyes. You’re the one who deceives any woman who trusts you.”
Over Diana’s shoulder, he stared at himself in the mirror on the wall. His dark features and jet black hair could draw a woman into his bed, but he never kept them. Nor did he really want to. In the back of his mind, he knew Diana was right. He needed to let her go. She should run from him. Run fast.
* * * *
It had been a long week of pestering the coroner, Gary Phillips, for details he finally released about the latest victim once the autopsy and tox reports were completed. Kelly Yonders owned a successful lingerie shop just off Government Street. She lived with a girlfriend and was titled with Victim Number Six of the Victoria Ripper. She’d been missing for four days before being found in the corn maze. No bad habits. No drugs. A local girl with friends and a boyfriend, who’d been brought in for questioning, but released soon after. When Kelly disappeared, he’d been at poker night with his buddies.
Mattie gazed at the latest article she’d published online. If she were a normal person, she’d be home on the couch watching some sappy romance movie on Netflix. When her cell phone rang, she absently answered. Inundated with people claiming they knew who the Ripper was, when queried further, it was usually a case of letting the family dog poop in someone’s garden bed.
“You’re at work, aren’t you?” Stuart asked.
“Hey, what’s up, Constable?”
“Loaded question,” he teased in his very pulse pounding one-nine-hundred voice.
She laughed and picked up her coffee cup, taking a sip. “How did you get my number? Thought you were supposed to use your powers for good, not for evil.”
“Little white lie and a badge goes a long way.” He laughed. “You gave it to me, Mattie, remember?”
“Oh yeah, right. Guess I did. Not often the police call me, unless it’s my brothers. Being a journalist, it’s all about a one-way love affair. By the way, it’s Saturday night. Things should be jumping at the local S&M club, shouldn’t they? All those whips and shackles getting slippery with sweaty lust.”
He chuckled. “I suppose. Care to join me?”
With the cell phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear, she rubbed the chill from her arm. “Pass.”
“It’s only eight o’clock, the night’s still young and we’re both off. Thought you might be all hunkered down in your spinsterly abode and willing to consider a two-way love affair.”
His laughter tickled her nerve endings with adolescent giddiness. Reminding herself she was past being a silly lovesick girl, she said, “I don’t think spinsterly is an adjective.”
“Meet me, Mattie. Drinks. Nothing serious or scary.”
“Handcuffs involved?”
“No.”
“Can we talk about the case?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on.” She ran her hand through her hair and fluffed it.
“Don’t have to talk where I plan on taking you. The music is loud, and I get to look into your eyes while we’re dancing together or playing a game of pool.”
“Now, you see that’s why I would never make a good cop. I’d never take you for Patrick Swayze and I am definitely not Jennifer Grey.”
“Okay, then how about drinks at the Canoe Club. I just got off shift, and I’m hungry.”
She hadn’t eaten yet, but that was the norm for her. Shoving a Powerbar down her throat on the fly was more her style. “Real food, huh? Don’t think I’ve eaten anything that didn’t come out of a plastic wrap or the microwave for a week.”
“Thirty minutes. I’m going to grab a shower here at the station. I’ll see you there.”
She hadn’t said ‘yes’ before he hung up. She nibbled on her lip and logged off the computer. What if she really liked being with Stuart and one thing led to the next? She didn’t have a submissive bone in her body. Mattie grinned to herself. Maybe he’d consider letting her tie him up. That would be worth a thousand good stories. All those ripped muscles stretched out with a blindfold over his eyes, his hands tied and…your imagination is going out of bounds, Mattie.
Why Stuart, who carried himself with a take no prisoners kind of sex appeal, wanted a drink with her, made her pause. She wasn’t one of the pretty girls with pouty lips and perfect hair. More the studious type, she slid her black-rimmed glasses up her nose. Her brain tired, she’d exhausted all the angles, which amounted to nil, as to why the Ripper had ventured from his killing ground of historical sites and why he was back. If Stuart was in an amiable mood, he’d let her pick his brain. She’d think of it as an after-hours business meeting.
* * * *
Mattie parked her car in an open lot on Store Street. Slipping a few loonies into the ticket dispenser, she hoofed it back to her car and slid the receipt onto her dash. It was a short walk down Swift Street to the waterfront pub and brewery. A couple strolled up the hill toward her, their arms around each other’s waists reminded her that being a couple had its advantages.
Desolate of other people, with only one dim street light and shadowy alcoves, didn’t bother her, but knowing a twisted killer ran free gave her the willies. A black Dodge Charger drove slowly down the hill toward the club. It reminded her of the guy at the maze a week ago and again her skin crawled.
Rounding the historic building which housed the brewpub, the red floodlights bled down the rough-hewn brick façade reminding her too much of the Ripper’s wave of terror. No one sat outside at the tables overlooking the waterway with the temperature only a few degrees above zero on the cloudless night. She watched the Dodge circle the tiny parking lot, and then drive out again. The rush of warm air as she pushed the door open to the brewery made her shivers subside. The hum of patrons’ conversations filled the large barn-like interior. She took the four steps to the upper level, looking for a handsome cop waiting for her. What a joke!
“Mattie!”
Stuart had sequestered a table in the corner. Plopping her purse down in an empty chair then pulling the jacket off her shoulders, she joined him. “Hi.” His smile was infectious and she mirrored it. “What are you drinking?”
“Dark ale. One they make here at the brewery.” He offered it to her. “Try it.”
She had a small sip. “Not bad.”
“I ordered some appetizers. Hope you’re hungry.”
“Sounds good,” she said. The server rushed up to their table. A pretty girl with ample breasts and a tiny waist contoured by a black knit dress, but Stuart didn’t ogle her which Mattie expected he’d do. “I’ll have an iced tea.”
“Guess I’m not going to get you drunk and have an excuse to drive you home.”
She broke into a chuckle. “Nope. These days I’m never off duty. At least until the Ripper is caught. I want to be able to drive if I hear a call come in.” She plopped the police scanner on the table.
He let out a sigh and sat back, shaking his head. “Mattie, he isn’t going to kill again tonight.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, leaning forward, resting her arms on the table. “Just because he’s got a pattern of leaving bodies on the first and sixteenth of every month, doesn’t mean he can’t break stride.”
“Because we’re on a date.”
“That sounds suspiciously like an admission and date is a pretty serious word, Stuart.”
“Yeah, what would you call it?”
“I’ve been trying to come up with a word since I have no idea why you’d want to see me instead of…” She turned to look around the room at the lovely women sitting at each table. “Any of them. So, I thought maybe you’re on a little mission for the Victoria PD to make sure I don’t go astray and have plans to start picking on the PD for not catching this guy.”
Stuart’s gaze flashed to the wall and then back at her.
Her stomach pitched, ending with a sickening plop. She bowed her head for a minute to put her game face on. She hated when she fired a stray shot and hit the target. Her dad told her many times she had uncanny instincts. When she raised her head, Stuart looked guilty as hell. She shrugged.
“That’s not exactly true.” He pushed his glass toward her. “Have mine. I’ll order another.”
“Don’t worry about it.” A sour twist in her chest told her she needed to get out of there. “You can tell them…” Come on, Mattie, you’re stronger than that, she thought to herself when a bad case of girly-girl rushed into her heart. If she hadn’t been in a public place, she would have slapped her own head. “Tell them, since they probably don’t know, my dad was RCMP until he retired. Law enforcement makes the difference between being civilized and a community running amuck. I’d never shine a poor light on the Victoria PD.” She plucked her bag from the chair.
“Mattie, don’t leave.” He reached across the table and covered her hand. “It’s not the reason I volunteered to do this.”
Volunteered! “Did you all draw straws or something?”
“Come on. That’s not what happened.”
Her brow creased tight. “Yes, it is. I have to go.”
Stuart palmed his forehead and grilled her with his gorgeous blue eyes.
“I’m not mad. You didn’t screw anything up. I’m a professional journalist. I won’t take my date, which was never intended as a date, out on the rest of your kind.”
“No, it’s worse. You’re hurt.” His jaw tightened. “And it’s not what you’re suggesting.”
The server settled three plates of delicious looking appetizers on their table. Better her mouth watered than her eyes. “No, I don’t like being lied to. That’s what hurts,” she said with a hushed voice.
She got up, and with her head held high, although she felt like a total idiot and her heart hurt, she took a sharp left when she opened the front door. Glancing around the small parking lot, she quickly detailed what should and shouldn’t be there, like her father had taught her to do. On the other side of the garden with a big old tree growing in the center, sat the black Dodge.
“Mattie, wait!” Stuart caught up to her. “What’s wrong? What are you looking at?”
The Dodge’s engine rumbled to life and pulled onto the road, then took off up the hill. “That car. It was at the field last week and it followed me in here. Thought he left, but…”
Stuart’s brows quirked together as the tail lights disappeared. “Chargers are popular cars. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“I saw the guy driving it into the corn maze. He was coming in when I was leaving. He gave me the creeps. Dark hair, shades. My scare-dar went off.”
“Scare-dar?”
“My sixth sense. Something’s not right, intuition.”
Stuart let out a breath and darted a look over her head. He gripped her upper arms and lowered his chin. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’ll be fine. I just have to walk up the road to the lot across Store Street.”
He pulled her a little closer, and then a little more, until his rock hard pecs pressed against her chest. “Mattie, it’s more than that. A lot more, and I want you to come back inside with me.” He shot another quick gaze over her head.
“You’re acting strange and you’re freaking me out.”
He folded her into his arms and put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Please put your arms around me and trust me. I know you don’t, but just do it.”
Slowly, her fingers crawled up his hard physique. His body tensed until they were a coiled mass of two beings with his cheek resting against her forehead.
“That journalistic mind of yours is going off the rails. All of us involved in the case are affected.”
He lowered his head, his mouth so close to hers, and her man-lust growled to life. His voice soothed her hurt. “I guess I’m tired too, Stuart.”
“I just want a few seconds of peace.” His gaze heated as if he really desired her. “I want them with you.”
“You do?” He kissed her gently at first, then deeper until her toes sizzled.
He didn’t pull far away when he said, “I can only do so much to protect you.”
“What do you mean, protect me?” The brief reprieve from killers and slaughtered women snatched away.
His hand wrapped around her neck, keeping her close. “I can’t tell you anymore. At least not now.” He kissed her again, but this time his tongue ran across her bottom lip, and he nibbled the edge of her mouth. Her mind whirled. When he let her breathe again, he said, “I’ll walk you to your car. Don’t ask any questions and go straight home.” He rubbed her nose with his. “I do like you, Mattie, more than you know.” He kissed her one more time and then stepped away, taking her hand and guiding her up the road.
What the hell was that all about? She followed his lead as they climbed Swift Street toward her car. He spoke to her about mundane things, and she answered, but being a journalist, the questions piled up in her mind. He’d knocked her off her sensible thinking game with his kiss, but she needed answers.
When they stood next to her car, he pulled her close again and looked in her eyes. A look she couldn’t describe, except it held a tint of fear wrapped in longing. “From this point forward you can’t trust anyone, Mattie, not even me.” His arms squeezed her. Chest to chest, his heart thudded against hers.
Trust me. Don’t trust me. Caught in a mired mess of thoughts, she said, “Am I supposed to be scared?”
It wasn’t possible being in Stuart’s arms and more so, the arms of a police officer. She’d been programmed as a child. Raised as a “daddy’s girl” in the arms of her father. A veteran cop. They were the safest arms she knew.
Stuart’s full lips traced hers. “You’re smart, Mattie. To me, you’re beautiful and I want you to be safe. Go straight home.” He released her and quickly walked away.