by Karen Kirst
“I did warn you about that.” If he couldn’t be with her, he needed to know she was okay.
“Well? Do you?”
“I do not own a tuxedo. In fact, I don’t know anyone who has one in their closet.”
“Can you rent one on short notice?”
“For?”
“The gala is this Sunday night. I can’t miss it.”
“I’ll locate one.”
She worried her lower lip. “You’re sure you don’t mind? The place is going to be crawling with security. This guy would have to be insane to attempt anything.”
“We haven’t ruled that out.” He caught a whiff of herbs and garlic, and his stomach growled. “Did you cook?”
A self-conscious expression played over her face. “I left a few pots and pans unpacked.” He followed her to the kitchen. “I defrosted a package of chicken and sautéed it with vegetables. Nothing fancy.”
“Fancy? I grew up on bologna and cheese sandwiches. I don’t know the meaning of the word.” He snagged a small cube of chicken and popped it into his mouth. He made an appreciative sound. “Is it ready now?”
She smiled, and her eyes glowed with pleasure. “It’s nice to cook for someone again. Cooking for one person isn’t fun.”
“You can cook for me anytime,” he said, his voice husky.
Neither one moved. Brady’s gaze roamed her face, snagging on her coral-tinted lips. What would she do if he lowered his head and kissed her?
He blinked and forced his focus elsewhere. This was wrong. They were standing in the home she’d shared with Derek. He felt like a traitor.
“I’ll, uh, get the plates and forks.”
There was a telltale blush on her cheeks. He told himself he was imagining things. She couldn’t be attracted to him. Shouldn’t be interested in anything more than friendship. Because he was damaged, and even worse, he was keeping a major secret from her.
When they were seated and she’d prayed over the meal, Brady steered the conversation to innocent topics. He peppered her about her childhood in the western part of the state. After answering a dozen questions, she blushed and apologized for monopolizing the conversation.
“Nothing about you bores me,” he reassured her.
She met his gaze head-on, and the push-pull of need and want was there again. Her hand was right there, inches from his own. Her nails were coated with a sheer gloss. A thin bracelet encircled her wrist. His fingers itched to trace the gold, to explore the contours of her delicate bone structure. He removed his hands from the table and settled them on his lap, away from temptation.
He’d been alone for too long. Sure, he went out on dates occasionally. His hang-ups prevented any serious connections from forming, however.
The doorbell trilled, and Olivia went to answer the summons. He was a couple of steps behind. The MP on duty informed her that Detective Shaw wanted to see her. When she approved the visit, Shaw left his personal vehicle, traversed the sidewalk and entered the house.
“They’re being thorough,” he said. “I approve.”
Brady was apprehensive about her upcoming change of address. “We have to identify this guy, Shaw. After next weekend, she’ll be in a civilian setting without the benefit of armed marines. Do you have any leads?”
He waved a folder. “I do, in fact.”
Shaw perched on the recliner’s edge, and she and Brady sat side by side on the couch.
“We did some digging into the aquarium vet, Dr. Zach Ledford, and we learned that he did a stint in the army. Get this—he was a sniper.”
Olivia sucked in an audible breath. “He paid me a visit today.”
“What?” Brady angled toward her. “You didn’t mention that in your texts.”
“He was upset about being a suspect. He said he denied the police access to his home.”
Shaw nodded. “We’re waiting on a warrant. In the meantime, he has the opportunity to hide or destroy evidence.”
“As an aquarium employee,” Olivia said, “he has complete access and knowledge of the layout. But does he have a way onto the base?”
“Because he’s not retired—medically or otherwise—he doesn’t have a military ID. That means no access to the base.”
“Unless he falsified one,” Brady muttered, thinking of Derek. All one had to have these days is the right criminal connections.
Shaw’s gray brows lifted. “True. Or he could’ve befriended a military member in order to gain a visitor pass. We’re working with PMO on that front. They’re supposed to review the pass records for the days leading up to the shooting. Another strike against him? He doesn’t have a confirmable alibi. He says he left the aquarium at three o’clock and went straight home, where he remained alone all night.”
“He doesn’t work regular hours at the aquarium,” Olivia said. “He comes in at odd times.”
Brady touched Olivia’s cast. “It’s not safe for you to work around him.”
Her chin assumed a stubborn tilt. “I’ve already had this conversation with the director. I’m not quitting.”
“You don’t have to quit. Take a leave of absence.”
“We don’t know for certain that Zach is the culprit,” she argued. “I know the evidence points to him, but I have serious doubts.”
“Because he looks like a regular guy? Because he’s a respected veterinarian?”
“Because I trust my instincts.”
Shaw cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “Anyway, going into hiding may make it more difficult to snag him.”
Brady’s temper flared. “Are you suggesting using Olivia as bait?”
“If she continues her duties as usual, with safeguards in place, he won’t have cause to panic and bolt. He’ll assume he’s in the clear. All the while, we’ll be building our case.”
“And when he attempts to kill her again?”
Her cool fingers rested on his arm. “Whoever is behind the attacks won’t get the chance. I’ll have at least one other staff member with me at all times.”
Brady covered her hand and held fast. “I don’t like this.”
“Brady, I’m not going to take any undue risks. I promise.”
Snared in her molten gaze, Brady tried to pinpoint the exact moment Olivia had gotten to him. Somehow, she’d become more than a perceived duty. Her happiness and safety were linked to his peace of mind. The knowledge frightened him. He’d rather be piloting a helo with scant fuel and no place to land than to risk pain like his parents had inflicted. In his world, trust was foolish and love the ultimate sin.
Loneliness had made his heart reckless. If he wasn’t careful, he’d wind up confused and alone like the pitiful little boy he’d once been, glued to the windows day after day. Waiting, hoping, praying the beat-up gold station wagon would turn into the gravel drive.
He speared Shaw with a glance. “Work quickly, Detective.”
* * *
“I despise functions like this,” Roman muttered, snapping the brushed silver tablecloth in midair and watching it float into place on the round table. “Why can’t we just do our jobs instead of wasting time schmoozing with industry professionals?”
Olivia hid a smile as she smoothed the air bubbles beneath the textured cloth. Her gruff, burly assistant looked out of place amid the posh scene being staged for the gala. The meeting space was large enough to accommodate approximately two hundred people. Floor-to-ceiling windows along two walls provided stunning views of the river, the bridge spanning it and the businesses hugging the opposite side. An aquarium exhibit was housed on the third side of the room, and a raised platform along the interior would host the band and speakers. A circular space in the middle of the tables would be reserved for dancing. Right now the large room was a hive of activity, as aquarium staff arranged tables and chairs and set up the buffet equipment. In two days�
�� time, it would be transformed into an elegant oasis alive with music and conversation.
Surely her enemy wouldn’t try to strike then.
She hefted an oversize glass vase onto the table. “These events can actually be a lot of fun.” When he rolled his eyes, she said, “You enjoy good food, don’t you?”
“In my experience, meals prepared in mass quantities are substandard at best.” He nudged his glasses farther up his nose. “I’m going to stay long enough to hear your presentation, then I’m gone.”
“You should be on the stage with me,” she said. “I know you’re not a fan of public speaking, but your project input could at least be acknowledged. I can introduce you and let the people applaud your accomplishments. You wouldn’t have to say anything.”
He scrubbed one hand over his beard. “Not happening.”
“Why not?”
“Third grade.”
“What happened in third grade?”
“I was cast as Charlie Brown in a Peanuts play. I forgot my lines. The other kids laughed. Mortified, I froze. Then I fled.”
Olivia winced. “Harsh.”
“I’ve avoided the spotlight ever since.” He gestured over his shoulder. “I’ll get more chairs.”
She would’ve moved on to the next table, but the box containing the tablecloths was empty. The person in charge of the setup, events coordinator Wanda McLemore, told Olivia where to find more.
“Is there someone who can go and get them?”
The aquarium was closed, and Olivia preferred to remain within the hub of activity. Recalling Brady’s intensity last night, the turbulence in his blue-gray eyes, she had no desire to venture off alone. In fact, she’d promised him she wouldn’t.
The flustered coordinator had no patience for her request. “Why can’t you do it? As you can see, everyone is busy pitching in.” Her tone accused Olivia of being lazy.
“I’ll go with you.”
Olivia turned around, not surprised at Maya’s offer. It would get her out of her current task—tying silver ribbons to the chairs.
“Hurry up.” Wanda slipped a shallow pan into the serving slot and wiped her damp forehead with her sleeve. “We have loads to do between now and Sunday.”
They left the hustle and bustle behind. The deserted, darkened hallways put Olivia on instant alert. Maya had already whipped out her phone and was texting someone.
“Do you have a dress for Sunday?” Olivia ventured, missing their former camaraderie.
“I’m not going.”
They were passing through the turtle exhibit, lit by the tanks’ soft glow. “Why not?”
“Bruno doesn’t want me to. He’s not happy that I got reprimanded for having visitors.”
Olivia didn’t bother pointing out Maya had violated the rules by letting her friends in for free. “Do you want to attend?”
She tucked her phone into her back pocket and ran her fingers along the tank glass. “I don’t care.”
Seemed Maya didn’t care about much anymore besides pleasing her boyfriend. Inside the industrial-size kitchen, she flipped on the overhead lights. “You used to love your work.”
“Yeah, I did.” Bristling, she glared at Olivia. “That was before I figured out I couldn’t trust my coworkers.”
She paused beside the stoves. “What are you implying?”
Leaning close, she poked Olivia’s shoulder. “You told Ruth about the prescription pills, didn’t you? I saw you chatting her up while I was outside with my friends.”
Their isolation wasn’t lost on Olivia. Apprehension rushed to the surface before she dismissed it. This was Maya. Her surly attitude didn’t mean she was capable of murder.
“I didn’t speak to Ruth about you. It must’ve been someone else.”
“You’re lying.”
“Believe what you want.”
“She threatened to fire me, you know. Not because of Bruno and his friends, but because someone claimed I’m using. I explained it was a misunderstanding.”
“Was it, though? I saw the label. Those weren’t allergy pills. Did Bruno give them to you?”
Maya sneered. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re clearly in over your head with these guys. I’d like to help you, if I can.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Maya’s phone jangled. She edged to the far side of the room and started a hushed conversation. With a sigh, Olivia rounded the fridge and entered the area housing decorating supplies. There was no door, to her relief. Memories of being locked in the basement storage were too fresh.
While she searched for the right color tablecloths, she prayed for her young coworker. Nothing good would come from her association with a gang.
It took several minutes of searching to locate the silver ones. She lugged three boxes, one by one, into the kitchen and placed them on the prep table. “Maya, will you carry one of the boxes?”
The sudden silence held sinister expectation.
Hard knots formed in her midsection. “Maya? You still in here?”
Trying to remain calm, she rushed to the door through which they’d entered and peered into the hallway. She couldn’t hear or see the other woman. Frustration warred with fear.
Maya knew Olivia wasn’t supposed to be alone, but she’d been angry. Had she left out of spite? Been called away to an emergency? Or had the man after Olivia wanted Maya out of the way?
The lights flickered out, submerging the space in inky black shadows.
Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Fumbling for her phone, she used the flashlight feature as a guide.
People. She needed the safety of people.
She had to reach the others, before—
No. Don’t think like that.
This was a temporary power outage. The generators would kick in any second.
As she retraced her steps, Olivia imagined hot breath on her neck again. Or was it real? The hair on her nape stood to attention, and a prickly sensation stole over her scalp.
Breaking into a run, she’d reached the exhibits when her foot connected with something solid. She threw her hands up to brace her fall and collided with a water fountain mounted to the wall. Her phone was jarred from her fingers and landed on the carpet facedown, obliterating the light.
Olivia pushed upright and squinted at the space around her feet.
The blow came out of nowhere. Her head whipped to the right.
Pain radiated through her cheek and eye socket and snaked down her neck.
Knocked off balance, she fell onto her knees. A hand bunched in her hair and jerked her backward before she could crawl out of reach. She filled her lungs with air and screamed with all her might.
Her attacker released his hold on her hair and, looming over her, wrapped his gloved fingers around her throat and squeezed. She kicked out and landed a solid hit to his inner thigh. He grunted and increased the pressure. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
Need air now.
She used both hands to try to peel his fingers away.
He was too strong. Relentless. In the dark, she could make out the whites of his eyes through the mask holes.
This can’t be the end, Lord.
But she couldn’t draw breath. Her lungs were going to explode.
Dots danced on the back of her eyelids.
The strength slowly leached from her body, until she couldn’t fight anymore.
TWELVE
She was being dragged through the aquarium by her feet. Struggling to shake off the confusing haze, Olivia attempted to get her bearings and saw the restrooms from an unexpected angle. Carpet chafed her skin. Pain was not her friend. Or maybe that’s what had jarred her from unconsciousness.
The exit sign up ahead kicked her brain into high gear. That doo
r led to the parking lot and an unknown end.
The generators had come on, but their limited power was meant for animal support, not unnecessary output like overhead lighting. She couldn’t make out any defining details about the man with the iron grip on her ankles.
Help me, Lord, please. I can’t escape on my own. I need You.
Olivia concentrated on keeping her limbs loose and fluid. Sudden tension would alert him to the fact she was capable of fighting back. Carefully scanning the passing surroundings, her gaze lit on a fire extinguisher. The makeshift weapon was housed in a glass-fronted box. She’d have to break it.
Mustering her courage, she twisted her entire body and managed to kick free. His grunt of surprise morphed into an enraged growl. She clambered onto her knees and found her footing. Lunging for the fire extinguisher, she brought her cast down hard, shattering the glass. Before she could grasp the extinguisher, his arms wrapped around her middle like heavy chains. He jerked hard, digging into her diaphragm and wrenching her around.
Her back to him, she elbowed him in the gut. Ground her heel into his toes. Used her cast to hammer at his relentless grip. Desperation lent her an edge. She couldn’t let him get the upper hand. Couldn’t lose consciousness again.
Olivia continued the onslaught until his hold faltered. Breaking free, she ripped the extinguisher from its box and whirled around, hitting him as hard as she could. It hit him in the soft flesh of his neck and was enough to momentarily stun him.
She had no time to plan her escape, to examine which route was best.
She sprinted past the restrooms. She had to reach the others. If she could get close enough for them to hear her cries for help—
His fingers clawed down her back, grasping at the fabric of her shirt. She screamed. Pumped her legs harder. Faster.
The hallway split, and she took a sharp right. A cleaning cart was parked against the wall. Olivia shoved it behind her and tipped it over, spilling the contents and buying herself precious seconds. The shadows worked in her favor. She heard him tumble into the wall.
But her momentary victory didn’t last. She didn’t see the bucket until it was too late. Her sprained ankle landed inside the shallow pail at an awkward angle, and she sprawled onto the carpet facedown. His footsteps spelled her doom. If he caught her again, he’d make sure she didn’t wake up.
