by Morgan James
Chapter Twenty
Soft hair spilled over his chest and shoulder, tickling his skin, and Blake shifted the sleepy woman in his arms. Victoria let out a soft grumble and he smiled into her hair. The sheet had slipped down while they’d slept, and Blake trailed a finger over each of hers, across the back of her hand and up her arm to her shoulder. Victoria shivered at the contact as he brushed the tiny wisps of hair at the base of her neck and she turned her head, burying her nose against him. He pulled her more tightly to him, relishing the feel of her as she snuggled close.
She wiggled as she came awake, and he almost groaned as she brushed against his morning wood, straining and eager to sink inside her again. He blocked her knee as it came up, then adjusted himself. “Time to get up, sweetheart.”
“Mmm.” She sighed contentedly and snuggled closer, groping blindly for the sheet.
Blake chuckled and caught her hand in his. “C’mon, sleepyhead.”
Her face scrunched up in consternation as he pulled the sheet from her questing fingers, and her mouth turned down in a frown. “What time is it?”
He threw a glance over his shoulder at the clock on his nightstand. “Almost ten.”
Tearing herself from his arms, she bolted upright. “Ten in the morning?”
“That’s usually how it works,” he teased, reaching for her.
She evaded his hands and, realizing her nudity, grabbed up the sheets and pressed them to her chest. “I never sleep in this late.”
“You were exhausted, and it looked like you needed the rest.”
She’d fallen into a deep sleep as soon as she slipped into bed next to him, and he’d spent the last three hours next to her, alternately dozing and watching her until she woke up, not wanting to abandon her. He’d spent his wakefulness enjoying the feel of her next to him, and he’d had plenty of time to think—about the past, about the future, the things he wanted to do, the places he wanted to see... the things he couldn’t live without. Victoria was slowly making her way into that last category, and Blake wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
He’d only known her for a couple weeks, but there was something about her that called to him—more than protectiveness, more than just simple attraction. Some unnamable force had pushed Victoria into his path, and he’d be a fool to ignore the signs. The more he was around her, the more he liked her, the more he wanted her to become a permanent part of his life.
He wanted to know all about her, wanted to be the person she turned to, not just for help, but for everything—comfort, passion, reassurance, and everything in between. He wanted her in his arms every night, wanted to sit across the table from her each evening and talk about everything and nothing. Ever since that night in her office, he’d known there would be something between them.
Playful and sweet, the Victoria in front of him was a far cry from the Ice Queen he’d met that first day at the healthplex. He loved the way she’d come out of her shell for him, and he wanted to learn everything about her.
His mom would love Victoria. She’d been begging him for years for grandbabies, and he’d been thinking more and more now that he was older that it was time to settle down, put down some roots. Maybe he’d take her home one of these weekends, see how she got along with his family. His baby sisters were a pain in the ass, but they were great judges of character. He had a feeling, though, that they’d be just as enamored of Victoria as he was. First, he needed to make sure she was what he wanted, and he had a plan all mapped out.
“Do you have stuff to do today?”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Not particularly. I wanted to go see Kate, but other than that...” She trailed off with a small shrug. “What did you have in mind?”
“For starters...” His eyes skated over her body and he flashed her a wolfish grin. “I want you to get your butt back over here.”
His hand snaked out and ripped the sheet away from her, and she let out a soft cry of distress. “Hey!”
He rose up on all fours and she held up a hand as he crawled menacingly toward her.
“Blake...” She let out shriek of laughter as he rolled her under him, peppering her face with kisses. “Stop, please!”
He braced himself over her with a grin. “Give me one good reason.”
“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “That’s hardly a good reason.”
“It is! Did you know that poor dental hygiene can lead to all kinds of things, including heart disease? It’s even been linked to erectile dysfunction.”
His brows drew together and he relaxed his stance, leaning backward to rest on his heels. “Is that true?”
“I don’t know, but it sounded good!” Victoria rolled away with a spurt of laughter and raced to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
He shook his head with a grin, then heaved himself off the bed and padded across the hallway to the bathroom.
“Hey, babe,” he called through the door. “I was hoping you might show me around a bit today if you have some free time.”
The door cracked open and she peeked out at him. “Really?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “I thought you could show me some of your favorite spots. We’ll grab lunch and just... relax.”
He left out the part about relaxing in bed—after they’d made love again—but she’d figure that out soon enough.
She studied him for a moment, contemplating his words. “I was going to stop by Kate’s house today to check on her. Would you like to come with me?”
“Of course. I’d like to see how she’s doing anyway.”
The sweetest smile lit her face, and she stared at him as if he’d hung the moon. He just barely refrained from barging in and sweeping her off her feet, taking her back to bed.
“I’d love to.”
“Perfect.” He winked at her. “We’ll stop by your house real quick so you can change, then we’ll head out.”
Just over an hour later, they stepped through the front door of Victoria’s house. She turned automatically to disarm the system, but the silence hung heavily in the air.
“That’s strange,” she murmured.
“Is something wrong?” He automatically glanced around the house, looking for threats, but nothing jumped out at him. Turning back to Victoria, she shook her head.
“I must have forgotten to set the alarm. I remember being in a hurry because you had just shown up, and...” She shrugged. “I must’ve walked right out without arming it.”
“Do you want me to look around?”
“No, it’s okay.” She waved him off. “I’m sure it was just me. I’ve been a little sidetracked lately.”
“I can see how that’d happen.” He pulled her against him for a lengthy kiss. “Go on up and change, sweetheart. I’ll be right here. Unless you’d like some help. I’d be more than happy to lend a hand. Or two.” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively and she pushed off him with a laugh.
“You stay right here.”
“I don’t even get to watch?”
She stretched up on her toes for a kiss. “Maybe if you’re nice, you’ll get to see me tonight.”
She pulled out of his arms and threw a saucy smirk over her shoulder as she strolled toward the stairs, hips swaying with each step. Damn woman was going to be the death of him. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and sank onto the couch with a grin.
He’d stopped by the QSG office yesterday and told Con about Victoria’s abduction in Ohio. He suspected her captor had been trailing her for years, but the question was—why target her now? She’d changed her name, done everything right to cover her tracks. Since she’d been a minor at the time, her record was sealed. Or, at least, it should have been. Had someone managed to find the original file, or had the killer just now found her by sheer luck? It was possible, he supposed. Blake knew he could trust his friend with the info, and he’d use all available resources to dig into the case and see what he could find.
“Blake?” Victo
ria’s voice floated down the stairs, and he called back to her, his eyes never leaving the phone.
“Yeah, babe?”
“Blake.”
Her voice was soft, deceptively calm, yet he could hear the tension hovering just below the surface. His head swiveled toward the stairs, and he was already rising from the couch, stowing his phone away when he caught sight of Victoria. She was halted in place, paused halfway down the steps, face white as a sheet.
He rested one hand on the newel post at the base of the stairs, gaze sweeping over her. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
She lifted a shaky hand to point over her shoulder. “Someone was in my room.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded silently, and he slipped his hand into hers. If it made her feel better, he’d check it out again. After all she’d been through, there was no harm in making her feel overly secure. He tugged her up the stairs.
“Is something missing?” He glanced at her over his shoulder, watching her face as she spoke.
“I can’t tell.”
He threw a confused look her way at the strange statement. She’d only been up here for a minute or two, how could she have possibly...? Blake turned his gaze toward the bedroom and jerked them to a stop.
“Goddamn it!”
His eyes lit on the massacred room. Whoever was responsible had spent an inordinate amount of time taking their rage out on her bed. The pillows were shredded, and her mattress had been hacked literally to pieces, most of which littered the floor like a fine layer of snow, covering everything underneath.
“Fuck!” Rage ripped through him and he clenched his fist to keep from putting it through the nearest wall. He hadn’t really taken her claim seriously, thinking she’d just been stressed out and reading too much into things. Turning to the woman in question, he noted her remarkable calm. She was scared, he could see it in her eyes, but she assessed the situation with a steel spine.
Unable to control his rioting emotions, he hauled her against him. “Thank God you weren’t here.”
She stood, transfixed, her eyes never wavering from a spot on the wall across the room.
“What’s wrong?”
She lifted a shaky finger and pointed. “That necklace.”
His gaze found the object. It hung from the blade of a knife that’d been driven into the drywall just to the right of the bed. “Is it special to you?”
“Not to me.” She licked her lips. “Leah.”
Blake tipped his head to one side. “Did she have one like that?”
“She was wearing it the night she was murdered.”
VICTORIA STOOD OFF to the side as she watched the proceedings, her body numb with shock, just staring at that damn necklace since the police had arrived. Her fingers flitted about the base of her neck as if searching for the identical mate. The one hanging from the wall wasn’t hers; the matching locket was in her jewelry armoire, the clasp broken from so many years of wear. This one was pristine, and it looked exactly the way it had when they’d received them on Christmas, only a few months before Leah was murdered.
She was dimly aware of Blake watching her, shooting furtive glances her way every few seconds. It was both reassuring and unsettling. He’d immediately taken charge and called the cops in. Now he and Detective Sanchez stood off to the side, speaking quietly while the others combed the room.
The killer had left it for her, out in the open where she’d be sure to see it—as a trophy or a warning, she wasn’t sure. Was he bragging about his accomplishments, or was he indicating that she would be next? The locket hung from the wall, the chain dangling from the blade of a deadly knife. She didn’t own anything like it, never had. Even from here, it looked wicked with a heavy-duty black handle. A chill snaked down her spine. Was this the same knife he’d used on Leah? That bastard had been in her house. How many times? Had he been watching her, waiting?
Her knees began to shake, her body trembling with anger and fear. Within seconds, Blake was at her side. “You good?”
“Fine.”
He stepped in front of her, obscuring her view of the room. “Sweetheart, you should sit down for a minute. Detective Sanchez wants to ask you a few questions anyway.” Briefly closing her eyes, she swayed on her feet and Blake yanked her against him. “We’re going downstairs. Now.”
“No.”
“Yes.” His eyes were hard as they stared down at her. “You need a break. Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”
“Blake...”
“Victoria.” His tone brooked no argument, and she let out a sigh of resignation.
“Fine. I’ll go make some coffee, and we can talk in the living room.”
Victoria trudged downstairs, and the sound of footsteps followed several minutes later. Unintelligible words floated toward her as she measured out the coffee grounds and set the pot to brew. Her mind remained curiously blank as she loaded three mugs, milk, and sugar onto a serving tray.
She carried the tray out to the living room and set them on the coffee table. Studiously avoiding both men, she returned to the kitchen. She leaned against the counter as the percolator spit out the last out the coffee, and she carried the carafe to the living room. She placed it on the table then picked up a pillow and hugged it to her chest as she curled up in a corner of the couch.
Detective Sanchez shot Blake a quick look before glancing at her. “I’m sorry to see you again under these circumstances, Dr. Carr.”
Victoria nodded politely, her fingers digging into the pillow. Blake poured coffee into a mug and peeled the pillow away then pressed the mug into her stiff fingers. Despite the temperature outside she felt frozen, and she was grateful for the heat seeping through the porcelain.
“Thank you for coming.” She forced the words past the lump in her throat.
“So, you believe that the necklace belonged to Leah Wilson?”
She nodded.
His brow furrowed. “And you own one that’s identical?”
“Leah and I received those matching necklaces for Christmas. We wore them all the time. When the police found her...” She broke off and glanced away. “They assumed it’d been lost during the struggle, but they weren’t able to find it. Now... I guess he’s had it this whole time.”
“We’ll certainly analyze it. You’re positive it’s not yours?”
She shook her head. “Mine is broken. It’s been in my jewelry box for the last year or so, and I keep forgetting to get it fixed.”
“Would you mind if we took a look to compare them?”
She nodded reluctantly. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
“Would you like me to get it?”
Blake’s voice startled her and she turned to him before glancing back at the detective, who nodded. “I’d like to see it.”
Blake looked at her for permission and she hesitated, biting her lip. She didn’t really want to go back in there, see the destruction wrought. “The tray lifts out. It’s in a black box in the bottom.”
“I’ll be right back.” Blake brushed her as he stood, and she vaguely wondered if it was intentional—just a small connection to let her know that he was there. Or maybe she was just reading too much into things. She stared into the cup of creamy hazelnut-flavored coffee and felt a tiny smile curve her mouth. Blake was observant—he’d fixed it exactly the way she liked it. She’d needed something to do with her hands, and he’d read her perfectly.
“Since we’re alone, would you mind answering some questions?”
She met Sanchez’s eyes. “Sure.”
“You said you were gone last night. Were you with someone?”
“I was with Blake. We went to dinner, then...” She trailed off, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Fortunately, she didn’t have to explain because the detective continued.
“Good. Under the circumstances, I would advise you to watch your surroundings carefully and be aware of your interactions with people. This person clearly knows a lot about you.”
“He obviously has some sort of obsession with me, I just can’t quite figure out what it is.”
Sanchez tipped his head to one side and shrugged. “Hard to tell. You changed your name, moved away. Maybe he’s held on to the fantasy all these years.”
Her stomach flipped, gruesome visions dancing in front of her eyes. “He’s going to kill me. Just like Leah, and just like Monique.”
“We’re going to do everything in our power to keep that from happening.” The detective’s voice was grim, and she threw a look his way.
“No offense, detective, but you don’t have the manpower to watch over me every minute of the day.”
“No.” Sanchez glanced toward the stairs as the sound of footsteps drew nearer. “But I would advise taking extra precautions, staying with someone you trust for the time being.”
Someone you trust... Blake immediately came to mind, and Victoria’s attention was drawn to the man in question as she moved into the room, a dark expression on his face. He handed the small black box to the detective before settling on the couch beside her. A proprietary hand landed on her knee, and she almost smiled despite the severity of the situation.
The box snapped open with a soft click and the detective inspected the locket. He tapped the tablet on his lap, enlarging an image on the screen. He nodded, swiping through photos, murmuring to himself, and Victoria shot Blake a look. His gaze dropped to her now-cool coffee and he took it from her hands and set it on the table. He leaned back against the cushions and draped an arm around her, easing her into his embrace.
A few moments later, Detective Sanchez gazed over the table at them. “Looks identical, so I believe you’re correct, Dr. Carr.”
She’d suspected as much, but the words struck a blow to her heart. Anger flowed through her veins. This bastard had killed her best friend, and now he’d been watching her, toying with her. Leaving trophies in her house. She wouldn’t let him get away with it.
“He’ll come after me again, we all know it.” At the sound of her voice, both men’s heads swiveled toward her.
