Tall, Dark and Deadly Books 1 - 4

by Lisa Renee Jones

  He stared down at her, nestled by his side … so perfect, so needing someone to take care of her. She didn’t think so, but he did. Everyone needed someone, and she was no different. No matter how much she tried to convince herself and the world differently.

  He wasn’t going to let her deal with life alone anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mark woke up to the soft floral scent of Lindsey.

  He smiled as he ran his hand down her hair. He was so glad he’d followed her to Vegas. He had always considered himself conservative, the type who would date a woman for a long time before deciding she was the one. Apparently, love didn’t happen that way. It took even the most reserved by storm.

  Because Mark knew no matter how many days, weeks, even months passed, Lindsey was the woman for him. It was crazy in terms of how long they had known each other, but it was no less true. No way was he letting her go back to Washington. But she was like a scared deer in the headlights, ready to bolt. One wrong move and she could get spooked.

  He could lose her forever.

  Lindsey raised her head and peered down at him, her eyes soft from sleep, her voice sultry and hoarse. “Morning, Counselor.”

  Their lips pressed together for a quick kiss. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

  “After the nightmare,” she said, “wonderful. I love sleeping with you.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “I love sleeping with you too. I was just thinking I could get used to having you in my bed.”

  She laughed and smiled widely, obviously pleased at his words. “You were, were you?”

  Mark shook his head. “Sure was.”

  “Well, I’m glad you weren’t thinking about how to get me out of your bed.” She poked his chest playfully.

  “Never,” he said, his voice serious now.

  Lindsey smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, fingers resting in his chest hair. Abruptly, she raised her head, a question in her expression. “Did you bring luggage?”

  “It’s downstairs. I need to call the bell desk. I’ll do that and order us some coffee and breakfast.”

  Lindsey sat up, freeing him to move, blankets pulled to her shoulders. “Sounds good, but I’m supposed to meet up with a couple detectives for lunch at eleven-thirty. Make it a light breakfast for me, please.”

  Mark shot her a quick look. “I’m coming with you.”

  Lindsey pushed herself off the bed, letting the blanket drop. She walked towards the bathroom, oblivious of her nakedness. She peeked over her shoulder at Mark. “I know,” she said and then smiled.

  Mark laughed, pleased with her response. He was still smiling when he heard the bellman on the other end of the phone. Shoving his feet in his pants, he dialed room service. He’d barely finished his tasks when Lindsey exited the bathroom wearing the hotel robe, with wet hair falling over her shoulders.

  He could so get used to her like this, comfortable and happy and, most importantly, by his side.

  *

  Lindsey took a quick shower, finding herself eager to join Mark.

  It was an odd feeling, considering how used to being alone she was. She found him sitting on the bed, a room service tray in front of him. “That was fast,” she said, surprised that the food had already arrived, but thankful for the blessing of caffeine. “Coffee, please.”

  “I made it worth their while,” he said as he reached for the coffee pot and filled a cup for her. Then he patted the bed beside him. “Come sit with me.”

  She picked up her cup and let her nostrils flare with the scent. “I love the smell of hot coffee,” she said, then took a sip of the steaming beverage. “I can’t believe I’m not hung over this morning.”

  Mark chuckled. “You were tipsy, not sloppy drunk.”

  Lindsey surveyed the selection of fresh, plump strawberries, bagels, and cream cheese with approval. “This is perfect,” she said and plucked a juicy strawberry from the tray and bit into it.

  Juice dripped down her chin, and before she could get to a napkin, Mark leaned forward and licked it off. “And deliciously messy,” he finished for her, and then leaned back into his former position and picked up his cup.

  As if nothing had happened. Lindsey was completely speechless. The intimacy of his action had floored her. He drove her crazy, this man. She eyed him, looking for the source of his power over her. His hair was early morning rumpled, his very nice, defined chest bare for her viewing. He looked casual and comfortable, and too damn sexy to be legal.

  Mark looked at her. “What?”

  “You’re a very bad boy, Mark,” she said, enunciating every word in a teasing taunt. “You know very well what you just did.”

  He met her gaze with wicked mischief dancing in his eyes. “And you’re a very bad girl. We both know how you teased me last night.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him and laughed. “Turnaround isn’t fair play in my book.”

  “Is that right?” he asked, “I’ll try and keep that in mind.” He smiled and reached for the newspaper. “Want to share?”

  She accepted, feeling the odd sense of comfort doing so brought to her. She drank her coffee and finished off her strawberry, sitting beside him, feeling his presence as if it was gold. Lindsey curled her legs under her body and smiled to herself. She’d never felt like this with Greg or any other man. Just being together, even without conversation, felt perfect.

  A warm, safe feeling wrapped around her.

  Unable to help herself, her gaze kept drifting to his profile. Mark looked up, as if he felt her eyes on him, but she didn’t look away. The paper had dropped to her lap as she had abandoned her covert inspection for a more open one. He offered her a sexy smile. “Now, what are you looking at?”

  “You,” she said pointedly.

  He grabbed her and pulled her over to his side, wrapping his arm around her waist. He planted a firm kiss on her lips and she smiled with satisfaction. Then she rubbed her hands on his cheek, feeling the morning stubble beneath her soft palms. “You don’t like me like this?” he asked as he touched his own face.

  She laughed at the ridiculous idea. “Actually I like you like this. Very much.”

  He grinned devilishly. “Oh yeah, how much? Show me.”

  “Gladly,” she said as she wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. Her tongue slid between his teeth, and she heard him moan.

  Would she ever get enough of the flavor so uniquely Mark Reeves?

  *

  In the back of a cab, Mark beside her, Lindsey knew it was time to make a few confessions. “Mark, about Greg.”

  His gaze moved to hers, sharpness to his expression and tone. “What about him?”

  Lindsey grabbed his hand. “Hey, take it easy,” she said in a low voice. “I just want to tell you what he said about the case.”

  His eyes searched hers a minute, and then he relaxed, shoulders easing, expression less tense. Then, and only then, did she continue. “Well,” she said, “here’s the thing. I don’t think it was such a good idea that I met with him.”

  Mark’s eyes darkened. “What does that mean exactly?”

  Lindsey looked out of the window as the cab screeched to a halt. “We’re here,” she said. “That was quick.”

  Mark paid the driver as Lindsey stepped onto the sidewalk. The sun was so hot, perspiration instantly beaded on her lip. She started to walk towards the restaurant, eager to find air conditioning, when Mark’s hand closed around her arm, stopping her forward motion. She turned to him. Damn, she didn’t want to finish this now. It was stupid to start such a conversation before this meeting.

  She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Finish,” he demanded.

  Lindsey sighed in resignation. “I ticked him off. He brought up the past,” she paused, “as in he and I, telling me he loved me, and crap like that.”

  Mark’s tension was palpable. “And?”

  “I screwed up. I threw his words back in
his face, so he lashed out. He offered life with no parole. I declined and told him we would beat him in court. I doubt he’ll negotiate.”

  Mark stared at her a long moment without showing any emotion, then abruptly he broke out in laughter, shaking his head from side to side.

  Lindsey gaped at him in amazement. She had expected him to be angry. “I can’t believe you are laughing,” she blurted. “I thought you’d be furious.”

  To her amazement, he pulled her into his arms, and planted a kiss on her forehead. Then he looked down at her, understanding in his eyes. “It wasn’t your smartest move ever, but I don’t think he left you many options. He tried to manipulate you personally with business, and he got socked in the gut. He deserved it.”

  “Really?” she asked in disbelief. She hadn’t realized it, but Mark was right. Greg was manipulating her, or trying to, as he always had in the past.

  “Yes,” he said, with amusement in his voice. “Really. Now, let’s get the heck out of this heat, and get this meeting over with.”

  Lindsey grabbed his arm, deciding his good mood needed to be utilized to the fullest degree. He turned back and looked at her in surprise. “Since you are taking things so well and all,” she said with a pause, “there is this tiny other thing.”

  Mark shook his head. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “I interviewed Elizabeth’s boyfriend.”

  Mark’s eyes went wide. “What? On your own?” She nodded. “Do you know how dangerous that was?”

  Lindsey cringed at his tone. “I will say, as much as I hate to admit it, the owner of the Pink Panther was pretty creepy.”

  “You went to the Pink Panther?” he asked incredulously.

  She nodded.

  Throwing his hands up in the air, he said, “I give up.” Then he grabbed her hand. “Tell me about it later. We need to get this meeting over with.”

  Lindsey and Mark stepped into the Carrow’s lobby at exactly eleven-thirty. Two men moved towards them. The one who seemed in charge was stocky, with brown hair and eyes. He also lacked good manners. Not bothering with hello, he eyed Lindsey and said, “Damn if you don’t look just like the victims.”

  Mark bit back a harsh retort. He might be paranoid, but Lindsey’s resemblance to the victims bugged the hell out of him. Mark watched the man’s face as Lindsey responded to him. “Yeah, well, it’s coincidence.” But it bothered her, he could tell. Her face was etched with tension, her body stiff.

  The man snorted and shoved his hands into his worn jeans pockets. “A damn spooky coincidence.”

  Lindsey’s voice held irritation, thick and unhidden. “I won’t introduce myself, since clearly you’ve figured out who I am.” She waved a hand towards Mark. “Kevin Woods meet Mark Reeves, an associate of mine.”

  Mark shook hands with the man, who then motioned towards his partner, a tall, lanky man with curly black hair who appeared nearer forty than thirty. “This is my partner, John Conner.”

  A few minutes later, greetings aside, they sat at a table, a round of coffee ordered, but no food. Once the waitress filled everyone’s cups, Kevin narrowed his gaze on Lindsey. “I did some checking on you, Lindsey. You’re that attorney who handled the Hudson case.” His tone was accusing.

  Lindsey leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, her face cool and composed. “I didn’t know Hudson was known in Nevada.”

  Mark didn’t care how they knew about the case. “What’s the point?”

  John interjected, “His point is that we did some digging. There are similarities in the victim profiles of Hudson, your new client, and our perp. We are all about solving this case, but we also want to know who we’re dealing with and what their motives are.”

  Kevin made a face. “A connection is unlikely. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t trying to make one. Hudson was convicted with DNA evidence. Are you trying to save your name here, Lindsey, or catch a perp?”

  Mark felt the heat of anger, quick and hard. He kept his tone low, but it reeked of his frustrations. “That’s out of line. We’re trying to save lives here. Are you going to help us or not?”

  “I care about saving lives, not my name,” Lindsey said, as if Mark hadn’t spoken. “And just in case you don’t get how the legal world works—I won my case, and that makes me look damn good. What the guy did or didn’t do after doesn’t impact that job.” Kevin stared at her, his face flushed with the heat of anger. Lindsey continued, determination in her voice. No way was anyone speaking until she was done. “And that’s exactly why I joined the FBI.” She paused and let the words sink in. “I’m here to catch a murderer, plain and simple. If you want to do the same, then let’s get down to business. If not, let’s stop wasting each other’s time.”

  Kevin’s temper had noticeably declined. “I’m just trying to make sure we all have the same agenda. Nobody wants this guy more than me. I saw the bodies with my own eyes. I know what he’s like, what he does to his victims.”

  Lindsey’s eyes filled with shadows. “You’re wrong. I want more.” Something about the way she said the words silenced the table. For long moments, no one so much as blinked.

  Kevin broke the silence, shifting in his chair as if he couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re pretty certain they’re all connected, aren’t you? That your Hudson guy is innocent?”

  Lindsey met his gaze with a direct stare. “As you said, there’s DNA evidence against Hudson. That’s hard to beat.” She paused, and then added, “Unless it was planted.”

  Mark looked at her with surprise. This was the first time he’d heard this theory, though he thought it made damn good sense. John sat his cup down, leaning forward as if he had already considered her theory. “It could have been planted. I was thinking that on the way over here. I had a case last year …” He waved off the words. “Bottom line, it could be a plant. What was the DNA source?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, and exchanged a knowing look with Mark, as if she wanted his silent approval.

  “There’s no way you could,” Mark reminded her.

  She nodded. “I know.” She refocused on the other two men, explaining, “I dropped out after Hudson was charged with the final attack. I never saw the DNA evidence.”

  John reached for his cup. “Find out if it was hair, because it’s damn easy to plant. If it is, then it’s a whole new ballgame as far as I’m concerned.” He took a drink. “Okay, let’s backtrack. If the cases are connected, then our perp is now in Manhattan, or at least was recently, right?”

  Mark nodded. “Yes, but if it’s the same guy, he’s smart. Williams was picked up, and he dropped out of sight.”

  Lindsey cleared her throat. “I did a calendar tracking of all of the attacks yesterday. The timelines support one attacker.”

  “That’s all the more reason why we need to play connect-the-dots with you guys,” Mark said deliberately, pleased with Lindsey’s sharp actions.

  John turned his attention towards Mark. “I know who you are too. You’ve gotten a lot of creeps put back on the street.”

  “Not this again,” Lindsey said. “I thought we established we are all on the same team here?”

  Her eyes met Mark’s and he could see her apprehension. But she didn’t have anything to worry about. He didn’t let guys like these get to him. Mark shrugged. “You know the saying⎯don’t throw stones if you live in a glass house.” He paused for effect. “I inherited a lot of bad field work and I’m obligated to do my job.” Mark’s meaning sliced through the air, though his tone was nonthreatening. He was reminding them that police errors set a lot of bad guys free. “I hate what we have to do for the system sometimes as much as anyone else, but I respect what the principles are built on. Just as I am sure you do.”

  Lindsey looked at Mark, appreciation in her eyes, before she switched her attention to the entire table. “I believe we can help each other, but we need to be on the same team. Is that possible?”

  A waitress appeared and started filling cups. Kevin took
a drink of his, and then said, “We all want the same things.”

  Mark could tell from Lindsey’s face she wasn’t happy with his response. After a long pause, Lindsey asked, “All of your victims went to the University of Las Vegas, right?”

  Kevin nodded. “Right.”

  “Any common classes or professors?” Mark asked.

  “No, none,” Kevin said, setting his cup on the table.

  “What time of day were the bodies found?” Lindsey asked.

  “All late night, early morning,” Kevin said.

  “Alcohol in their blood?” Mark asked.

  “Yes.” Kevin frowned. “Explain that question.”

  “Just wondering if a bar could be the connection,” Lindsey explained. “We think it might be in New York.”

  Kevin’s brows sunk as if he was afraid they had missed something. “We never found that kind of connection.”

  “What about boyfriends?” Mark asked.

  “Nope,” Kevin responded. “No steady ones, at least.”

  Lindsey had pulled out a notepad and was going down a list. “Evidence on the bodies?”

  John spoke up. “Yes, same pattern on all. Rope burns on the arms, a few other similarities between victims.”

  Lindsey stared at the tablecloth in deep thought. All eyes were on her strained face. Mark sensed some transition in her mood. She was bothered by something. He decided to save her a response. He cleared his throat, and responded for her. “That sounds like our guy’s pattern.”

  “Got pictures?” Kevin asked.

  “Yes, we do,” Mark commented, but didn’t reach for them. “What I don’t understand is why the Williams cases weren’t linked through the national system.”