by Karen Fenech
“Thames. Thames. Thames.”
Sam ended his call. He cut a glance to Paige. “I want to know about your interest in the postcard.”
“Thames. Thames. Thames.”
Paige didn’t respond. The chanting became a buzzing in her ears. The activists weren’t here because she was here. They were protesting the Bureau, not her. But did that matter? Not if Thames had found her. The postcard. The media. The activists. It was all too much. Her breathing picked up. She could hear each rapid inhale and exhale.
“Paige!”
Sam sounded alarmed. He must have heard her distress, because rather than continuing into the office parking lot, he reversed the truck and took a different road.
Paige’s stomach balked. She leaned forward as far as the seat belt would allow. “I’m going to be sick.”
Sam stopped on the gravel by the roadside. Paige released the seat belt and jerked the door handle at the same time. She stumbled onto the road, then dropped to her hands and knees, retching.
Sam came up behind her. He put one large hand on the back of her head and wrapped his other arm around her waist, taking her weight. There was nothing in her stomach. Her nerves had been too tight to eat anything following Sam’s call about Janet Lambert. Only bile came up, and afterward, she shook with dry heaves. Finally, she was spent. If not for Sam’s arm around her, she would have landed face first on the road.
“I’m okay,” she said, but her voice sounded as weak as the rest of her.
“The hell you are,” Sam said. “More bad fish?”
Clearly, he hadn’t believed her excuse the first time she’d gone off to empty her stomach. There was anger and frustration in his tone, but overriding both was concern. She knew how to deal with anger, but his concern terrified her—terrified her because of how much it was coming to mean to her and because the more he cared, the more he would push to find out what she wasn’t telling him.
No good would come of sharing her fears with him. How could it, when all she had was speculation? But now, with Lambert murdered and a postcard found near her body, how could Paige keep from telling Sam everything? How could she withhold information that could help them solve the Lambert murder?
And more than anything else, there was Ivy. Paige had never thought Thames was a threat to Ivy, but if Thames was breaking his pattern to get to Paige, he could break it with Paige’s sister.
Paige’s breath caught. “I have to go home. I have to see Ivy.” Paige pushed against Sam’s hold, but he didn’t release her. Becoming frantic now, Paige’s words tumbled out one on top of the other in her desperation. “Sam, I need to get to Ivy right now.”
Sam gripped her chin, lifting it so she would look at him. “I’ll take you now. We’ll go now. Okay?”
Paige stared into his eyes. “Hurry.”
She could see the questions in his eyes. Eventually, he’d ask them, but for now he responded to her urgency and withheld them. He got to his feet, taking her with him. When he stood her upright, her legs wobbled as if she were a foal taking its first steps. He half-carried her back to the passenger seat. As he drove, he glanced between her and the road, peering at her in the streaks of early dawn. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth grew more pronounced the longer he looked at her.
When Sam parked in front of her building, Paige clawed at the door handle. Sam came around to her side, reaching her as she stepped onto the asphalt. He took her hand. She found herself clutching his fingers.
The sun was a little bolder on the horizon, but the sky was still more darkness than light. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and led her across the parking lot.
Inside her apartment, Paige didn’t stop to turn on a light but crossed the space to Ivy’s room at a run. Sam was right beside her. Ivy’s bedroom door was closed. Paige flung it open. Ivy was wrapped in a sheet. She was wearing earbuds and didn’t stir as Paige closed the distance to the bed and stared down at her sister.
Paige’s eyes filled with tears, and she pressed a fist to her mouth to hold them inside. Ivy was all right. Ivy was all right.
Sam was still at the bedroom door. Ivy’s blinds were open to the early morning light. Paige could see a deep line now on Sam’s forehead. She joined him, and they left Ivy’s room together, closing the door softly behind them.
In the hall, Paige said, “I need a minute.”
She broke away from Sam and went to the tiny bathroom, taking a moment to rinse the sickness from her mouth and organize her thoughts. She left the door open. Sam had just seen her at her worst, and soon enough, she’d have no secrets from him. A glance in the mirror above the vanity showed her face was pale and clammy. Her eyes were wide and filled with dread. She was cracking under the strain of desperation and fear.
She finished with her toothbrush and mouthwash. Sam was still standing by the door where she’d left him. She joined him in the hall, flicking on lights as she passed them on her way to the living room.
Sam watched her. “You are one tough woman, Paige. I don’t know what to do to show you that you don’t need to be tough with me.”
The raw emotion in his eyes made tears burn her throat. This thing with Thames was too big. It was consuming her. She didn’t have the strength to keep it inside any longer. She was being boxed in. Like a cornered animal, everywhere she turned, danger lurked. Even Sam was dangerous. He’d found a way past her defenses, and she was now in a battle with herself, wanting to keep him out and needing to let him in. If Thames was in Kirk County, Sam needed to know.
“I’m not tough, Sam. I’m a coward.” Paige’s voice came out strangled.
He closed the distance to her. He blew out a breath ripe with worry and frustration, then raised a hand and gently brushed his thumb down her cheek. “Why would you say that?”
A small tremor went through her. “I didn’t leave New York. I ran away. I ran from Denver, too.”
“What are you running from, Paige?”
Paige closed her eyes and whispered, “Todd Thames.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Thames? Of all the things Sam thought she might say, he hadn’t expected her to name Thames. Sam moved his thumb slowly across her face and said gently, “Why are you running from Thames?”
Paige lowered her gaze and linked her fingers so tightly the tips whitened. Sam took her hands in his. He could feel her trembling.
“Thames has been tracking me for the last year,” she said.
“But Thames was incarcerated until last week. How do you know this?”
She looked up at him now, her gaze haunted. It cut Sam like a knife.
“You’re going to think I’m making this up, or worse, that I’m losing my mind.”
Sam could see she really believed what she was saying, and the knife cut deeper. “Why do you think I wouldn’t believe you?” Did she think so little of him that she expected he would brush her off?
“Because all I have is my word. That no longer means anything to anyone.” Paige uttered the words in a whisper.
It was then he realized that it wasn’t him she doubted, but herself. Anger firmed Sam’s mouth that her confidence in herself was so shattered. His hold on her tightened, and he bent down so their gazes were level. “Try me.”
Her eyes widened. Those beautiful brown eyes searched his, looking to see if he meant what he said. The raw hope in her gaze struck him hard.
Paige’s breath quickened. “Thames held a gun to my head on that mountain.” Goose bumps sprang up on the exposed flesh of her arms. “I’d lost control of that situation.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not right. I’d never had control. Thames had been in control the whole time.”
Paige paled. Sam kept her hands in one of his and wrapped his other arm around her.
“My squad arrived, and he dropped his weapon,” she went on. “At the time, I thought he was going to kill me.” Paige shook her head slowly, and her voice dropped. “But I don’t think he would have, not there, not that way. The w
ay he looked at me, with interest, I think he would have waited and killed me as he had the others.” Paige shuddered and swallowed before she could continue. “When my squad arrived, I expected Thames would be angry that his plans for me were ruined, but he was smiling, and what was coming from him was . . . excitement, anticipation.
“I received the first postcard a few weeks after his capture. At first, I thought it was from one of the members of my squad. They weren’t happy with me after my actions jeopardized the case and were letting me know it. No one wanted to partner with me during training sessions. I got crank calls. Some photographs of Thames with big red lipstick kisses drawn on were taped to my locker. Other photos of him were left on my desk. On those, someone wrote my name and ‘For the defense.’ I found dog shit in one of my desk drawers.” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Like that.”
Sam was angry that Paige’s squad had retaliated against her, but he latched on to yet another reference to a postcard. “Tell me about the postcard.”
“It was an image of the Adirondack Mountains. At Thames’s murder trial, he let me know that he’d sent it.”
Paige’s pulse fluttered in her throat as she told Sam about Thames singing her street address to her. Sam’s blood heated with fresh anger.
Paige’s eyes dimmed. “I ran that first postcard through forensics, and it came back clean. I went to my superior anyway. With Thames in custody, I considered that he might have someone watching me and Ivy. But without proof, Special Agent in Charge Lewis didn’t believe me.”
At the bleakness in her eyes, Sam’s back teeth ground together. Paige’s boss had dismissed her out of hand. How much of his decision was based on her performance on the mountain? Her poor judgment had surely stained her credibility. As she recounted the incident, Sam could see that her superior’s dismissal of her suspicions had been a blow to her spirit. Even worse, it had left her vulnerable to Thames.
What had Sam told her about law enforcement having a responsibility to the people they served? Paige was an agent, sure, but it was possible she was also the target of a criminal. Where were those who were supposed to fight for her? Her superior should have looked into the matter. Sam was certainly going to.
“Do you still have the postcards?” At Paige’s nod, Sam said, “We’ll compare the test results to the one found today.”
Paige went into her room and retrieved both cards. They were both in plastic evidence bags, along with the lab reports. She handed them to him. Sam studied the cards for a few minutes, then stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans.
Paige paced the length of the small living room in quick, tight circles. “I should have stayed in New York, baited Thames, and brought him down, but I’m not the same woman, the same agent I was before that day on the mountain. After that day, I was too afraid.”
Sam went cold thinking of her baiting Thames. He put his hands on her shoulders, halting her. “No, you should not have done that. You’re alive. You did everything right.”
“I didn’t do anything right. I didn’t do anything at all. I ran. As soon as I knew the first postcard had come from Thames, I transferred to Denver. The one-year anniversary of that day in the Adirondacks was a few weeks ago. I received a second postcard. This postcard also was an image of the Adirondacks. It was sent to my home in Denver. I don’t know how he managed to track me there, but he did, and I ran again.
“I came here, but he’s found me twice before. No matter where I go, he’ll find me. I think he has, Sam. I think he killed Janet Lambert. I know his MO is different this time. I know the victimology is different. Even the postcard image is different.
“I don’t know why he would choose Lambert, but I think he did. I’m the only one who would know the significance of the postcards, and I think that’s why Thames left it. He wants me to know that he knows where I am, that he can get to me at any time.” She made a choked sound. “I have no proof of any of this. It sounds crazy even to me.”
Her face lost what little color it had left. She stopped moving and curled into herself, making herself as small as she could. Sam pulled her against his chest. She clung to him, trembling in his arms. Thames was breaking her down, keeping her on the edge, never knowing if today was the day he would strike.
Sam didn’t know how she’d withstood the pressure, the torment, for this long. He knew seasoned agents who’d cracked under less. And she’d been on her own. But no longer. Every muscle in Sam’s body tensed with rage. Thames would have to go through Sam to get to Paige now.
He drew back just enough to look at her, then nudged up her chin. “You’re not alone in this.” His eyes bore into hers. “Not anymore.”
Paige squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she stared into his eyes. “You can’t know how much that means to me.”
But Sam did know. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable. Seeing her anguish, Sam’s heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. “We will end this with Thames.”
“I need to protect Ivy. I never believed Ivy was in danger from Thames. I was sure she posed no interest to him, but Sam, if I’m right about Janet Lambert and that he chose her to send a message to me, I can’t be sure he won’t go after Ivy.”
“We’ll put a man on her.”
“Once she’s at school, she’ll be safe,” Paige said. “For student safety, all the doors at the school, except for the front entrance, are kept locked so no one can get in. I don’t want her to know about this. I don’t want to frighten her when all we have so far is speculation.”
“We can do that. Our man can follow the vehicle that drives Ivy to the school, watch the school, then follow the vehicle back here again. How’s that?”
Paige gazed up at him. “Thank you.”
There was a wealth of emotion behind her words, and the vise around Sam’s heart squeezed harder. For far too long, she’d had no one but herself to count on. Again, he thought, That’s over now. Sam palmed the back of her head. Gently, he sifted his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. He held her gaze and covered her mouth with his. Protectiveness and possessiveness that he’d never felt for any other woman surged through him, and he crushed her against him.
Paige reached up to where Sam held her face and curled her fingers around his wrist, kissing him with the same intensity.
Sounds came from Ivy’s room. Paige drew back and gave him a soft smile.
Sam stared down into those gorgeous eyes and couldn’t resist brushing his thumb along her full lower lip, now made fuller by his kiss. “I’ll make the call. One of our people will begin tailing Ivy right away. I’m going to go home and grab a shower, then I’ll be back. Janet Lambert’s autopsy is in a couple of hours in Columbia. We need to be there.” He touched her cheek softly. “Be back soon.”
When Paige came out of her bedroom, showered but still in her white bathrobe, the apartment intercom buzzed. She glanced at her watch. That would be Sam. When he confirmed it was him, she pressed a button to unlock the building door.
Sam reached her floor quickly. As soon as he stepped off the elevator, Paige met him. “Ivy?” Paige asked anxiously. Ivy hadn’t left for school, and Paige wanted to be sure an agent would be watching her when she did.
“It’s taken care of.”
Paige closed her eyes, overcome for a moment. Sam seemed to notice. He brushed his lips over her hair and just held her.
Paige opened her eyes, then backed into her apartment. “I’m running late. Give me a few minutes to dress. I haven’t made coffee, but there’s some in the cupboard to the left of the sink if you’d like a cup, and there’s breakfast stuff in the fridge.”
Sam snagged her hand as she whisked away from him. “I’ve already eaten. I can make something for you.”
Paige stopped moving and went into his arms again. The emotion that welled inside her was far out of proportion to his offer, but it surged and swelled. She was experiencing emotional overload this morning. His arms wrapped around her, and he tucked her head unde
r his chin and held her against him. Paige wound her arms around his waist, holding him as securely.
He cradled her head in his large hands and kissed her as if she were the most precious thing in his life. She’d never felt precious to anyone. Not even to her parents. They hadn’t really known what to make of her as she’d made choice after choice that defied their own desires for her. When she’d walked away, out of their lives, they hadn’t stopped her.
Sam must have sensed the dark turn her thoughts had taken. He cupped her chin and peered down at her. “Whatever you’re thinking, I can see it isn’t good.”
Now wasn’t the time for her revelation. “I’m wondering if you can cook.”
Sam raised his brows. “I can make toast.”
Feeling ridiculously close to tears, Paige said, “Toast would be great.”
Paige left her bedroom for the second time that morning. This time, she was fully dressed and smelled coffee brewing. A toasted English muffin sat on a plate with a container of low-fat cream cheese beside it. Sam was speaking on his cell phone. His gaze flicked to her and held.
“I’d appreciate if you could send me that information,” Sam said. “Thank you.”
She took a step closer to him. “What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about Thames tracking you, if that is indeed what is happening. We need to find out how he’s doing that. You mentioned that you think Thames has someone keeping tabs on you. Let’s go with that.
“I put in a call to the warden at the penitentiary to have the records of Thames’s visitors, phone calls received and made, and any correspondence sent to us. Thames doesn’t have any family or close colleagues at the college where he worked. He was a loner. In prison, he wouldn’t have had access to any resources he could use to track you. He would need someone outside to do that for him. That person could be his one loose end. We need to find him.”
