Dangerous Attraction

by Sidney Bristol

One year. One pregnancy. That was the rule. That was how he kept them from betraying him. He’d studied the greats, how they did it, what their methods were. Nothing good came from keeping her more than a year.

  “What do you want?” Wendy’s voice was quiet, soothing. She would be a gentle creature, which meant he needed to be mindful about how he handled her.

  “I want you to marry me. Give me a son.”

  “I’m already married.” She turned her head, and he stared into her dark brown eyes.

  He punched the dashboard. The old car was sturdy and took the abuse.

  How dare she speak of the other man in her life! That one was gone. She was his, now.

  “I’m sorry.” She recoiled, pressing her back against the car door.

  “You marry me, or I kill your family. I think I’ll start with your sister.” He pulled a photograph of Wendy and a dark-haired woman out of his jacket pocket and laid it on the seat between them. His hidden cameras had snapped the candid shot of the two at the sister’s apartment just last week.

  Wendy gasped and covered her mouth.

  “Or maybe I kill little Paul first?” He tossed another picture down. This time it was of a rosy-cheeked baby grinning up at the camera in his crib.

  “Oh my God. How did you get that?”

  “I took it. There is nowhere your loved ones will be safe from me. I’m in their lives.” He laid down three more pictures. Her husband at work. Her parents in their kitchen. And lastly, a photograph of Wendy asleep in her own bed. “What’ll it be, Wendy? Do you want to marry me?”

  Her tears glistened in the moonlight, so precious. Each wife had to be broken so that they could be molded to his will, becoming the woman they were destined to be. The radio began playing the holiday classic White Christmas. He hummed a few bars as he took in his bride. She’d make the right choice. They always did.

  Wendy nodded and swiped at her cheeks.

  “If I marry you, do you promise not to hurt them?”

  He leaned across the car and bumped Wendy’s chin with his knuckle.

  “I don’t care about them, Wendy. I care about you. What do you say? Want to be Mrs. White? I like that last name. I think it’ll remind us of this season.”

  She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Just don’t hurt them,” she whispered.

  “I’ve always wanted a Christmas wedding.” He shifted into drive, steering them back toward the strip and the drive-through wedding chapels, humming along to the radio.

  2.

  Bliss stepped into the Vegas Police Department and removed her sunglasses. She blinked away the sunspots and glanced around. The place was hopping first thing in the morning—people picking up their drunken friends, prostitutes and petty thieves posting bail. Most hadn’t even been to bed yet, but that was the nature of Vegas.

  She strode to the counter, twisting the strap of her purse in her hands.

  Why had she waited?

  “Excuse me?” she said when the officer at the counter didn’t acknowledge her.

  “Yeah?” The man didn’t even look up from his paperwork.

  “My sister, she’s missing.” She laid a photograph on the counter and slid it across.

  “How long has she been gone?”

  Gone. Not missing.

  Bliss swallowed her irritation. Popular theory was that a person had to be MIA for seventy-two hours before they could be considered missing. Popular theory was wrong, and so was the idea that Wendy was just—gone. Someone needed to be searching for her now.

  “She’s not at her house, and she’s not answering her phone. I’ve been trying her since last night.” Bliss loved her little sister fiercely. Ever since Wendy gave birth and fell into a depression, they’d begun the habit of getting together every couple of days, sometimes to just sit on the couch and say nothing.

  “When was the last time you spoke with her?”

  From the bored manner of the officer’s questioning, she could guess how much attention the cops were going to pay her. As soon as she mentioned the depression, they would just roll their eyes and tell her to wait.

  “Yesterday afternoon. Maybe five o’ clock?”

  “She’s been missing, what?” The officer glanced at his watch. “Sixteen hours? You sure she isn’t sleeping late?”

  “No.” Okay, that was a lie. Wendy could be sleeping in late somewhere, just not at her house. Maybe a hotel or a spa somewhere? But she’d have at least let Bliss know.

  “Ma’am, you can fill out a report, but chances are she’ll show up later today.” He gestured to the line of people behind her. “Forms are on the right.”

  “But...she’s missing. She’s not well. What if something happened to her? Maybe you’ve seen her? My height, but skinny, blonde, brown eyes. Come on.”

  “Fill out the paperwork, and someone will look into it. Next.” He gestured to a man and woman behind her. They shouldered past, and all Bliss could do was stare at them.

  Was this happening? Her sister was missing. And no one cared.

  Wendy was the fragile one. Their parents coddled her, and Bliss became her protector through school. She even transferred colleges to make sure Wendy had someone in her life she could lean on. It was a relief when Grayson fell madly in love with Wendy because it meant she’d never want for anything in her life. She was completely taken care of, thanks to Grayson’s lucrative career designing buildings. But since the baby, Wendy was even more delicate than usual. If Bliss didn’t find her soon, oh God, she couldn’t live with herself. What would she tell Grayson when he came home? At least baby Paul was with his grandparents for a few days.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” A big, hulking man loomed over her. She took a step back instinctively. Something about him telegraphed danger in big, bold letters. He held out a slick white business card.

  She glanced at the card. Aegis Group was printed on it in a neat type, no nonsense, no logo. Thick cardstock, with that fancy grain that spoke of understated money. These weren’t bargain business cards some scam artists got off the Internet. It was the nice stuff only those who dealt with rich people used.

  Her gaze traveled up the arm to his face. His short-cropped brown hair was slightly bleached, as if he spent a lot of time outside. Dark aviators hid half his face, but what she could see was his strong, angular jaw. If he were selling a product, it would be something dangerous and manly. Not guns though, he was someone who liked to use his hands. A knife, maybe something more covert.

  “Can I see that picture?” He gestured to the photo she held clutched in her hand.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “My name is Travis. I work with a private security company. I want to see if I can help. What’s your name?”

  Was this a scam? Grayson had a lot of money. What if someone picked up Wendy with the intent to ransom her back?

  “Officer?” She raised her voice and side-stepped the man.

  The officer sighed audibly and glanced at her, then the hulking brute.

  “Who is he?” she asked.

  “Some PI.” The officer shrugged.

  Great. Lot of good the cops were going to do her today.

  “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” Bliss was running out of options. She didn’t have the kind of resources Grayson did, but if she had to hire a private investigator, well, she wanted someone scary on their side, and this guy fit the bill. Hadn’t he said his name? Travis?

  He turned the business card over.

  “Call this number. Ask them to verify for you who I am. What I do.”

  She took the card and studied the numbers. It was out of state. Illinois?

  “Long way from home?” She dug in her purse for her phone.

  “I’m here looking into a case.”

  “Why do you want to help me then?”

  “The man I’m looking for abducts pretty blonde women born and raised in Las Vegas.” She couldn’t see his eyes, but the way he tipped his chin, she could feel his gaz
e travel the length of her body. “If your sister is anything like you, she fits the victimology.”

  “We’re nothing alike, that’s just it.”

  “I don’t mean in looks.” He leaned toward her, staring deep into her eyes. It was an intense sensation to be the focus of this man. “It’s in the eyes. I can’t explain it.”

  Bliss stared at him.

  Their parents relocated to Vegas after her birth. Wendy was born in Vegas. They hadn’t lived anywhere else. One of Wendy’s problems, if they could be called that, was that she drew too much male attention. She was stunning, with a model’s body and the sweetest disposition. People always said she had the most beautiful eyes.

  “Keep talking,” she said.

  “The picture?” He held out his hand.

  Bliss shoved the snapshot of them at him. It was from just before Wendy had given birth. She’d been tired, but happy.

  Travis stared at it for several moments.

  “What happens to the women?” she asked. Her mind could fill in the blanks, but she wanted to hear him say it. This couldn’t be real. This kind of thing didn’t happen in real life.

  “Want to grab a seat? Maybe some coffee?”

  “What happens to the women?”

  He stared down at her, and the muscle on the left side of his jaw twitched.

  “You should sit before I answer that question.”

  “Fine. Where?”

  “I saw a café down the street.”

  “Lead on.” She gestured the way she’d come. For some reason she didn’t want Travis at her back. He gave her the shivers, but not in a creepy kind of way.

  He nodded and strode back to the entry, pausing to hold the door open for her. She stepped out into the sunshine and shivered. Despite the clear blue sky, the breeze was unseasonably chilly. She shoved her hands in her pockets and gripped her phone with one hand, the business card with the other.

  How crazy was this?

  They were supposed to be planning Christmas...not this.

  Her phone vibrated against her palm. She glanced at the screen and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “Shit. It’s Grayson—uh, her husband. What do I tell him?” The same panic she’d been fighting all morning wrapped around her throat, making it hard to breath. She glanced up at Travis and she had her anchor.

  “The truth,” he said.

  Bliss squeezed her eyes shut and answered the phone.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Morning. Sorry for calling so late. Things got out of hand this morning. My morning. Your night. How is she?” From the ambient sounds and echoing footsteps, Bliss was willing to bet her brother-in-law was doing some sort of site walkthrough.

  “I’ve got some bad news.” She stared at Travis, who gave her a nod.

  “What is it?”

  “Wendy...is....she’s...Oh, God, Grayson...” She nearly collapsed right there on the sidewalk. Travis caught her around the shoulders while she sobbed and guided her to a bench. He perched next to her, one arm slung around her in a protective embrace.

  “Give it to me,” he whispered.

  “Hold on.” She thrust the phone into his hand and covered her face, leaning against him.

  “Grayson, my name is Travis Ration, I work for the Aegis Group, a—” He paused and glanced away. “Well, at least we don’t have to do that. Sir, I’m sorry to tell you like this, but your wife appears to have gone missing...Last night. I met Bliss at the PD a few minutes ago, looking into a case I think might be involved...That won’t be necessary...That would work...Here she is.” Travis thrust the phone into her hands. “I’ll be right over there.”

  He got up, and she missed his warmth and protective presence immediately. She watched him walk away, hands in his pockets, head swinging side to side, as if he were already on the lookout.

  “Bliss?”

  “Hey, sorry, it’s me.”

  “Is he...is he serious?”

  “Dead serious.” She cringed at her poor word choice.

  “I’m catching the next plane home. It’ll take me at least sixteen hours from London. We’re going to retain Aegis Group to find her. I don’t care what it costs.” He didn’t skip a beat. There wasn’t any shock or dismay, no denial, he just...hired Travis, a complete stranger, to do it.

  “Is that...smart?” She turned and pitched her voice lower. “Who is this guy?”

  “I don’t know who he is, but Aegis is the best. Worth every penny.”

  What the hell kind of job was he doing that was that dangerous? Didn’t Grayson build offices or something?

  “I’m going to lose you. I’ll call back in a bit. I want to know everything.”

  She hung up the phone and leaned forward, planting her elbows on her knees. They were supposed to be shopping today for presents. Bliss had even planned to coordinate with Priscilla to make sure the house got decorated and presents wrapped so Wendy didn’t feel the crush of organizing it herself.

  What if she never saw her sister again?

  WENDY SAT WITH HER back to the wall of the cave. Metal bars blocked her path out of the cave or farther back into the rocks. It wasn’t wide, maybe ten or twelve feet across. The bottom was smoothed out. A few rugs and pieces of furniture took up the rest of the space. It was a far cry from the Vegas mansion her husband built for them following their wedding, but at least there was no draft. There was also no light unless Daniel came back.

  Her husband.

  She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. The darkness spun around her, and she pitched sideways, landing on the soft, inviting bed.

  Wendy scrambled to her feet and backed toward the cave entrance. She couldn’t touch the furniture. For a brief period of time when the lights overhead had illuminated her prison, and she did her best to take stock of what was there. That was when she found them. Three pairs of women’s panties stashed under the mattress. All different sizes.

  Grayson was her husband, not this crazy psycho. Grayson, who she loved. They had a baby together. Paul.

  Oh, Paul.

  Her heart clenched and in that moment, she’d have given anything to hold her baby. Anything at all. She never wanted something so bad before, and now it might be too late. Her previous baby boy.

  “Hey. Hey.”

  She pressed her hands over her ears, willing the voices to go away. She couldn’t handle them. Their smell. She couldn’t even deal with being there.

  “Where did Linda go?”

  “He killed her.”

  “Are you sure? She said, but Linda said there were others before us. I mean, I just thought he kept the women a long time.”

  “What do you think?”

  “Is she Linda now?”

  Wendy squeezed her eyes shut. The three men were in smaller cells behind hers, which meant that in order for Daniel to get to them, he had to go through hers. She could smell the men, or maybe it was their bandages. Was that her fate? What was going to happen to her? Would he chop off parts of her like he’d done to them?

  She didn’t dare attempt an escape, not when he’d kill her baby.

  TRAVIS WAS FAR TOO big to fit in the only unoccupied booth in the café. He didn’t dare suggest somewhere farther from the PD for fear the woman across from him might faint or cry or something. She’d seemed on the brink of falling apart outside, but she’d rallied and followed him to the café without so much as a tear.

  “Here’s your coffee. Can I get you anything else?” The waitress deposited a carafe on the table along with cream and sugar.

  “No, thank you,” he replied.

  The woman across from him shook her head. Her shoulder length brown hair swished around her face, all glossy looking. For some crazy reason he wanted to touch it. To run his fingers through her pretty hair and see if it felt as soft as it looked. He kept his hands to himself. Girls like her didn’t need men like him in their lives.

  “Bliss, right?”

  She nodded her head, sending those strands moving ag
ain.

  “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself did I? I’m Bliss Giles.” She cupped the empty ceramic mug with both hands.

  He picked up the carafe and poured her some coffee first, then himself. This wasn’t his thing. He didn’t deal with clients, he wasn’t the person to offer comfort or hope. His history hadn’t wired him that way, but for her he’d try.

  “Tell me about the last time you saw your sister. Do you mind if I take notes?”

  “You said you’d tell me what happened to the other women.” Her dark brown eyes focused on him. She was no longer on the verge of tears or lost in thought. He kind of liked being the center of her focus.

  “You don’t want to know that.”

  “Yes, I do. And I want to know why you think my sister might be one of them.” She tapped the photograph of Wendy he’d laid on the table.

  The two sisters couldn’t be more different. At least on the surface level.

  Wendy was petite, blonde, and almost breakable looking. Bliss was shapely, luscious, and that dark hair set off her pale, perfect skin. The one thing the sisters shared was their dark brown, almost black eyes. He’d heard someone call eyes that dark soulless eyes, but looking at Bliss, that sentiment couldn’t be further from the truth. It was the intangible quality the camera captured that he’d seen in the other victim’s photographs pre-death. A light. An inner brightness. This killer snuffed out truly bright flames, and for what?

  He was going to find out.

  “Tell me.” She leaned closer.

  He’d have to give her the Cliff notes version. What would he tell his sister?

  No, that was a bad gauge. His sister kept a living collection of TBK documents and coverage. He’d likely tell her everything, because they’d lived through worse.

  “Over the last seven years nine Las Vegas women, all blonde, have gone missing. They turn up between a couple months to a year after they were abducted. Dead. About twenty-four hours after the time of death, another girl is taken.”

  “What aren’t you telling me? I could find that out for myself.”

  “Some things you don’t want to know.”

  “I have a right to know. That’s my sister.”

  “Then tell me about the last time you saw her. Let me find her.”