Secret Obsession

by Robin Perini

  “Can I tell you later?” he asked quietly.

  “I won’t wait forever,” she said softly, pushing up so she could see his face. “Let me start. I didn’t do this because I feel guilty, even though I do. I didn’t make love with you to take your mind off your troubles. And last—” she leaned closer, nipping at his ear “—I know you’re not Jack.”

  Noah stiffened beneath her. She’d touched on the real problem. It had been a long time since she’d thought of Noah as anything like Jack. She’d loved Jack, loved him deeply. She’d never forget him, but her heart stuttered when Noah spoke. It had almost killed her when she realized Archimedes had hurt his family. She would have felt guilt, no matter what, but it was as if Noah’s pain had crept into her soul.

  She still couldn’t believe he hadn’t just pushed her aside.

  He brought his hands to her arms and she knew he was about to move her away. She gripped his waist between her legs, bracing her hands against his chest.

  “Are you trying to trap me?” he asked, raising a brow.

  “I’m not letting you get away until you believe me.”

  “We’ve been together nonstop for days. The situation is intense,” Noah added. “It’s natural we would turn to each other, lean on each other.”

  “Don’t even say it,” Lyssa whispered.

  “Why now?” Noah asked.

  “Because for the first time since this started, you needed me,” she said simply.

  Noah’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. Lyssa groaned and reached across him to pick it up. She handed him the phone.

  “Bradford.”

  “You know those feet we found?” Zane said, his voice loud enough for her to hear. “I have the body. And there’s something you need to see.”

  * * *

  THE UNITED NATIONS building loomed closer, flashing lights of emergency vehicles blocking the street. The cab slowed to a stop. Lyssa stepped out of the vehicle. He hadn’t wanted to risk Archimedes identifying their car. They’d left it in a parking garage on the edge of the city.

  Noah paid the driver and stepped onto the street, shrugging into Rafe’s persona even deeper. Yes, he wore the eye patch and beard, but even the way he stood and walked reminded her of the former Green Beret. Dangerous.

  “Slow and easy,” he said to her, keeping his distance. He was Rafe Vargas not Noah Bradford. He would treat her as such.

  She tried not to take it personally. She wanted to hold on to him, feel his strength and his warm touch.

  Instead, she shoved her hands into her pockets. With the security at the UN, she couldn’t carry her gun. She hated feeling so vulnerable.

  They walked past the police cars and toward the front entrance. She sent him a sidelong glance.

  She didn’t know how he felt. He’d shut down after the phone call. Once again, pushing her away. His eerie ability to transform himself into another man gave him the tools to become the Falcon. It was the mask he wore. She didn’t know if she’d ever penetrate the crack in his emotions again. For a brief moment she’d seen beyond the Falcon, beyond the computer genius. Beyond the man who was determined to save her life.

  An hour ago he’d held her as if he never wanted to let her go. She couldn’t remember feeling more needed or desired.

  Now he was an acquaintance. He was a man who she’d hired to help her. She’d believed she found the real Noah, but could she ever be sure?

  Tension pulsed from his body as he escorted her to the entrance. Yellow crime-scene tape draped near a door just inside.

  Two guards stepped in their path. “Move along.”

  “We have business—” Noah began.

  “They’re with me.” Zane motioned them in.

  The guards stepped aside.

  “Ransom pulled some strings,” Zane said quietly. “Otherwise, I’d be sitting in jail right now lawyering up.”

  “Good thing we have friends with even more powerful friends,” Noah said.

  His words barely registered. Lyssa hadn’t been in the lobby of the building for two years. Very little had changed. “He wants to destroy everything about my past, doesn’t he?”

  She’d imagined herself doing important work in this building. No matter what happened, she’d never come back here.

  Zane led them over to a closet. “Can you give us a minute?” he asked a pair of investigators. “She might be able to identify him.”

  They stepped aside.

  “Brace yourself. It’s not pretty,” Zane warned.

  Lyssa stepped closer and peered into the small room.

  The gruesome remainder of a man’s body sat propped up inside, positioned as if staring straight ahead. Her eyes dropped to the symbols carved into his chest.

  “Infinity,” she whispered.

  “Plus another symbol,” Zane said.

  A shape similar to a cursive p had been carved just below the man’s naval. Lyssa’s mind wouldn’t stop whirling. She knew the symbol. What was Archimedes trying to tell her?

  “I recognize it. Why can’t I think?”

  She knelt down, forcing herself to study the carving. It wasn’t a perfect p. No, there were too many curves. It wasn’t a rho either. More like a wonky p with a tail. More like...

  Her thoughts went back to her last job at the UN.

  “It’s Sanskrit,” she said, her voice harsh.

  Zane stared down. “I’ll be damned.”

  “The number nine.”

  “Numbers,” Noah said. “Could the other symbols have meanings in other languages?”

  “I think so. The epsilon could be Arabic for the number four.”

  She clutched Noah’s arm. He glanced at her then she dropped her hand. She couldn’t pretend they knew one another. Archimedes was probably watching.

  “We’re getting closer,” Noah said. “Do you recognize him?”

  “He looks familiar.” She tried to avoid looking at his legs, but the gruesome sight of his missing feet drew her gaze. “Why?”

  “He wants to make sure you’re too afraid to deny him,” Noah’s hand drifted down her back, the small movement comforting, and invisible to anyone watching. “Can you remember where you met him?”

  She studied his features. His face, the indentation in his chin, his hair.

  His hair. The man’s reddish-blond beard stabbed at Lyssa’s memory. “Did he have any identification?”

  Zane shook his head. “Nothing. They’re running his prints. We should know something soon if he’s ever worked in government, was in the military or had a record.”

  She studied the man’s face more closely. His eyes were open, staring into space; his mouth was twisted in pain. “I know him. I’m certain of it.”

  Her gaze fell to the carnation on the collar of his shirt. “What about the flower?”

  “Weird, huh,” Zane said. “It was there when I got here.”

  “It’s a carnation. A boutonniere. Oh, God.” Lyssa couldn’t believe it. “I know who he is.”

  Noah shot her a sharp glance.

  “It’s Bill Zeigler. He was my date. To my senior prom.”

  * * *

  THE JUSTICE DEPARTMENT didn’t go for cheap office furniture. Archimedes leaned back in U.S. Marshal Reid Nichols’s executive leather chair.

  The solid wood desk hadn’t been a challenge, and right now Archimedes couldn’t stop smiling. He replayed the airport-surveillance tape.

  Noah Bradford had a distinctive walk, a slight hitch from an apparent injury to his left leg. Archimedes’s nemesis had left New York and returned to Denver. He’d seen the man board the plane, and a quick hack into the reservations system had verified the ticket.

  Alessandra belonged to Archimedes now. She would finally be his. Once Alessandra came to hi
m, she would never run from him again.

  As of thirty minutes ago, he knew exactly how to control her.

  Reid Nichols’s computer monitor blinked at him. He grinned again. He had everything he needed.

  “Did you find something?” Rose’s eyes were wide with hope. “Could you get at the files?”

  “Oh, yes, my dear. I have exactly what I need now. Thank you.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t.” He sighed, memorized an address then turned off the computer. “You really shouldn’t be so trusting, Rose. It’s a flaw.”

  “But I love you. We’re going to be together. Of course I trust you.”

  “Rose, Rose, Rose.” Archimedes pulled a garrote from his pocket, his weapon of choice for those who talked too much—or not enough.

  She stared down at the metal in his hand, utterly confused. The poor dear.

  Then, as if she suddenly realized she should be very afraid, she stepped back.

  Archimedes smiled. “Didn’t you wonder why, after no one caring about you for the first thirty-five years of your life, I happened to sweep you into my arms? Didn’t it give you pause that a few weeks after we began dating and I came to your office, Alessandra Cummings was found?”

  Slowly, Rose shook her head. “No. You love me. I know you do.”

  “I don’t love anyone except Alessandra.” He could see the truth seeping into her limited brain. He stepped closer. “I do, however, enjoy a woman’s fear and watching the life drain from her eyes as I kill her.”

  Rose whirled around and grabbed the doorknob. He smiled at her struggle with the brass handle. Before she could undo the lock, he gripped her by the hair and shoved her up against the wall.

  “Please, don’t do this,” she whispered. “Please, Todd.”

  “Never say my name,” he rasped into her ear.

  “Todd, you don’t want to hurt me,” she whispered.

  “Yes, Rose, I do.”

  She tried to shove her knee against his groin, but she obviously had no idea how. He plunged a hypodermic into her skin. Within seconds she sagged against him, sliding down the wall. “Please. What did I do?”

  “You know me,” he said softly, looping the metal wire around her throat. “Surely by now, you know who I am.”

  He tightened the noose. Her eyes widened. She gasped. Her hands clutched at his coat.

  “Todd.” She choked, sucking in breaths. “Please.”

  “Beg me, Rose. Beg for your life.”

  Her grip loosened. “P-please.”

  “Say my name. The name the entire world fears.”

  “A...Archimedes.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Yes.” He tightened the wire. “Can you feel the ecstasy, Rose? Give me what I want, because you will die.”

  Terrified, her gaze darted around the room. A shiver of pleasure ran through him. “Yes, my dear. You’re dying now.”

  Thirty seconds more and the life faded from her eyes.

  He shuddered in satisfaction as the last glimmer vanished.

  “Thank you, Rose.”

  He pocketed the garrote, let her drop to the ground and without a backward glance walked out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Noah couldn’t get Lyssa out of the UN building fast enough. He bundled her into a cab before ordering the driver to take the long way back to the motel. Zane would have to charm the Crime Scene Unit then find his own way. They had some symbols to decipher.

  By the time they made it to the motel it was two in the morning. Noah paid off the taxi, watching the vehicle disappear into the night so he could be certain no one could connect them to the room number. After a quick scan of the door and room, Noah entered, finally motioning Lyssa inside. She couldn’t stop the shivering. He turned up the heat and pulled her against him, rubbing her arms and back to warm her up.

  He’d intended to get right to work, but she huddled against him, seeking warmth and something more.

  “How soon will Zane be here?” she asked, looking first at him then the unmade bed, her green eyes dark with longing.

  No way could Noah resist the invitation. He lowered his mouth to hers, wanting just a sweet taste. But her lips parted eagerly beneath his and a low rumble sounded from within his chest.

  Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer. Noah didn’t hesitate. He explored her mouth, needed to feel her. She was his dream. He backed her to the bed and she sank into the mattress. He followed her down, and she cradled his weight as if they were meant to be together.

  They fit.

  Lyssa arched against him, pulling him closer. He could lose himself so easily. He wanted the world to disappear, just for a while.

  As if the universe laughed at his hopes, Noah’s phone intruded once again. His body straining against hers, he kissed her one last time then sighed, taking a few calming deep breaths before pulling away. “Zane will be here soon. That was his text.”

  He shifted his hips off hers, propped himself on his arm and kissed her nose. “You’re dangerous to my equilibrium.”

  She stroked his arm, looking up at him. “I needed to know if what happened between us was real.”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s definitely real,” he said. “Too real.”

  He groaned and rolled out of bed. “But unless you want Zane to know exactly how we spent our evening, we should probably make the bed.”

  She stepped over the spread, her cheeks flaming. Within a few minutes they’d tucked the spread around the pillows and smoothed the wrinkles.

  “I better set up the computer,” he said, powering it on and setting up the secure internet. “You’re brilliant, you know. How many people would recognize written Sanskrit?”

  “If I were smarter, I’d have figured this out before poor Bill was killed.”

  “Come here,” he said, his voice husky, pulling her closer for another kiss. “Without you, we wouldn’t have a lead at all. Take the compliment.”

  A sharp knock sounded at the door. Noah left her standing by the computer, pulled out his Glock and answered the door.

  Zane walked in. He looked down at her then straight at Noah, his brow arched. With a hooded glance, Noah took in Lyssa’s appearance. She looked thoroughly kissed; there was no denying it. So much for keeping the relationship hidden.

  He cleared his throat. “Have a seat.”

  Zane popped the top on a can of soda and tugged his laptop from his bag without saying anything except with his eyes. Bad idea. She’s in danger; it could cause trouble. Noah’s head might agree. His heart didn’t give a damn.

  He pulled out a sheet of paper and scratched a spiral on it. “Let’s assume each symbol stands for a single number or letter. We think the fourth is a nine.”

  “Is the third just an E?” Zane asked.

  “I think Lyssa was right before. Let’s try four. Arabic.”

  “You really believe he went to the trouble of using different languages?” Zane asked.

  “Lyssa speaks several languages, she was a UN translator. In a twisted way it makes sense,” Noah said.

  “In a psycho’s head, I guess.”

  “Your point?” Noah asked.

  “The first symbol was on Chastity’s notepad. A spiral.”

  Zane tapped a few keys into Noah’s computer. She leaned forward and pointed to the screen. “There it is—the spiral looks just like the number three in Bengali.”

  “Damn,” Zane commented.

  “The second doesn’t look like modern writing. More like hieroglyphics or pictographs.”

  “But it resembles something I’ve seen in Belize,” Noah said. “Try Mayan.”

  Zane typed in a few keystrokes. “There we have it. A bar and three
dots. Eight.”

  “Three—eight—four—nine.” Lyssa mused. “What does it mean?”

  “The beginning of a phone number, an address? It could be almost anything,” Zane said, drumming his fingers on the laptop. “Even a code.”

  Lyssa stared at the sequence. “I don’t recognize it.” She let out a sigh. “Are we even on the right track? What if they are letters?”

  Zane’s secure phone rang. He pressed the speakerphone. “Westin.”

  “Is Noah with you?” Rafe asked. “I didn’t want to use his number since Archimedes used it.”

  “You’re on speaker.” Noah didn’t like the sound of his friend’s voice. He braced himself. “Sierra?”

  A frustrated sigh reached through from Denver. “Archimedes called. I have a web address. You need to see this.”

  Noah’s entire body stilled. “Send it.”

  Within seconds, Zane clicked on the link.

  A grainy image appeared.

  Noah went deathly still.

  Sierra lay in the floor of a small room, her hands and feet bound, her mouth duct taped. Her shirt was open and an infinity symbol had been carved near her breastbone. Her eyes were closed.

  “Is she—” Noah couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “She’s breathing. We can tell that much. She hasn’t opened her eyes, though.”

  “That son of a bitch,” Noah bit out. “Where is she?”

  “We don’t know.” Noah had never heard Rafe so edgy. “But I’m going to find her. I need to trace the signal. Your father tried but he ended up bouncing around Pakistan. I need Zane’s help.”

  “You got it,” Noah said. He clutched the phone in his hand. He turned to Zane. “Find my sister. Take away his leverage.”

  * * *

  NOAH PAID FOR a second motel room so Zane could process the video and audio through his high-tech equipment. Noah left his friend alone, muttering at the computer, earphones on and staring at the screen.

  He fought not to slam the door open to Lyssa’s motel room in frustration. Shoulders heavy with doubt, he sat on the bed. He should be in Denver, with his family. But if he left, Lyssa was dead.

  As if reading his mind, she sat beside him, reaching for his hand. “Rafe will find her. We have to believe that.”