Shades of Temptation

by Virna DePaul

  He thought it was fitting that the foster father he hadn’t seen in years would be the one to complete his transformation. He shivered with impatience, liking the fact that the police would be going from him to his next victim all in less than twenty-four hours.

  Anticipation filled Brad, and he struggled to control his impatience. He knew he should wait until the police thought they’d found their killer. That was the plan. He’d planted the evidence. All he had to do was call the station and tell them where to find it. Once they did, he’d be free. Free to pursue Nora and share his life with her.

  It had only been an hour since the police had left, but the longer he looked at Nora, the more excited he became. He’d waited so long to be with her, and now that his scars were gone, now that Tony was gone, there was nothing keeping them apart.

  What harm would it do? To talk to her now? To declare his love, so she wouldn’t feel so alone.

  There were only a couple of stray customers left in the café. Walking up to Nora, he saw the ravages of grief on her face. Her face was splotchy, her eyes red and glazed with moisture. When he said hello, she stared at him in confusion, as if she didn’t even recognize him.

  Still, he maintained his confidence. He sat down next to her and took her hands in his. He marveled at the opportunity to finally touch her. “What happened?” he asked softly.

  She said nothing and he leaned closer.

  “What is it, Nora?”

  “Tony…Tony is dead.” Her mouth quivered at the last word.

  Brad feigned shock. “The boy you study with? Oh, my God. How horrible! What happened?”

  She shook her head. “Murdered. They said he was murdered. By some psychopath.”

  Brad held back his snarl of anger. Of course the police would call him a psychopath. They had to account for their incompetence somehow.

  “They gave me their cards…the card of a shrink they work with....” Nora motioned to the cards that she’d placed on the table. “Said I should call them if I think of anything…” Her face collapsed again, and she began crying quietly. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’s gone. He was so…beautiful. Such a beautiful person.”

  He thought of the last time he’d seen Tony. How he’d cried and whimpered as he’d sliced him up. The terror had indeed been beautiful. He squeezed Nora’s hand. “You’re so much more beautiful than him, Nora. I’ve always thought so. I’ll make you forget him.”

  Nora stared at him uncomprehendingly. Then she flushed and pulled her hands back. Stiffness transformed her features, and she stood, stuffing books into her backpack with violence.

  “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I love you. I’ll never hurt you the way he did....”

  Nora stopped and looked at him with confusion. “Hurt me? Tony never hurt me! He was perfect. A wonderful person.”

  Jealousy overwhelmed him. “Perfect?” He scowled. “You think so? Is that why he laughed at you behind your back? I’d never do that. I appreciate who you are. I’ve been waiting for you. Watching you.”

  Nora paled, and he felt ashamed of himself for lashing out at her. He reached out for her hand, but she flinched away as if he’d slapped her.

  “You’ve been watching me? What—what does that mean? What do you mean Tony laughed at me behind my back? Why are you saying that?”

  “It’s true. He thought you were a joke. He didn’t love you the way I do.”

  Nora’s eyes bulged. “Love me? You’re crazy!”

  Brad stared at her and clenched his fists. “Don’t call me crazy.” Shaking his head, he reached out a hand to her, trying to ignore the fact it trembled. “I’m not crazy. I love you—”

  “Don’t touch me!” She flinched away, grabbed her things then spied the business cards on the table. She picked them up and threw one at him. “Here. You need this a lot more than I do. Get some help!”

  Nora ran away, and that’s when he noticed the stunned silence in the café. All of the remaining customers looked at him with varying degrees of shock and amusement. Brad flushed at their stares, mortification overwhelming him. He touched his face, feeling the skin that suddenly felt rough. Distorted.

  Bending over, he picked up the card Nora had thrown at him. Once he straightened, he backed up, stumbling over a table and chair. Rushing to the restroom, he slammed the door and locked it. His heart threatened to pound out of his chest, and he looked in the mirror fearfully.

  It was faint, barely visible, but he could see it. The once smooth skin had started to ripple. His complexion was no longer pure.

  Pain filled him at Nora’s rejection.

  How could she reject him after all he’d done for her? For a moment, he imagined punishing her. Stripping her naked and torturing her. Telling her how he’d tortured Tony and how it was all her fault.

  He whimpered. No. He loved her. She was his angel. It was Tony’s fault. Tony must have seduced her. Turned her against him.

  Someone knocked on the door, the sound jolting through him and making him flinch in fear. Had the police returned?

  More knocking. “Come on. I’ve gotta use the can, man!”

  Tony turned on the water and splashed some on his face. He opened the door, kept his gaze down and walked out. He sensed the young man waiting to use the restroom looking at him before he shut the door behind him.

  He tried to ignore the people in the café, but he sensed the snickers and stares directed toward him. They were mocking him again. Just like before.

  As he passed the table where Nora had sat, he noticed the card that she’d thrown at him. He bent down and picked it up.

  It was a card.

  A card for a Dr. Lana Hudson.

  The shrink Nora had mentioned.

  Calmness descended upon him like a hazy cloak.

  He smiled.

  He understood now. He’d thought Tony was the final victim. The one who would complete him. Obviously he’d been wrong. His transformation wasn’t complete yet.

  He remembered the way the cops had shaken his confidence. He’d shown weakness, however brief. No wonder Nora had turned from him. Females gravitated to the strongest male because they wanted to be protected. She must have sensed his weakness and run from it.

  He needed to reassert his power. And quickly.

  He rubbed his cheek again. It was still there, under the surface. He wouldn’t allow it to come back. Not the scar. Not the fear. Not the powerlessness.

  He caressed the card he held. He’d go ahead with his plans. Send the police on the hunt for his foster father. And while they were doing that, when they thought they’d won, he’d hunt down one of their own.

  Then he’d be back for Nora. One way or another, she’d realize she was his.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  AFTER MEETING WITH Nora Lopez and doing a bit more investigative work at the college, Carrie and Jase reported what they’d gathered to Commander Stevens. Subsequently, Carrie took a detour to Lana’s office. She’d wanted to discuss their theory about Darwin being scarred, but Lana wasn’t there. She was heading back to SIG to meet Jase when Carrie caught sight of a familiar face. Bo Havens, her friend from the SFPD SWAT team.

  “Well, look at you, girl. How are you doing?” Bo gave her a hug. “You should stop by McGill’s and say hello to the boys tonight. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

  Carrie smiled. She really liked Bo and almost all the other men on her former SWAT team. But she felt drained by the events of the past few days. By witnessing the incredible grief on Nora Lopez’s face when she’d learned that her friend Tony Higgs had died.

  She shook her head. “No. I won’t be able to make it. But you have a great time. Tell everyone I said hi.”

  “Even Pete?” Bo smirked.

  Carrie’s stomach contracted at the mention of the SWAT sniper’s name, but she simply smiled wider. “Even Pete.”

  Bo winked at her and waved. Carrie turned the corner, then came to an abrupt stop when she saw Jase. The affection
she’d felt for Bo was suddenly replaced by something more intense. More primitive. More alive.

  She didn’t know why, but each time she saw Jase, she felt her heart expand just a bit more, until it was in her throat.

  He sat slouched in his chair, his hands shoved into his pockets and staring up at the ceiling. He looked up when she walked up next to him.

  “Hey, Ward. Did I hear you talking to someone?”

  “Someone from my old SWAT team,” she confirmed. “Both of them, actually. He was with the Austin SWAT team with me, too, and we both ended up working for SFPD. Bo Haven. A good guy. He was inviting me to stop by and see the team at McGill’s and I…” With the name of the bar echoing in her head, Carrie suddenly thought of Brad Turner, the young man who’d worked at the college café. The one who looked a lot like the bartender at McGill’s. Was it possible that she’d seen him there, too? And if she had, could that mean anything, especially since Kelly Sorenson had been at McGill’s just before she’d been killed?

  “What is it?” Jase asked.

  Carrie automatically shook her head, not wanting to give her thoughts too much credence before she could actually confirm what they meant. “The guy at the college café earlier today. His name’s Brad Turner. I thought I recognized him. I suddenly wondered if it could be because I saw him at McGill’s. I mean…he looks a lot like the bartender, Lance Reynolds. But he knew Tony Higgs. Maybe he knew Kelly Sorenson, too? Her picture seemed to ring a bell with him but maybe there’s more to it.”

  “That would certainly be a relevant connection. But you can’t be sure you’ve seen him there?”

  She shook her head. “Still, I want to go to McGill’s and check it out.”

  “I’ll meet you there. I’ll swing by the café first. See if I can talk to him.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Jase.”

  Less than thirty minutes later, Carrie stepped into McGill’s. She was immediately greeted by several people, including some of the guys from SWAT.

  After making brief small talk, Carrie headed straight to an older woman tending the bar. “Hi, I’m Special Agent Carrie Ward. I’m looking for someone I’ve seen here before. Tall. Blondish hair. Dimples. Sound familiar?”

  “Sounds like a dozen kids I see in here every night. It even sounds like a bartender that works here.”

  “Right. Lance Reynolds.” She was right. Both Brad and Lance had similar looks to a few guys at the bar right now. So maybe she hadn’t seen Brad Turner here. Maybe she’d only thought she had.

  “You know Lance?” the female bartender asked her.

  “We’ve talked. But I’m looking for someone else. I’ll probably come back tomorrow with a photo, just to make sure you haven’t seen him before, okay?”

  “Sure, hon. Whatever you say.”

  “Thanks.” She turned and caught sight of a glass bowl sitting on the bar. It was filled with business cards that would be entered into a drawing for a free this or a free that. It was a common marketing tool, one she’d seen at many delis and restaurants. Even cafés.

  She turned to the female bartender. “Do you mind if I look through those business cards?”

  “Help yourself,” she said before turning to fill an order.

  Carrie walked to the bowl and rifled through it. Then she dumped the whole thing out onto the bar before sorting through the cards. One—a green one—caught her attention, and she swore. She picked up another one. And then another. Three of Kelly Sorenson’s business cards. Not the purple one she’d given Jase, but the kind that DeMarco had gotten from Lance Reynolds.

  The minute she saw Jase walk into McGill’s, Carrie moved toward him. She handed him one of the green cards she’d found.

  He read it and frowned. “Kelly Sorenson. Her business card.”

  “Yes. The same kind Susan Ingram gave us. There’s two more of them in the bowl by the bar.”

  “So?”

  “So anyone could have seen her drop her card in there and taken it. Or jotted down her contact information and given her a call. Maybe that’s why we can’t verify she left with anyone in particular that night. Maybe she didn’t leave with someone per se, but maybe someone called her after she left. And told her he got her card from McGill’s. That’s what Susan Ingram said. That Kelly met a client from McGill’s. Not that she actually left McGill’s with one.”

  “Okay. So it’s a distinction. But what does it mean?”

  “It means maybe no one saw her leave with someone from McGill’s, but she still met up with someone from McGill’s. Someone that was here that night. Someone I saw.”

  “Someone, meaning the guy from the café?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. But we need to push for those records from Kelly’s cell-phone company.”

  “I swung by Steam, but the place was shut down.”

  “Damn. And I haven’t had any luck verifying whether Brad Turner’s been here, not without a photo. But we can rectify that tomorrow. Maybe even see if Steam has a bowl filled with business cards, too.”

  “Right. If Sorenson dumped her cards here, why not there, too? And if she did, why not Tammy Ryan? Maybe we can connect Darwin’s vics that way. But until then…it’s late. What now?”

  What now? Now she wanted to take some aspirin. Her head was beginning to pound and she suddenly remembered Stevens’s orders to get some rest before she broke. It was now sounding like very sound advice. “Should we head home?” she asked Jase, noting that he looked pretty shot, too.

  Then she realized what she’d said.

  Home. As if they had a common home to go to. Except for the one night they’d spent together at her place, she’d been sleeping at his place. Even after they’d discovered Ryan, even though her house was habitable once more, she’d crashed on his sofa. She’d left her stuff at his house. His. Not hers. Never hers.

  “Our respective homes, I meant,” she clarified, trying to hide her embarrassment, as well as her disappointment. She didn’t want to go back to her place. Not without Jase.

  “I know what you meant,” he said quietly. “Listen, I know your house is fine now, but how about—”

  “Hey, Carrie! You decided to join us. Awesome.”

  Carrie stared at Jase, willing him to complete the offer he’d been about to make. But he didn’t, leaving her with no choice but to turn toward the man who’d called out to her. “Hi, Bo. This is Special Agent Jase Tyler. Jase, this is Bo Haven.”

  “Hi, Bo. Carrie thinks highly of you.”

  “Wish I could say the same, Tyler, but I haven’t heard of you.”

  Jase just grinned. “Doesn’t surprise me a bit. Carrie tends to be closemouthed about what’s really important to her.”

  Bo laughed and Carrie blushed. “We were just about to leave,” Carrie said.

  “Come on over and say hello to the rest of the guys first.”

  “I don’t know, Bo. We’re both tired.”

  “Too tired to say a quick hello? Come on, girl. You’re not on the team anymore, but we’re still friends, aren’t we?”

  She looked at Jase. “You can go ahead—”

  “No. I’d like to meet your old team.”

  The way he said that had her frowning, but it was too late. Bo led them to a table in the back.

  * * *

  AS JASE WATCHED, the group of men greeted Carrie warmly.

  She, in turn, seemed to take genuine pleasure in seeing them all. Jase remembered what she’d said about feeling more like a team member on SWAT than she did on SIG. But he also remembered what she’d said about SWAT not being fully ready for a female member. He saw no sign of that here and wondered what she’d meant. Hoping to get some insight into her past, he decided to stay awhile. “I’m going to get us a drink. Beer?” he asked her.

  She frowned slightly, then nodded her head. “Sure. A Bud Light, please.”

  * * *

  JASE WINCED AND THE GUYS groaned at her wimpy choice in alcohol. She shrugged her shoulders. She could barely stomach the taste of beer a
nyway, but she’d learned to adjust while she was hanging out with guys. And since that’s pretty much the only gender she spent time with…

  As Jase walked away, Carrie followed him with her gaze until he got to the bar. There, an extremely short and feminine-looking waif of a woman with long blond hair and lots of cleavage started talking to him. Jase smiled, and the sight made Carrie both happy and sad. He looked good, when he smiled. He always looked good and that was something that women would forever be drawn to. Jase would never lack for female company. As soon as they caught Darwin, he’d remember why he’d dated so many of them before getting involved with Carrie.

  Rich Andrews spoke up. “Good-looking guy, Carrie.”

  Carrie couldn’t help it. She laughed at his exaggerated drawl. Andrews was gay, but the only people who knew that were sitting at the table with him.

  Luke French and Bo groaned again, and Bo hit Andrews in the arm. “Shit, man. Cut that crap. You need to get your gaydar fixed. There’s no way that guy’s gay.”

  “So?” Andrews laughed, shrugging. “I can still enjoy the view. Besides, no one would think I’m gay, either, dude. Gaydar is a myth.” He had something there. Andrews looked about as alpha-male as one could get without scaring little children on sight.

  Bo turned to her. “Heard you closed a big case. Good for you, gal. A serial killer, huh? Man, you’ve got balls.”

  She winced inwardly. Cojones. Courage. She remembered what Mansfield had said to Jase at the Sorenson crime scene. Something about her being made of steel. If only they knew. She just shrugged. “Someone has to work them. Why not me? What have you heard about it? Anything about the guy’s M.O.?”

  Something bumped her in the shoulder, and she turned to find Jase standing behind her with a couple of beers, noting that he’d chosen a dark pilsner for himself. She took her light beer and sat in one of the vacant seats. Jase joined her.

  “Nope,” Bo said. “I figured you guys were keeping that on the down-low for a reason.”