THE BRIDGE

by Carol Ericson

  Elise’s heart jumped. “You’re not going to hurt him?”

  “What is it about all that dark brooding masculinity that drives women wild? I believe you’d die for him. Would you, Elise? Would you die for him?”

  “Shut up.”

  “You must get that level of maturity from your kindergartners, like that little Eli.”

  She whipped around on him. “What do you know about Eli?”

  “Enough.” He shoved her and she tripped. “Now get moving.”

  Her teeth began to chatter as the chill seeped into her bones. Just like that other night. Would she wind up in the bay again?

  He clicked his remote control device, which unlocked the security gate to the pedestrian walkway. He pushed it open and left it ajar.

  “Won’t the cyclists be suspicious about an open gate?”

  “Happens more than you think. Besides, I’m expecting company.”

  Again, her heart lurched in her chest just as her feet hit the pavement of the walkway. Would any cyclists be crossing at this time of morning? It had to be getting close to three o’clock. The walkway opened at five to pedestrians.

  But something told her they wouldn’t be here at five.

  “Stop.”

  She slowed her steps and grabbed a lamppost. “What are we doing?”

  “Waiting. Have you ever wondered how it would feel to jump, Elise? Four seconds. They say it takes four seconds to fall before you hit the water. That’s a long time to change your mind.”

  “People must be desperate, lonely.”

  “Or guilty.” His gun hand wavered. “I get lonely sometimes. Does it fascinate you, Elise? This bridge? It fascinates me. Always has, and I grew up here.”

  “It’s beautiful. Maybe that’s why they choose to have their last moments here.”

  He snorted. “You know nothing of depression or desperation. The last thing on your mind is beauty.”

  “Why don’t you just turn yourself in, Dan?”

  “You remember my name? Seems like you only had eyes for Brody.”

  “Of course I remember your name, Dan. C-Courtney liked you, too. She told me about her new client. She liked you.”

  “Courtney is beautiful.”

  “She would’ve helped you, Dan.”

  “She tried. She wanted to.”

  His aim had slipped, and she tensed her muscles. Could she tackle his legs?

  “Elise!”

  She jerked her head up to see Sean jogging toward them on the pedestrian path. How had he found them?

  The smile spreading across Jacoby’s face told that story.

  “Perfect.” Jacoby grabbed Elise’s arm and dragged her closer, the gun leveled at her head. “Stop where you are, Brody. This time I was telling the truth about the coordinates.”

  Sean’s chest heaved and every breath pained him. What did this psycho plan to do with Elise? “It’s over, Jacoby. When I saw your car in the parking lot, I called it in. How did you expect to get away with this?”

  “Does this spot look familiar to you, Brody? Do you know this spot on the bridge? Have you been here before?”

  “It’s where my father jumped. It’s where they found his things.”

  Elise sobbed, her face a pale oval in the mist.

  “Exactly. And now you’re going to do the same thing.”

  “No!” The fog swallowed Elise’s scream.

  “You’re going to murder the lovely Elise, and then the Alphabet Killer is going to jump, just like his father the Phone Book Killer did.”

  Sean ground his teeth. “My father was not a killer.”

  “That’s funny. My mother never believed he did it, either.”

  “What?”

  “We lived in the city then. It was the Phone Book Killer who got me interested in police work, in homicide. I always thought he did it, but my mother claimed nobody that handsome could be a killer.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “You Brodys live charmed lives.”

  “Yeah, really charmed.”

  He yanked Elise’s hair. “Do you want mine instead? My father was a petty thief and pimp, in and out of jail. Your father even arrested him once for domestic battery. How about that?”

  “You have a good life, Jacoby. You’re respected in your field.”

  “My field isn’t your field. I wanted to be a police officer. I wanted to be a homicide detective.” He shoved Elise against the guardrail. “I didn’t pass the background. Now, how is it I couldn’t pass the background with my father but you could with yours?”

  “Maybe it was your psych eval, Jacoby. How much do you think you can hide?”

  “How much can you?”

  “I never tried to hide anything. Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous of my wonderful career and life, so you went on a killing rampage.”

  Jacoby slapped Elise across the face, and Sean clenched his fists and took a step forward.

  “Not really, Brody. I just like hurting people. I guess I am like my old man, and you’re going to be just like yours.”

  “But I’m not.” Sean rolled up his sleeve. “Is that why you got the tattoo? You wanted to blame all the murders on me?”

  “Nice touch, wasn’t it? Of course, it was just a temporary one I got in Santa Cruz that washed right off.”

  “You’re dreaming, Jacoby. You can’t pull this off.”

  He rested the barrel of his gun against Elise’s temple. “You’re going to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, or I’ll shoot Elise in the head and dump her over. Then I’ll shoot you and dump your body over. Is that clear, Brody?”

  “If you do it that way, it’s going to spoil your little scenario.”

  “One way or the other, you’ll both be dead. Who knows? You might survive the jump. I hear you need to go in feet first at an angle. You’re even wearing heavy boots.”

  “Sean, don’t even think about it.”

  Jacoby smacked Elise’s other cheek and Sean almost went for him.

  “Or I can slice and dice Elise while you watch, leave her body on the bridge and then shoot you. I’ll figure it out, but it would be easier for you if you just jump. Now.”

  Sean took a step toward the guardrail. The wind lashed his face. He’d make the SOB kill him here, unless he could get the gun away from him...and off of Elise.

  “Sean, don’t.” Elise twisted away from Jacoby.

  Jacoby raised his weapon, but Elise scrambled on top of the guardrail, throwing one leg over.

  “Elise! What are you doing?”

  Jacoby crowed and trained his gun on Elise straddling the guardrail. “I knew she’d die for you.”

  “If I jump, it’s just you and him, Sean. And you’re a superstar cop. He’s just a guy who takes fingerprints.”

  And then she rolled over the edge.

  Sean bellowed and rushed Jacoby, who’d lowered his weapon in momentary shock. Sean drove his shoulder into Jacoby’s iron chest and twisted his arm back.

  The gun dropped from Jacoby’s hand and skittered across the cement. They both lunged for it, but Sean was taller with longer arms and reached it first. He tensed his body, waiting for Jacoby’s attack, but felt nothing but cool air.

  Gripping the gun, he rolled onto his back—just in time to see Jacoby go over the guardrail.

  Sean staggered to his feet, sobs building in his chest, taking his breath away. Why had Elise done that? Why had she sacrificed herself for him?

  “Sean!”

  His stomach dropped. “Elise?”

  “I’m down here, on the ledge.”

  Sean leaned over the guardrail. Elise was huddled on the two-foot-wide ledge. Warm relief poured through his body and he reached over the rail for her.

  “My God, what
did you do?”

  “I knew the ledge was here. When I rolled over, I grabbed for these pipes to hold myself up and pulled myself to the ledge.”

  “Jacoby?”

  “He went right over me. I hope he saw me before he started flying.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance.

  “Now they get here.” He extended his arms. “Hold on to me and I’ll pull you over.”

  He clasped her arms and pulled her up until she was folded over the guardrail. She rolled onto the ground from there.

  Sean sat down next to her because he didn’t think he could stand another minute. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. “You plunged me into the deepest darkness I’d ever known before.”

  “I knew it would distract him enough for you to get the upper hand.”

  “A bit drastic, but then you go for the dramatic.”

  “I didn’t see any other way.” She snuggled against his chest as the sirens drew closer.

  “You seem drawn to the bay, one way or another. Must be fate.”

  She placed her cold hands on each side of his face and pressed her lips against his. She whispered, “This is the only fate I want.”

  Epilogue

  The music grew frenzied and someone smashed a plate.

  Elise lightly scraped her fingernails across Sean’s tattoo. “You told someone to do that.”

  He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. “You jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge for me. I can arrange for a few broken plates. But I’ve got a question for you.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Did you ever sign up for one of those online dating services?”

  Her cheeks sported a pleasing pink. “No. Why would you think that?”

  “The two other women who were murdered had profiles on Lovelines.”

  Elise wrinkled her nose as she spread more tapenade on a cracker. “Not unless...”

  “Not unless what?”

  “Courtney was teasing me about being dateless one night and threatened to register me.” She put down her cracker and dropped her lashes. “Maybe she did it as a joke. It’s something Courtney would do.”

  He brushed his fingertip across her cheek. “I’m sorry, but it looks like Courtney may have steered Jacoby into your life before you brought him into hers.”

  “It doesn’t make it any better.”

  “I know. When you lose a friend, especially like that, the pain will come out of nowhere and strike you.”

  “And you know all about that.”

  “My pain has been fading a little more every day—because of you.”

  He cupped her face with one hand and nibbled on her earlobe.

  Two of the waiters approached them and dragged them onto the dance floor, where they joined half the restaurant in a Greek dance that nobody knew.

  Ten minutes later, laughing and breathless, they collapsed in their chairs. “Two months ago, you would’ve never seen me out there.”

  “If you hadn’t brought attention to yourself by all that PDA, they never would’ve singled you out. You’d better learn the ropes. Sometimes, you’re just asking for attention.”

  “And you know all about that, Runaway Bride. How’s Ty doing back home?”

  “He’s fine. He has an amazing story to tell all the ladies and a missing finger to prove it, so he’s lapping up all the attention.”

  Sean’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out.

  Elise touched his arm. “Everything okay?”

  He held the display out to her. “It’s my brother, Eric, the FBI agent. He was able to order some additional toxicology reports on Dr. Franklin, and he had a trace of some chemical in his bloodstream.”

  “Sean, that’s great—I think. Is it great? It might prove someone murdered Dr. Franklin and it might have something to do with your father’s case.”

  “Maybe it will, but my life isn’t on hold anymore. I’ll help Eric if he needs it, but right now I have some living to catch up on.”

  She grabbed his hands. “Great. Then let’s get started, because there’s something I’ve been wanting to do with you for a while now, and it’s only eight o’clock, so we still have time.”

  “Really?” He gave her his best wicked grin.

  “I want to take a walk with you on one of my favorite places in the city.”

  He tilted his head. “Let me guess—the bridge.”

  She nodded, her big blue eyes wide. “Are you in?”

  “Let’s go, but no jumping and no swimming in the bay.”

  “Got it.”

  Later, when they walked hand in hand across the bridge, the lights of the city twinkled in the mist and a boat skimmed beneath them.

  Whatever drove his father, Sean knew he had a different destiny—and the brave, fearless woman beside him would be a part of it every step of the way.

  * * * * *

  Carol Ericson’s BRODY LAW miniseries

  continues next month with THE DISTRICT.

  Look for it wherever Harlequin Intrigue books are sold!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from RELENTLESS by HelenKay Dimon.

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Intrigue story.

  You crave excitement! Harlequin Intrigue stories deal in serious romantic suspense, keeping you on the edge of your seat as resourceful, true-to-life women and strong, fearless men fight for survival.

  Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Intrigue every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Chapter One

  Jocelyn Raine walked under the wrought-iron archway and followed the path to her garden apartment. It was just after nine and the sun had disappeared behind the Annapolis, Maryland, horizon about a half hour ago. Lights inset in the pavers crisscrossed, highlighting the way as she turned right and jogged up the three steps to her front door.

  Her cell buzzed at the same time she reached for her keys. While juggling her small purse, she almost dropped the phone. It slipped out of one hand but she caught it in the other before it hit the hard concrete of the small porch.

  She swiped her finger over the screen. The promised check-in text from Ben Tanner greeted her. The guy had light brown hair in a short, almost military cut and the most compelling olive-green eyes she’d ever seen.

  She could describe the color exactly because she’d stared into them all night across the dinner table on their first date. Add in the linebacker shoulders and that scruffy thing happening around his chin, and no sane woman could brush him off without a second look.

  It all worked...except for the part where he carried a gun. She hated guns. She wasn’t a fan of violence and despised being scared. She hadn’t seen a horror movie since she was a teen. All of which explained why the guy had to ask six times before she finally agreed to go out with him tonight.

  Didn’t help that within the first two days of knowing Ben, she’d watched him run, shoot, dive, guard and wrestle a scary dude to the ground. All in the critical-care unit of the hospital where she worked, and all while sporting an injury. He’d been shot in the upper arm but that hadn’t stopped him from setting up next to a guy in a coma, insisting the unconscious man needed a guard.

  And that was why she had finally said yes to him. Something about the former NCIS special agent broke through her defenses. Just a few minutes ago he had insisted, in that respectful voice, that he walk her to the door. She had said no to avoid the awkward “to kiss or not to kiss” confusion,
though he was a temptation.

  She texted back that all was well and slipped her keys into the locks, first the dead bolt and then the standard one. A woman couldn’t be too careful. She’d learned that the hard way.

  Once inside, the three-inch pumps came off first. She sighed in relief when her feet hit the thick area rug. That would teach her to wear sexy shoes. Ben only saw them for a second anyway before she tucked them under the table, so she didn’t get the point.

  The light next to the couch bathed the open area in a soft glow. After resetting the lock and dumping everything but the cell on the table just inside the door, she headed for the family-room area to her right. Ben could text again, so why not be ready?

  She looked around for the remote. The television provided background noise, but she had to turn it on first. Ducking, she checked the floor, then the couch cushions. Spinning in a circle, she scanned the room. She always kept it in the basket on the center of her square coffee table. Her gaze went back to that spot, but it still wasn’t there.

  An odd chill moved across the back of her neck. She blamed the air conditioner she’d set lower than normal to battle the unusual June heat. But then her gaze came to rest on the magazines spread over the coffee table. She stacked them in a pile. Every day and always.

  Some people called her obsessive-compulsive, or OCD. She preferred the term overly neat. Either way, she put stuff in its place, and things were not the way she had left them two hours ago.

  All thoughts of her sexy date fled.

  The chill morphed into a warning itch. She’d been in this situation before and this time she didn’t ignore the alarm bells. With a quick look at her phone, she clicked on Ben’s name and waited for it to ring on his end. The reaction might be overblown but—

  She sensed movement. A change in the air in the room. Little things, almost imperceptible things. A heat—a presence—right behind her.

  She spun around as her hand dropped and something brushed against her cheek. A sweet smell hit her dead-on and she shook her head to evade the pungent scent.

  A scream died in her throat when a knife waved in front of her. She looked from the muscled arm to the face hardened by lines around the eyes and mouth. A man, tall, bald and dressed completely in black.