“Thanks.”
“You really think that’s the guy?” The security chief looked to the screen, then to Laken and back to him.
“Yeah, I do. Now we just have to identify him.”
****
A half hour later Mac was repeating the same words to his captain. He knew it was stretching for the superior to accept it without any evidence. But after what the man had witnessed with Laken, he okayed for the priority tech time to try to come up with a clearer image that they could use for identification.
Captain Carter looked out his office window to where Laken sat at his desk. “Has she…” He paused and drew in a deep breath, seeming reluctant to say the words. “…seen any more visions?”
“No.” Mac shook his head. “You have the full report and tape from Dr. Shannon.”
“Yeah, our victim is hanging in there. The doctors still aren’t saying for positive, but they say it’s looking up with each hour that passes. I want this guy.” The stony, means-business attitude settled over the captain and he left it at that.
Mac didn’t need more. He wanted the killer more than anyone there. He looked out at Laken. It was personal for him.
The captain switched subjects behind him. “The tech got a lot of prints off her apartment, but there was no match. So whoever did it hasn’t got any priors, and I’d say was ticked off enough to not be thinking clearly enough to worry about prints.”
Mac thought for a minute before he turned back. Icy certainty filled him. “It wasn’t the Hunter. The Hunter’s too methodical. He wouldn’t blow like that, unless he’s really losing it. I can’t see him far gone enough to not wear gloves like he has so far.” Mac took a breath, working it out in his mind as he talked. “I think gloves are part of his MO, not just so he doesn’t leave evidence. It’s that he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty with them. They’re beneath him. It’s what he’s proving. They’re not as good. Beautiful, but back-stabbing. Steps on them, again because they’re beneath him. He’s going to tread them under, when he’s done with them.”
“It fits, and I concur about the apartment. Though, you do realize that means someone else isn’t happy with your girlfriend?”
There was no need for the captain to point it out. Mac had figured that out before they had left there the day before. So he simply nodded. “I can’t leave her alone, unprotected.” He figured he didn’t need to say not only was she the only witness they had, but she meant the world to him personally, and he was right.
It was the captain’s turn to nod. “You’re going to keep her around here while you work?”
“Yeah.”
“If you have to follow something up or she wants to go home, grab an officer to put on her. I’ll okay it for now.”
“Thanks.”
“All right, back to work.”
Mac reached for the door, but the voice behind him stopped his hand on the knob. “Get this guy, Mac.”
He looked back over his shoulder. “I will.” It was an easy promise to make, and in that instant, he realized they both knew it would likely be the last big act of his career. Looking to the woman waiting for him at his desk, he could honestly say he didn’t mind as long as it meant he got to spend the rest of his days with her. He steeled his shoulders. That meant he needed to find the Hunter — fast. “Not until he kills me.” The unwanted words came to his mind. He wasn’t going to let that happen. Laken was his. The Hunter had picked the wrong prey this time because he wasn’t getting her.
Laken stood as he approached her. “What did your captain say?” Anxiety poured off her.
“We’re going with the video. They’ll get working on it right now. It might take some time though. So until then I follow up other leads.”
“What about me?”
“For now, you stay here with me.”
She nodded. “I need to go home sometime to start cleaning up.”
“I’ll get an officer to take you home in a little while if that’s okay.”
A shudder passed over her, and she nodded again. “You think it’s necessary?”
“I’m not going to take chances.” He reached out and caught her hand, giving her fingers a squeeze. “You okay here?”
“Yeah, I raided your bookcase before we left.” She pulled a book from her purse.
It was one of his favorite authors. “That’s a good book.”
“I like him but haven’t read this one yet.”
“It’s a good time then.” He directed her to a chair and hoped the adventures of Dirk Pitt could keep her mind from her own real life and death battle.
It was only about an hour until the end of his shift when Jonesy came up with a lock on one of the guys they had been checking out. He had dated the first victim, and she’d reportedly dumped him because her job was taking off, and he didn’t take it very well. Mac didn’t like letting Laken out of his sight but agreed to let an officer take her home.
Fifteen minutes later, Laken stood in her doorway and sighed. It was all she could do to keep the tears from surfacing. Her neat little apartment was an absolute wreck. Behind her, Jeffers, the officer escorting her, let out a low whistle. “I’d say someone was mad. You okay, ma’am?”
She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Yeah.” She knew what to expect, but it wasn’t any easier than it had been seeing it the day before. Tentatively she stepped through the doorway. “I’d say make yourself comfortable but that might be hard.”
“It’s okay. What can I do to help?” the man volunteered.
“Well, first I need to call my insurance company and make sure I can start cleaning up.” It only took a couple minutes before she was assured that the adjustor had been out. He had all he needed, and her claim was being processed.
So they set to work uprighting undamaged things. To the side of the door they made a pile of broken items and sacks of her possessions that had been reduced to garbage. Laken held the pieces of a small horse statue, which she’d gotten as a present when she had been about ten and horse crazy, and she bit her lip to keep tears back. With a sigh she dropped it into the garbage bag. She jumped at a sudden knock on the door. Laken moved toward it, but the officer motioned her back, positioning himself beside the door before she looked through the peephole.
Laken let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. “It’s Mrs. Simmons. She lives across the hall.” When he nodded and moved back, she took a second to steady herself and opened the door.
“Hello, Mrs. Simmons.”
“Oh, Laken, it was you I heard. I was afraid when I heard a racket in here.”
Laken wasn’t fooled. Mrs. Simmons had known it was her all along. She had just waited until she couldn’t stand it any longer before her nosiness drew her to cross the hall. “Sorry we disturbed you. We’re just trying to clean up.”
“Oh, pish posh. It is so unbelievable. To think this could happen here. I’ll tell you, it makes me so nervous. Howard agreed to stay with me a couple extra days until my nerves settled down. He is such a good boy. When are you going to go out again?”
Laken wondered what Howard had told her. Obviously, it didn’t entail the truth about how the date went. “Actually, I’ve met someone else, and we’ve become serious.” There was no way she was going to let her know about Mac‘s proposal. Mrs. Simmons was nice and meant well, but she was a huge gossip. And Laken hadn’t even had a chance yet to call her family and tell them she was engaged. A wave of reassuring warmth washed over her as she thought about Mac.
The woman glanced at the police officer, who was keeping a discreet eye on her from the kitchen, then turned back to her. “That nice man you were with the other day, the one that brought you flowers?”
It hit hard when Mrs. Simmons mentioned the flowers. Except for one she had pressed in a book to save, the others were sticking out of the garbage with the vase she had put them in. “Oh well, yes.”
“He did seem very nice. A little rugged though, don’t you think?”
/>
Laken could almost see the woman figuring how to work her nephew back in, not that Laken was going to let that happen. “You don’t happen to have a couple boxes do you, Mrs. Simmons?”
Her neighbor jerked, obviously caught by surprise. “Oh yes, dear, of course. I should’ve thought. The broken glass. It really doesn’t go in trash bags very well.”
“Yes,” Laken agreed.
“If you’d like to come get them, I think I have at least three or four.” Mrs. Simmons turned to her door.
Laken looked back over her shoulder at the policeman. “I’m going across the hall to get some boxes.”
Concern creased the officer’s brow. “Leave the doors open so I can see you.”
Laken nodded, feeling that it sounded excessive, but not willing to take any chances. She followed Mrs. Simmons. Her apartment was a two-bedroom, one of the bigger ones in the building. Still, it felt cramped with all the woman’s knickknacks. She had a special fondness for porcelain cats and dogs. They each had names, and she pampered them as if they were real, which Laken had thought was funny until one day the woman confided she was extremely allergic to animals but had always wanted a pet.
“I just shudder at the thought of someone getting in here and breaking my babies.” The woman trailed her hand fondly over a life-sized basset hound.
“Fortunately, I didn’t have anything like your collection, and I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’m sure it was just a one-time thing, and I was just the unlucky one it happened to.”
“But the policeman there?”
“Oh, he’s a friend of a friend.” Laken gave the first excuse she could come up with, not willing to tell the old woman she might have a killer after her. “He just offered to help.”
“I see. That was nice. Well, there are a couple boxes in the corner in there if you want to get them. I think there’s one more in my closet.” The woman turned into her room, and Laken headed for the spare bedroom. She was almost through the door before she noticed Howard stretched out on the bed, his hands behind his head. His shirt unbuttoned and the tails hanging free.
“Well, this is a nice surprise.” The man’s eyes moved over her in an insulting manner.
Laken paused, then forced herself forward, seeing the boxes. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Ardith didn’t say you were here. I was just getting some boxes.”
She picked them up, but when she turned back, Howard was no longer on the bed but stood between her and the door. A wave of fear hit her but she pushed it away. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“You still think you’re all that. Coming on so prim and proper,” the man said in a low, menacing voice. “But you’re not. You’re as two-faced as any other. Giving it to that other guy, aren’t you? Noticed you were gone the last couple nights.” A sneer pulled up his lips, and his eyes tightened with threat. “And now you come in here. What, did you find out he wasn’t any good after all? Women are liars, all of you. Just want what you can get. Well, I guess I could give you some if you ask real nice.” He stepped forward.
Laken backed up, lifting the boxes between them as a shield. “Excuse me. I need to go.”
“What do I have to do? You like coaxing?”
“I’d like to go. Your aunt is just in the other room.”
“If I close the door, she won’t disturb us,” he challenged and Laken took it up.
“Yes, but there’s a police officer in my apartment, and if you close that door, he will disturb us. Now back off before I yell.”
The man seemed to think on her words a second then dismissed them, taking another step forward, forcing her back against the wall.
The feel of it behind her gave her strength. “I mean it, Howard. I tried to be nice to you because of your aunt, but if you don’t back off, I’m going to hit you, then I’m going to start screaming.”
“You wouldn’t hit me.”
“Oh, yes I would.” The force behind the words must have finally sunk in.
He scowled and swore. “Ice queen. Think you can take on a man?”
“I don’t want to take you on. I want to leave. Now let me pass.” She shoved forward with the boxes, bumping him to the side. She was almost past him when his hand locked on her arm. Laken didn’t think, just drove her elbow back into his stomach. The hand released her, and the man doubled over.
“Don’t ever touch me or come near me again.” She enunciated the words through clenched teeth. “The only reason I’m not yelling my head off for the officer is I happen to like your aunt, but I suggest you get some counseling. You need help in your relationships with women.”
By the time Laken reached her apartment, she was remarkably calm. The anger Howard raised helped burn off some of the residual fears that still lingered in her mind.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Simmons dropped off the other box, obviously ignorant of any problem between Laken and Howard. Laken though, was not ready to engage in any more small talk and excused herself, saying she needed to get back to work.
The apartment was pretty much back in order when Mac showed up.
“You’ve been busy.” He eyed the clean room and the boxes and bags stacked by the door. “Looks like we need several trips to the garbage.”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “I only have a handful of dishes that weren’t broken. Officer Jeffers has been a great help.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am. You taking over now?” He looked to Mac.
“Yes, you’re relieved. Thanks.”
Jeffers nodded and after a thank you from Laken he left.
Laken turned from the door to find herself caught up in Mac’s arms. “Oh.” The word slipped out right before his lips settled on hers.
“Hello there,” Mac drawled out when he lifted his head. He lowered his head into her hair, taking in a deep breath of her. “It’s nice to come home to you.”
“I can agree with that.” She gave him another kiss before they stepped apart. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you much to eat.”
“That’s okay, I’ll take you out.” He studied her apartment again. “You’ve definitely been busy.”
“It wasn’t hard. Most of it was swept up into the garbage. Luckily, it looks like my renter’s insurance is going to come through and cover a lot of it.”
“That’s great.” He placed a finger under her chin and tilted it up. “But it’s still hard.”
“Yes.” She knew she was going to have to tell him about what happened with Howard, but it didn’t make it any easier either. Still, she decided not to keep anything from him, though she doubted it had any relevance to what was going on. She was like a magnet for trouble lately. “You want to help me take some of this stuff down?”
“Sure.” He grabbed the biggest box, and she took a couple garbage bags.
She waited until they were in the elevator going down before she started to tell him what happened with Howard. Laken could see the temper rising in him before the elevator doors opened.
“Back up and tell me everything again,” he ordered as she led the way to the dumpster, asking no other questions, just listening as she talked. They were back in the elevator when she couldn’t take it any longer. “Mac, what are you thinking?”
Beside his leg, his fist clenched and unclenched again. “That I’d like to beat the daylights out of the man.”
She reached out and caught his arm. “You are not going to beat him up.”
“You sure?”
There was no mistaking the challenge in him. The ding of the elevator door opening had her shifting in front of him. Her other hand pressed against his chest, keeping him back. “You can’t beat him up. Then you’d have to arrest yourself.” She moved closer. “Mac, I didn’t tell you so you’d go after him. I told you because I promised myself that I would never keep anything from you. I really don’t believe Howard has anything to do with the killings or my apartment. Do you?”
There was a brooding silence about him. The doors behind her closed at the same
time his arms wrapped around her. He gave a gentle tug, pulling her against him. “For the record, I was not going to beat him up, no matter that I would like to. But I’m going to have a talk with him and run a check to be on the safe side.”
She got no answer out before his mouth captured hers. They made it back to the ground floor before they had to break apart and move back to let a middle-aged couple get on the elevator. The woman gave them sly looks, and the man just grinned as they rode the three floors up.
Mac took the key from her, opened her apartment, and gave her a nudge inside. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
Laken reached out to catch his arm, but the answer to her unspoken question was already being delivered.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hit him.” He closed and locked the door before she could add any further objections.
Chapter Twelve
Mac forced down the desire to hit the man. Fortunately, it was his aunt that answered the door. He pasted his ever-handy cop smile on his face and greeted her before asking if her nephew was there.
“You want to speak to Howard?” Concern filled the woman’s voice, making it go sharp, bringing the aforementioned man into the hall.
“Yes, just for a minute out here. Just checking on things he might have noticed the day Laken’s apartment was broken into,” Mac added.
“Oh, yes. He wasn’t here when you talked to me earlier.”
“No.” Mac used the excuse, glaring over the old woman, not giving her nephew a chance to back out. “If we could talk.” Mac motioned out the door, and the man sullenly moved past.
Mac had just closed the door when Howard started. “What’s this? I don’t know what the lying witch told you but nothing happened.”
“Laken told me everything, and I want you to leave her alone. I will make that clear, but as I said to your aunt, I want to know if you saw or heard anything the day of the break in?”
“What? You think I had something to do with it? Did she say that? She’s lying. I’ve never even been in her apartment.”
Temperature Rising Page 14
