by Bonnie Vanak
Throat dry, he watched, sweat trickling down his spine. The camera angle was wide, showing everything. Her hair was soft gold, spilling down past her shoulders as she released the clip holding it back. With a sigh, she stretched again, the move lifting her breasts. He felt like a voyeur, eyeing the screen, but this was the job.
Belle removed her doctor’s lab coat, hung it on a peg on the back of the door. Beneath the coat she wore a simple green sleeveless dress. Nice arms, slightly muscled, well defined. The lady hadn’t lied. She did work out, even if it was that CrossFit that was all the rage these days.
His sport of choice was kickboxing with an opponent who could kick his ass.
Silence filled the room as they watched the screen. Then an annoying crunch. Kyle’s glance flicked sideways.
Kid was munching on chips. Annoyed, he returned his attention to the screen.
Belle sat on the doctor’s swivel stool in the room and bent over, kicking off her sensible heels.
Okay, this was odd. Was she going to nap in the unused exam room?
He studied the contours of her legs, clad in stockings. Such nice legs, long and with just the right amount of curve and muscle. So feminine. He liked that she wore a dress and pearls. It fit her elegant, refined personality. Yet part of him longed to see her in casual clothing, maybe shorts and a sleeveless top. He could envision her on a sailboat, wind teasing color into her cheeks, her hair blowing back, a laugh on her lips...
Sailing with her would be fun. A challenge he’d enjoy...
“Holy crap,” the kid said between munches.
Kyle stared.
Holy crap indeed. Belle had hiked up her green dress, and proceeded to wriggle out of her pantyhose like a snake shedding a skin. Fortunately, she was quick, showing only a glimpse of forest green panties...
“She’s a little old to be a victim of child trafficking,” Junior said, munching on a potato chip. “But wow, what a bod...so hot...”
She folded the hose and placed them in the gym bag. He had a bad feeling about this. Wanted to shut off the camera. Kyle drew in a deep breath.
Next she withdrew black yoga pants, a pink T-shirt and what looked like a black sports bra from the bag, set them on the stool. Heart in his stomach, he clenched his fists. No, get a call, get turned away, don’t do this, don’t do this...
But she did. Unzipped her dress and drew it over her head.
“Wow,” the kid said. “Nice!”
Jaw dropping, he could make no sound. Instead, he clapped a hand over the kid’s eyes. Roarke leaned over, depressed a key to pause the video.
“Hey! What gives?” the kid yelled.
“Shut up,” Kyle said softly.
“I need to see this. I need to tell where the footage is from...”
“Do you like DC?”
He could feel eyelashes blink against his palm as if the kid was confused. “Yeah. I love it here. Great nightlife.”
“Then shut up and keep your eyes closed or I’ll have you shipped to a field office in Nebraska and you’ll freeze your balls and your social life.”
The kid shut up. When he removed his hand, the kid’s eyes remained shut. Scared. Good. He wasn’t in any mood to tolerate sass or commentary.
Just in case the kid got ideas...
He pivoted the kid’s chair around so he faced the door.
He nodded at the grim-faced Roarke, who let the video run again.
Belle stood before them in a lacy forest green bra. The undergarment exposed the top halves of her breasts, rounded and soft-looking. She had a perfect hourglass figure, her hips rounded but not too big, covered in matching lace panties. She looked like a Victoria’s Secret underwear model.
She went to the mirror on the wall, stood before it, frowning. Why the frown? He didn’t get it. She was gorgeous. Perfect. A teenage wet dream.
“Yeah, I need the workout. Too many late-night snacks, my girl,” she said in a clear voice to the mirror.
With an index finger, she poked at her hips. “Wide as a house! Extra cardio today. You can do this,” she told the mirror.
Wide as a house? He adored her hips. They were perfect as is...
Belle left the mirror and faced the camera again. His glance frantically shot to the clothing pile on the stool.
Clearly she was headed for a workout. Using the room as a changing room before she went to the gym. Dear Lord, please don’t let that be a sports bra, don’t let that be one...get dressed...hurry up...hurry up...
But the good Lord wasn’t listening to him today because she reached behind her, unclipped the bra and pulled it off.
All while facing the camera on the counter.
Mouth dry, he fought to control a sudden surge of lust, and then felt an equal surge of disgust. He felt like a damn Peeping Tom, staring at her half-dressed.
She should be in his bedroom doing this as he watched. He’d gently tease her, encourage her, bringing a shy blush to her cheeks, a sparkle to her eyes...
Out of respect, he forced his gaze to examine other areas on the screen. The table behind her, and the edges of her toes. Hot-pink toenails. She liked her pedicures, he guessed. Her nails were trimmed and clean, but not painted, as if she worked a lot with them.
He reached over to end the video. Stomach clenching, he wanted to rip the SD card from the computer and pound it into oblivion.
Roarke stopped him.
“We have to watch it all, Kyle,” Roarke said tightly. “Evidence.”
He swore under his breath. Nodded.
Unfortunately, as he straightened, his eyes shot right to where he’d been trying to avoid. Her breasts. Kyle sucked down a deep breath, forced his gaze upward to her lovely face.
Pearls around her neck. Small, round and perfect. Glinting in the harsh fluorescent light.
I’d ask her to keep the pearls on when we made love. She would look so sexy, her hair spread out on my pillow...
Fisting his hands, he swallowed hard against the lust spreading through him. Kyle looked down, looked up.
Now onscreen Belle stood at the sink. The camera angle wasn’t as clear, thankfully. He heard water running, and then a paper towel dispenser clicking.
Back to the camera, she went to the stool, dressed in the sports bra, yoga pants and pink T-shirt, then donned socks and shoes. She picked up the gym bag, left the room, clicked off the light.
The room went dark and silent once more.
The video kept rolling, and then went dark.
Kyle’s mind clicked back to pro mode. He rolled Junior back to the screen. “What else is on this card?”
Junior typed in a few commands, scanned his monitor. “Nothing. Just the video. Want to watch it again to make sure...”
Kyle reached over, snapped off the monitor.
“Hey,” the kid protested.
Ignoring him, he removed the card from the desktop. “I need the password to the SD card.”
“You have no right...”
“Password.”
“Tell him, son,” Roarke said quietly. “You don’t want to mess with him now.”
“Antibiotic,” the kid muttered. “I ran the program using medical terms, figured that...”
“Thanks,” he said curtly and, clutching the card, left the room.
In the hallway, he and Roarke were stopped by a solemn crime-scene tech.
“Got something for you, Kyle. I traced the serial numbers from the camera.” The crime-scene tech consulted his tablet. “Purchased by one Michael Patterson with his credit card.”
Kyle handed him the SD card. “Thanks, Dale. I need you to tell me everything you can about this card. It’s a vid of Dr. North getting undressed.”
Thankfully, Dale wasn’t immature like the kid. “Sure.”
They followed Dale into his lab, where he inserte
d the card into a computer. Kyle gave him the password and Dale ran a series of programs.
“Huh. Interesting.” Dale pointed to a series of numbers on his computer screen. “I pulled the metadata from the SD card and the vid was recorded two weeks ago. It was taped over something.”
“Can you go deep and find out what was erased?” Roarke asked.
“I can try. I’ll get back to you.”
They left Dale to do his work. Kyle headed for the kitchen. He needed caffeine and a chance to clear his head, and sort through his jumbled thoughts.
“So Dr. Patterson used the camera to photograph children in the clinic, and caught Belle on camera as she undressed.” Roarke handed Kyle a paper cup filled with black coffee and then got a cup for himself.
“The big question is why did Patterson do it?” he mused, stirring the barely warm liquid.
“Maybe Patterson has a thing for her. She is a beautiful woman,” his partner pointed out.
What he wouldn’t give to have Patterson here. He’d question him, maybe with his fists. On second hand, good thing the doctor wasn’t here.
What kind of sick jerk was Patterson? Did he use the hidden camera to record photographs of children to kidnap them? If so, why keep the vid of Belle? To watch it later?
Maybe the bastard had a hidden obsession with Belle. His mind raced over the possibilities. To his shock, jealousy flashed through him. Patterson and Belle, laughing as they worked together...
Get a grip, Anderson.
This is what you get for getting involved, for letting your feelings interfere with a case. She’s a beautiful woman. You’re a guy. Control yourself.
Yet there was no denying the sparks flying between them when they were together. He was attracted to her on a deeper level, and not for her body. Her intellect and strong personality and dedication intrigued him. Until he realized her desire to protect her family overrode her desire to find the missing girls.
He wondered if he’d been wrong, and she was a victim, as well. Had he been so eager to find fault with her, blaming her profession, because he didn’t want her to be innocent?
Cast blame on her because his attraction to her made him uncomfortable? Made him think of things that seemed impossibly out of reach?
Things like a real relationship with a woman, not simply a one-night stand.
Things like home and family instead of career and hard work.
A life.
Kyle scoffed. He was getting too damn introspective and his life wasn’t on the line. An innocent little girl was missing and if not dead yet, perhaps shipped out of the country even as he stood here like a dumb ass.
“Earth to Kyle?” Roarke waved a hand in front of his face. “Dude, you here?”
“What?”
“The fact that the card was still in the camera indicates whoever did this, most likely Patterson, didn’t see the video yet. It wasn’t in the hidden compartment with the photos of the children.”
True. He felt for the coin in his trouser pocket, brought it out and flipped it. There were plenty of sick people in this world who would never hesitate to hurt someone else. Was Belle an innocent victim?
There was something innocent in the way she undressed, the critical self-exam in the mirror and her lack of guile that told him she was unaware of being recorded.
“Patterson is our link,” he muttered.
Roarke took out his phone, made a call. Sure enough, just as Kyle suspected.
“The doctor might have told Belle he was in the Bahamas, but the phone company pinged his iPhone and he’s still here in Florida. His location keeps jumping from Miami to the Keys.”
He blinked fast. “Find him. Put out an APB. I want that bastard caught before he even flashes his passport. He’s our link.”
“Dr. North’s footage has to be accidental. Maybe he planned to return later for the SD card.”
Roarke’s suggestion made sense. Yet his gut said otherwise. “I think he was totally aware of Belle undressing in that room, and kept the card.”
“Why?”
“That’s something only Belle can answer. Did he tell her to use the room, knowing the camera recorded? What’s the extent of their relationship and what does it have to do with the missing children?”
“She’s not a suspect anymore.”
“Not for the moment. But we need to question her because Dr. North is in the thick of all of this. And she may have answers, answers she doesn’t even realize she knows.”
Chapter 14
It had been a long, tiring day at the cardiology practice and Belle was ready to kick off her heels and relax.
For some reason, her mind constantly drifted to Kyle. It hurt to know he considered her as a suspect, someone who would be so low as to conspire to photograph innocent children. Maybe even help kidnap them.
She liked him. Really liked him, more than as a person. The chemistry between them sizzled and made her feel alive and aware in a way no other man had made her feel in a long time.
Stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove, she tried to lift her spirits. Music blared on the speaker Bluetoothed to her iPod, a lighthearted jazz tune. At her feet, Boo wagged his tail in hopes of a treat.
“Not yet, sweetie.”
Belle sighed. She hated leaving him alone all day while she was gone, and though Boo was fed and walked by a pet sitter, he was still lonely.
Maybe she’d take her dog over to her cousin Myra’s house for a visit. Boo adored playing with the two other rescue shih tzu dogs Myra and her husband owned.
The treats were kept in a ceramic jar on the counter painted with paws. Belle tossed a dog biscuit to Boo, who caught it in midair. As he munched, Belle tested the sauce. Almost ready. All these carbs were going to be hell on her hips, but she needed a treat after the strain of the past week.
A soft chime sounded at the front door. She turned down the heat under the sauce, wiped her hands and consulted her phone to see the video camera on the doorbell.
Her heart skipped a beat. The black SUV in the driveway, and the two men standing on her porch would make any woman’s heart beat faster, but the FBI agents were not here to socialize.
Now what? I didn’t do it.
Steeling herself, she opened the door.
“Gentlemen. How may I help you?”
Inside, she winced at her cold, stiff voice, what Clint called her social-chastising tone.
Kyle inclined his head. “We found something. May we come inside?”
Equally formal, but gone was the coldness of yesterday, the accusing glare. Confused, she stepped aside. Boo raced into the hallway, barking, tail wagging as a greeting.
Roarke stooped down and petted him, but Kyle did not.
Then he focused on her. She became too aware of the intensity of his gaze, and flushed. Belle swept a hand over her jeans. Bare feet, too. And yeah, there was a red stain on her gray shirt.
“You caught me in the middle of making dinner. I don’t usually look like this.”
More formality. Awkward. If you plan on hauling me to the police station for questioning, maybe you’ll let me change.
“You look wonderful,” he said softly.
That deep voice, so sexy and gruff, made her melt. Don’t think of that. You’re a suspect. The enemy.
Refusing to look at him, she instead studied the laptop in his hands.
Hope sprang inside her. Maybe they found a lead? “Is it Anna? Did you find her?”
“No.” Kyle’s mouth flattened. “We have something to show you. It’s not good, I’m afraid. But it has nothing to do with Anna.”
Belle led them into the kitchen. “May I get you a cold drink? Water? Tea?”
“No, thanks,” Roarke said.
“I’ll take a bottled water.”
Surprised Kyle wanted a drink, she
got him one as he set the laptop on the kitchen table, typed in some commands and then pulled out a chair.
“Please sit,” he ordered.
No refusing the command in his firm, yet gentle voice. Belle handed him the water and sat. Kyle and Roarke took seats across from each other. Kyle opened the water and took a long swig.
“Whatever you’re here for, you need to know I had nothing to do with the hidden camera or the photographs. I may have called my brother to alert him about it, but I swear I would never condone such activity, or hide it from the authorities. I’m not in league with whoever set up that camera.”
“I believe you.”
Belle watched Kyle’s expression turn sympathetic. Oh, this was not good. What was going on? Even Roarke stared at the floor as if finding it suddenly fascinating.
“You do? Yesterday you were ready to throw me into a jail cell.” Belle folded her arms across her chest.
His gaze riveted to the pearls around her throat. “Yesterday we didn’t know about this.”
Kyle popped the SD card into his laptop, typed a command.
“We found an encrypted SD card still in the hidden camera in Exam Room Four,” he told her. “Our staff found the password to unlock it.”
“Footage of Anna? Do you need me to ID her?”
“No.” He took a deep breath. “Footage of you.”
Belle fingered her pearls, a gift from her late grandmother. Seldom taken off, they were a comforting reminder of decorum blended with love. Her grandmother had loved her dearly, and if Belle played in the mud or was a little naughty, her grandmother never scolded or chastised, warning her to be a lady.
Her grandmother let her be herself.
Kyle’s mouth thinned as he depressed a button and the video began playing on the laptop screen. Roarke looked away, his expression tight. Kyle focused on her.
She watched.
Oh dear Lord in heaven. Her heart dropped to her stomach, and she struggled to breathe.
Exam Room Four two weeks ago, when she’d spent a weary day seeing patients and had to force herself to go to CrossFit classes. She’d changed in the room as motivation, because it was empty...
Although slightly distorted, the video showed her undressing, kicking off her wide high heels, removing her lab coat and then...
