Darkest Night--A Romantic Thriller

by Tara Thomas

  But she didn’t want to think about Elise tonight. She wanted to think about Keaton and how she was going to invite him inside for a little dessert. She hid her smile. The upside to being stuck in the house all day was she got plenty of baking done.

  When they were kids, Keaton’s favorite cake had been a ten-layer chocolate. She didn’t start baking to relieve stress until she was in college, but when she started, the first cake she taught herself to make was a ten-layer chocolate.

  And there was a freshly baked one sitting right on top of her kitchen island.

  “Come inside?” she asked when he’d parked in front of her building. “I have cake. One I didn’t tell you about before.”

  He reached over and brushed her cheek. “I’d have come inside without the secret cake, you know.”

  She nodded, suddenly feeling very nervous.

  “Don’t touch that door,” he said, hopping out of his side. “I’ll get it.”

  She sat back in her seat, happy to be taken care of. Even though she believed his parents had been tricked by someone into thinking her dad had stolen from them, and even though it’d hurt her that they never questioned it and believed it so easily, the one thing she could say was they did a fine job instilling manners into their boys.

  She knew the reputation of the Benedict boys—she wasn’t a fool—but that was only on the surface. She had a feeling not many people knew the real men underneath the playboy façades.

  Keaton took her hand and they walked up the flight of stairs to her apartment. She couldn’t describe why or how, but she felt like something was off. When they made it to the landing halfway there, the skin on the back of her neck prickled. She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

  “You okay?” Keaton asked, his gaze following hers. “Did you see something?”

  “No, I just feel odd. It’s probably nothing.” She strained her ears. Were those footsteps on the stairs? And were they coming closer or further away?

  “How so?”

  How could she explain it to him if she couldn’t understand it herself? “Something feels off.”

  Once more he looked over the parking lot. He was frowning. “Do you see anything that looks out of place? A strange car? Anything?”

  She walked closer to him. “No, but I feel like I’m being watched.”

  They didn’t say anything else as they continued the walk up the stairs and the feeling only grew worse. In fact, by the time they reached her door, her hands were trembling so hard, she dropped her keys.

  Keaton reached down to get them. “Are you sure you didn’t see anything?”

  He didn’t give the keys back to her, but took them in hand to unlock the door himself. He turned the key to unlock the door and his frown deepened. “It’s not locked?”

  Fear spiked through her chest. “What? Are you sure? I know I locked it.”

  “I know you did, too; I watched you.” He twisted the handle. “It’s definitely unlocked. Does anyone else have a key?”

  Relief washed over her body. “Yes, my neighbor Ms. O’Donald. She probably needed her cake pans back.”

  He nodded. “Okay, but you seriously need to consider taking the key back if she can’t remember to lock up when she leaves. I’m slightly paranoid after that voice mail you got.”

  “Me, too.” Tilly nodded, but wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Ms. O’Donald was seventy-eight. Sometimes, she forgot things. But what if it wasn’t Ms. O’Donald?

  Keaton pushed the door open and stopped. “Oh, fuck.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Tilly’s apartment was a total wreck.

  Furniture was overturned and slashed through. Mirrors and picture frames were broken, with shards of glass littering the floor. Worst of all was the WHORE written in red along the far wall of her living room.

  Behind him, Tilly whimpered. He turned and took her in his arms, right as her legs buckled. He held her and as he did, he felt her resolve return. She took a deep breath and pushed back, her eyes darting around the room. “How? Who?”

  “We need to call the police and then wait downstairs.” Keaton was leading her out of the apartment as he talked. “I don’t think whoever did this is still around, but we can’t be too sure.”

  She didn’t argue with him and by the time they’d made it back to his car, he’d already called the police. As they waited, he thought about asking her again to move in with him. Surely now she’d understand the danger she was in and would agree to come to Benedict House. He looked up as flashing lights signaled the arrival of the police department. Once again it was Alyssa and her partner, Officer Drake.

  “Mr. Benedict. Ms. Brock,” Alyssa said, coming toward them.

  Keaton and Tilly spoke to Alyssa and told her what they’d found in the apartment. Alyssa sent her partner up to check everything out. It wasn’t too long until he came back down. He spoke briefly with Alyssa and then walked to the car to make a phone call.

  “No one’s in there now,” Alyssa said. “You’ll need to go through and see if anything has been stolen, but it looks like the place was just trashed.”

  “Why would anyone do that?” Tilly asked.

  “I don’t know,” Alyssa said. “If it’s the guy who killed Raven and Mindy, he broke pattern. He didn’t do this to either of their places. Of course, that doesn’t rule him out. We also have to consider the possibility that the two previous victims were warnings.”

  Which wasn’t what Keaton wanted to hear. He’d wanted Alyssa to say that, of course, this wasn’t the work of the killer. And since she couldn’t say that, it was even more imperative that Tilly move in with him.

  Tilly thought for a few seconds, before saying, “I had a prank call yesterday. Whoever it was said I was lucky, but my luck wouldn’t last.”

  “I received a text message yesterday asking if I knew where she was,” he added.

  “I meant what I told you before,” Alyssa said. “If either of you get another message, I want you to let me know.”

  They both agreed and Alyssa told them they were free to go back into the apartment, but to let her know if anything was missing.

  Keaton waited until the two cops left before taking Tilly’s hand. “Ready?”

  “No,” she answered, looking toward her door. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be completely ready, so I might as well go now.”

  Her grit and determination amazed him and he leaned over to give her a quick kiss. “Let’s go see if anything’s missing, and then I’d like you to pack a bit and come with me to Benedict House.”

  “I can’t do that. No.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you staying here.”

  “Then I’ll get a.…” She didn’t finish her sentence and he winced as he realized she probably didn’t have the funds for a hotel room.

  “Tilly, please.” He’d beg if he had to, knowing that he wouldn’t feel comfortable with her anywhere other than Benedict House.

  It was on her lips to say no, he could see it in her eyes, but then her expression softened. “Keaton.”

  “Please.” he repeated, softer. “I need you safe. I’ve only just found you again.” He lowered his head so his lips almost brushed her ear and he delighted at her shiver. “Please.”

  Some part of him knew he was playing unfairly. She was vulnerable and he was pulling at her emotions, but he didn’t care. He’d meant every word of it and he’d do far more to keep her safe. No matter what, she was staying with him tonight.

  She sighed deeply, but tilted her head up and whispered, “Yes.”

  He gave her a quick kiss, promising himself he’d make up for it with a longer one as soon as everything got settled, and took her hand so they could face her apartment together. She squeezed his hand in a silent thank you.

  Even though they’d seen the mess earlier, it wasn’t any easier the second time. As heart-wrenching as it was for him to see all her things scattered and broken, he could only imagine how it made her feel.

  One glance at
her told him she was putting on a brave front. She walked stoically through the tattered living room, seeming to note each item with a nod of her head. He followed quietly, aghast at how much damage had been done. Hell, there wasn’t one picture unbroken or one unslashed cushion. Even her clothing had been pulled from her bedroom and was scattered throughout her hallway. He wasn’t even sure there was enough untouched clothing for her to pack in an overnight bag. Heaven alone knew what kind of damage they’d find in the bathroom.

  A muffled sob from the kitchen caught his attention and he hurried to catch up with her. He hadn’t realized she’d moved ahead of him that far. She stood by the kitchen island, her face in her hands, sobbing.

  “Tilly?” He came to a halt behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  She turned around and her red, wet eyes hurt his heart. When he found out who did this, and he would, they were going to pay. He’d see to it himself.

  “They ruined your cake,” she said, pointing to the floor, which he now noticed was covered with yellow cake pieces and smears of light chocolate icing. “Your ten-layer chocolate cake.”

  She buried her head in his chest and cried. Not knowing what else to do, he simply held her, stroking her back and murmuring that it would be okay. The entire time, he hoped and prayed that he was right, but was very afraid he was telling her lies.

  * * *

  Tilly decided Keaton must think she was idiot. Her entire apartment was trashed and she fell apart because of a cake. Though to be honest, she’d been pretty close to losing it since the first step into her apartment. It was just seeing the cake all over the floor that finally pushed her over the edge. The cake she’d baked because once upon a time it had been his favorite and she wanted to do something special for him.

  And now, it was smashed all over her floor.

  She pushed back from him and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m okay now.”

  “What in the world are you apologizing for?” he asked. “I believe coming home to find your apartment ransacked is a perfectly acceptable reason to be upset.”

  She straightened her back. “I need to clean this up.”

  “No.” He held out an arm to stop her. “Do a quick look around to see if anything’s missing, grab an overnight bag, and we’re going to Benedict House.”

  “I can’t just leave this like it is.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No. I can’t.”

  “You can and you are.” His voice had changed. He probably wasn’t even aware of it, but he’d taken on the You’ll do as I say because I said so tone she’d heard Kipling use before. Most likely it was embedded in the Benedict DNA. “I’ll send over a cleaning crew tomorrow.”

  “A cleaning crew? Keaton—”

  He put a finger to her lips. “Check to see if anything’s missing. Pack an overnight bag. We can argue about cleanup later. I don’t feel comfortable with you being here any longer than you have to be.”

  His words had the desired effect and she looked over her shoulder. No one was here now, but did that mean they were really gone or they were just hiding and couldn’t be seen? Without another word, she checked on the few valuables she had.

  Her laptop screen had been smashed as well as her TV, but the secret hiding place she kept her mother’s few pieces of jewelry was undisturbed. She lifted the small velvet bag from between her boxsprings and mattress and looked around for an overnight bag.

  She found one in the hall and forced herself to turn off her emotions while she packed. She could do this, just put clothes in a bag. She didn’t even look to see if they were messed up; rather, she shoved anything nearby into the bag.

  “I don’t think you’ll need the puffer jacket,” Keaton said, gently removing it from the bag. “How about you go gather what you need from the bathroom and I’ll finish up in here?”

  With a nod, she was off, doing her best to shut herself off from what she was actually doing and instead focused on what she needed. Toothbrush. In the toilet. Surely the Benedicts had a spare. Makeup. Dumped out across the countertop. With a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, she decided she didn’t need anything in the bathroom after all.

  “I need to borrow a toothbrush,” she told Keaton as she walked back into her bedroom.

  He looked up from zipping up her bag. “We can handle that. You ready?”

  She took one last look around what a few hours ago had been her safe haven, her home, and sighed. “Yes.”

  She was not going to cry again. She was not.

  “Hey,” Keaton tugged the strap of the bag over his shoulder and pulled her to his chest. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  It took everything she had, but she managed to control her tears. “How do you know? Look at this.” The wide sweep of her arm encompassed the whole of the apartment.

  With one finger, he lifted her chin so she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Because there are two of us now. And together we can handle it.”

  She wanted so desperately to believe him. Truly she did. And she believed that he thought he would be right there through it all with her. But they had only reconnected two days ago and had spent years apart. Emotionally, she couldn’t afford to put all her eggs in his basket; it was too risky. Her heart couldn’t handle losing him twice.

  But as she looked into his strange brown eyes, she knew she’d offend him if she spoke her doubts, so instead she swallowed them, smiled, and said, “Okay.”

  “Good,” he said even though he probably knew she wouldn’t argue with him. “It’s settled then. We’ll get you to Benedict House, have a good night’s rest, and the cleaning crew will come by in the morning.” He took her hand and led her to the door.

  “What’s it like?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “What’s what like?”

  She waited while he locked the door. “To speak a word and have the whole world do your bidding?”

  He looked momentarily stunned as if he hadn’t heard right or maybe it was just that he never realized that was what happened. She feared it was the first and she’d gone and offended him anyway.

  But he flashed that easy smile that always seemed to make her heart flutter just so and said, “Pretty damn good, actually.”

  His answer was so unexpected, she broke out into laughter. Still smiling, he took her hand and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

  She couldn’t agree more. And even though the apartment was a wreck and she was moving temporarily into a house she wasn’t completely comfortable living in, his hand felt perfect and right wrapped around hers. It didn’t escape her attention that he was once more protecting her in that caring way of his. Even with all that had gone on and even with all the questions surrounding her apartment and who had trashed it, her heart still felt light because she knew Keaton would keep her safe.

  Their levity was shorter than expected, however, because when they reached his car, all four tires had been slashed.

  * * *

  It had been dangerous for Jade to stick around once she’d finished trashing Tilly’s apartment. But she had wanted to slash Keaton’s tires because she knew The Gentleman would like it. She waited behind a bush on the outskirts of the parking lot. Enough out of the way so that no one would see her, but close enough that she could see and hear what was happening.

  She’d heard them talking with the policewoman and was able to confirm that the local police department had nothing figured out. Just the thought of it made her smile. She couldn’t wait to share that tidbit with The Gentleman.

  Keaton Benedict didn’t look scared yet and that was the only downside to the night. His girlfriend, though, looked scared enough for both of them. If everything went according to plan, it wouldn’t be long before she saw that look on Keaton’s face.

  * * *

  “Are you calling the police?” Tilly asked him as he pulled out his phone.

  “Yes,” he said. “Part of me believes it won’t do any good, but in this case, I think it�
�s best to err on the side of caution.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you feel the same?”

  “I trust Officer Adams,” she told him. “I’m not sure I feel the same about her partner yet. But there’s something different about her.”

  Keaton nodded and started dialing. “I saw it, too.”

  They didn’t have to wait long for Alyssa to show up again. This time she arrived without her partner. She explained that he was writing the report from earlier in the evening. Something in her tone of voice and the look in her eye gave Tilly the impression she was relieved he’d stayed behind.

  Tilly and Keaton stood off to the side while she looked over the car and made a phone call. It seemed to Tilly that she took her time and was surprised when the officer waved them over to her instead of coming to them.

  “Did you find something, Officer?” Keaton asked, slipping his hand into Tilly’s.

  It was such a simple gesture, but one that had an instant calming effect on her. She squeezed his in a silent thank you.

  Alyssa’s gaze followed the movement. “I’m going to be honest with you both, because I think it’s the right thing to do and because this could potentially be a dangerous situation.”

  What the hell? Beside her, she felt Keaton tense and she knew he hadn’t liked Alyssa’s response, either.

  “Officially,” Alyssa said. “It is the position of the Charleston PD that the break-in and the tires are not related to the recent kidnappings and murders.”

  “And unofficially?” Tilly asked while giving a sideways glance to Keaton. He looked seconds away from exploding.

  “Unofficially,” Alyssa said, “I find everything to be too coincidental. I don’t believe in coincidence. Come here.” She walked to the back tires and waited for them to join her. She pointed to the slash. “See this? It’s not the sort of slash we normally see. Based on my experience, it looks more like it was made with an elite type service knife.”