by Diana Duncan
He winked. “Murphy and O’Rourke, at your service. You can thank the mutt for alerting on the bomb so quickly. Otherwise, we might not have bugged out in time.”
An animal who terrified her had saved her life. And Liam’s. It disoriented her. As if she didn’t know up from down, right from wrong. She glanced behind her and stiffened. “Um…Liam?” Her heart sinking, she pointed to Murphy, who had clambered onto the seat. He held a familiar looking envelope in his mouth.
Liam swiveled. “Fan-freaking-tastic. Wonder what Norman Bates has to say now?”
“He’s probably gloating over his mass destruction of my life.” Everything she owned was gone. It was the last straw in a long, stressful day. She clutched the wheel so hard it creaked.
Liam turned to look at her, and his eyes narrowed. “Kate?”
Her breathing was ragged. “I. Can’t. Take. Anymore.”
Liam eased his arm around her as carefully as if she were a live explosive. “It’s okay. Let it out.”
The moment of reckoning crashed over her in a tsunami of pain. “He…he put a bomb in my car. Burned both apartments.”
“It’s okay, honey. Don’t fight it.”
At his encouragement, her words picked up speed and began to tumble over one another. “He stole my photos. Destroyed my studio and my negatives. He’s annihilated everything I own except the wet clothes on my back and the pictures you saved.” A knot of tears tangled in her throat. “He’s ruined the new life I worked so hard to build. Two years of struggle…gone!”
“I know.” He hugged her. “I’m sorry.”
Once released, her emotions poured out. “Worse, he’s put Aubrey in jeopardy.” Though she fought it, anguish swelled into a choking burden. “He al-almost killed you b-because of me.”
“I’m not that easy to kill.” His thumb caressed her nape. “Turn it loose. You’ll feel better.”
She swam against the overwhelming tide, but was wrenched under. “It’s a nightmare! I have no control! I can’t stop him!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Ashamed, yet unable to pull out of the treacherous spin, she buried her face in her hands.
“Come here, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around her and hauled her over the console and into his lap. She burrowed into his shoulder, and he stroked her hair. “Let go, Kate.”
She didn’t have a choice. Everything tore free. Wrenching sobs racked her body and eclipsed her ability to speak.
Strong and sure, Liam rode out the storm, kept her from sinking. He pressed a tender kiss to her temple. “That’s it,” he whispered. “Get rid of it.”
Years of repressed grief spilled out. She sobbed, and he rocked her, crooning comforting nonsense as she cried.
She had no idea how long she cried before the torrent finally slowed. Breathing in choppy gasps, she clutched his damp shirt and fought to regain her composure. “Liam?”
His deep voice was calm, his capable hands steady as he rubbed her back. “Right here, Kate.”
Despair devoured her alive. “What are we going to do?”
“Everything will be okay,” his low, mellow voice rumbled into her ear.
“How can it be?” She sniffled, hiccuped. “How are we going to save Aubrey now?”
“I won’t give up until we get your photographs back.” He eased away and cradled her face in his hand. His green eyes burned with determination. “I refuse to accept the alternative.”
His faith and confidence had never wavered. While she… Humiliated by her weakness, she ducked her chin. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.” His warm breath feathered over her cheek. “The son of a bitch who torched your life has reason to be sorry. I’m gonna make him the sorriest bastard on the planet.”
“I fell apart, acted like a big baby.” She’d behaved as horribly as her hysterical sister.
“You expressed heartfelt emotion after a staggering loss. Perfectly normal.” He made her look at him. There was no censure on his face, only kindness. “You feel better, don’t you?”
It was the first time she’d unchained her feelings from their anchor. She was terrified by her loss of control, yet the constant, depressing weight had lifted from her shoulders. And her headache was gone. She’d released her burden to Liam, and now he carried part of it. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Way overdue.” He snagged bottled water from a cup holder, broke the seal and held it to her lips. “Don’t be embarrassed by your emotions. Your family expects an iron maiden, but you have a right to your feelings. No matter what they are.”
She stared into his eyes, reassured by his warm compassion. What a remarkable man. Capable, self-assured, two hundred percent alpha male, yet unashamed to give tenderness and mercy. She gulped water. “Thank you.” The words seemed so inadequate.
“Anytime.” He gently wiped her damp cheeks with the hem of his T-shirt.
“I’m sorry I bawled all over you.”
“No problem.” His full lips curved into an irrepressible grin. “I was wet anyhow.”
Murphy whined from the backseat, and she half turned. “Does he need to go outside?”
“He whined the entire time you were crying. He knows you’re upset, and he’s upset.”
“No way. Animals don’t understand people’s emotions.”
“Don’t they?” He gestured. “Look at him.”
The dog was curled on the seat with his muzzle between his paws. When she glanced at him, he whimpered. She stared into his liquid brown eyes and could have sworn she saw the same compassion expressed by his owner. How was that possible? Confusion backhanded her. Her gaze fell on the envelope, resting on the seat. “The note!” She gulped. “I don’t want to read it.”
Liam thrust out his hand. “Give it over, Murph.”
Murphy picked up the envelope and delicately placed it on Liam’s outstretched palm. Surprise again winged through her at the depth of the dog’s comprehension. Perhaps she’d underestimated both Liam and his partner.
Liam read the note out loud.
“Katherine, my flower, I’ve hidden bombs in three populated locations. I can detonate them at will. Your policeman will never find or diffuse them all in time.
Play by my rules, and win the photos. No police, no bomb squad, no public notice. Or the photos burn…and people die.
Black and white, the key is in plain sight. One man’s Silver is another’s gold. You have until midnight.”
“Sick bastard! I’ll detonate him at will.” Liam scowled. “Not exactly Ralph Waldo Emerson, is he?”
“I think better on my feet.” She flung open the car door and got out. Her shaky legs barely held her up.
“Likewise. And Murphy needs to stretch.” Liam followed and let Murphy out. “Good boy, Murphy. You found the bomb.” He strode around to the trunk and retrieved a knotted cloth, which he held out to Murphy.
She stepped back as the dog growled fiercely and pulled on the cloth. “What’s he doing?”
“He loves to play tug-of-war. All ‘working dogs’ are trained to do the job for their reward. This is his. Tug it, Murph.” He pulled on the cloth and Murphy yanked back, nearly toppling him. Liam let go and the dog ran on the grass, viciously shaking the toy. Liam pursed his lips. “Black, white and gold could mean the blackjack table at the Golden Nugget.”
She stared at the note, searching for clues before it disintegrated. “Would he put something in such a visible place?”
“I think Whack Job would post a neon ad in the middle of the strip. He craves your attention.” He moved to her side, pointed. “Why is the word Silver capitalized?”
“I didn’t notice that. Good catch.” The paper shriveled, dusted into ashes. “Why would silver be capitalized?”
“A place?”
“There’s a Silver Nugget, but it’s in North Las Vegas. And a Silverstone Golf Club, but this says silver and gold.”
“A name, then.”
“Silver…” Her pulse fluttered. “Long John Silver? The middle of the strip.
Maybe black and white doesn’t represent my photos, maybe it points to the Jolly Roger—the pirate flag!”
Liam nodded. “Gold could mean treasure. Treasure Island.”
Her pulse tripled on a surge of fear-laced adrenaline. “He’s put ‘the key,’ near the pirate flag on the ship, and we have to retrieve it to get my photographs back?”
“One fast way to find out.” He found her phone in the car and dialed. “Con, still at the Venetian? Excellent. Confiscate a pair of binoculars and hightail it to the roof. Then call me back.” He recited her cell number, and hung up.
Five minutes later, the phone rang. These SWAT guys didn’t mess around. “Hey, bro. Look across to Buccaneer Bay, at the pirate ship’s mast. See anything near the flag?” Listening, he tapped his booted foot. His brows rose. “Thanks. Stand by.” He disconnected. “Con says a small plastic packet is dangling from a rope near the top of the mast.”
She held Liam’s calm gaze, struggling not to lose control. “What if the stalker tries to kill us again?”
“That’s a given.” He smirked. “But he’s outnumbered, three to one.”
She reached for his warm, sure hand and held on tight. “Why are you willing to risk your life to help me?”
“There’s a little girl in a hospital who needs a kidney.” He squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “And there’s a woman here who loves her. A woman with heart and strength and courage.”
“I’m not strong. Not brave. You are.” She’d thought herself all cried out, but moisture welled behind her eyes. “And my heart froze solid a long time ago.”
He wrapped his arms around her, enfolding her in warmth. “Bravery isn’t always about bringing down bad guys and disarming bombs.” He kissed her forehead. “Real courage is having the guts to climb out of bed in the morning and say, ‘I’ll start all over again today.’ You resurrected your life after your dreams imploded. That takes heart and strength, Kate.”
She’d thought his compassion and mercy remarkable. His intelligence and insight were amazing. She bit the inside of her cheek. “I can’t take a chance with Aubrey’s life, or on this stalker detonating those bombs. We don’t have a choice. But he said no police, no bomb squad, no publicity. We’ll be on our own.”
“No worries. You have your own personal bomb tech.”
For once, she didn’t hesitate to share her feelings. Liam would understand. Her voice trembled. “I’m scared.”
“Do you think I’m not afraid when I’m faced with a jumble of wires and C4 that could separate my head from my shoulders?” He smoothed her hair. “Damn straight I am. But I can’t let it control me.” Resolve pulsed off him. “Fear is a survival instinct. Accept it. Own it. Use fear to give you the edge.”
She dragged in a deep breath. Acknowledged her fear. Commanded mastery over it. And a miracle happened. Icy terror morphed into blazing fury. It felt wonderful. Empowering. The stalker might force her to play his deranged game, but she was in control of her responses, and he couldn’t take that away.
“Who does he think he is? How dare he play God with Aubrey’s life? With innocent people?” she spat. “He wants a scavenger hunt? Bring it on. We’ll find my photos. Then we’ll send him to prison, where he can play games for the rest of his sorry life. Like hide the soap with Bubba.”
“That’s my girl!” Liam’s deep, wicked laugh made her supremely glad he was on her side. “Take back the power. Then, no matter what he does, we’re playing by our rules.”
She pulled away and glanced at her watch. “The Treasure Island show will be in full swing soon. We have zero time. How do we sneak aboard without being noticed?”
He rubbed his chin. “Know a fast place to rent costumes?”
“I only know of one costume shop and it’s way downtown.”
An ebony brow arched. “We might have to borrow some.”
She groaned. “Why do I have the sinking suspicion that I’m going to hate this plan?”
Outside Madame Tussauds wax museum ten minutes later, Kate’s anxiety spiked. Liam had aborted the campaign to convince the night manager to rent them costumes. The thin, balding supervisor was humor impaired…and definitely not of the female persuasion. A Riverside PD badge hadn’t impressed him. In fact, he’d gotten huffy, and ordered them off the premises.
The Mighty O’Rourke had struck out.
Forced to go in undercover, they mingled with a busload of seniors. Murphy slipped in amongst the throng.
Once inside, no one gave them a second glance. The only perk of the stifling heat, their clothes were mostly dry. Not that it mattered. Tourists were encouraged to “interact” with the exhibits. Kate’s nerves twitched. She and Liam would be interacting more than management anticipated.
Treasure Island was across the strip. With the clock ticking, they’d decided to change on the premises. Liam also hoped the costumes might confuse anyone tailing them.
He assessed the restrooms, located in a central area visible to both the entrance and gift shop. “Divert to Plan B.”
Kate wrinkled her nose. “Exactly what is Plan B?”
“I’ll brief you as soon as I figure it out.”
They rushed ahead of the seniors, and she shot him a dubious glance. “Isn’t ‘borrowing’ a murky area for a cop?”
“Emergency measures. Lives are at stake. We can’t attract attention and risk Psycho burning the photos or detonating bombs. The museum will be reimbursed, no harm, no foul.” Liam jogged past a familiar icon in a white sequin jumpsuit. “The King on a pirate ship? Don’t they have anyone older?”
Dick Clark? Not. “We need to find the right section. She peeked inside a doorway. “Here, in this room!”
Liam glanced around and grinned. “Errol Flynn works for me.” He pointed to a woman in an opulent red silk gown who was being held in the arms of a man standing beside a curtained four-poster bed. “Scarlett O’Hara looks about your size.”
“Not quite the same era.”
“It’s Vegas. Nobody’s going to scrutinize us that closely. “Pardon me, Rhett. Need to borrow your woman for a minute.” Grunting, he flopped Scarlett onto the bed. “Take her dress.”
She started unweaving the intricately laced bodice. “Dear Diary. Tonight, I snuck into Madame Tussauds and stripped Scarlett O’Hara buck naked.” In spite of the tense situation, or perhaps because of it, she giggled. She hadn’t giggled since she was sixteen. “I’d rather do Errol.”
“Now who’s a pervert?” He grinned and dragged Errol over. He untied the blue satin curtains and pulled them shut, creating a makeshift dressing room inside the bed. “Behold, Plan B.”
Murphy sat on guard at the foot while she and Liam climbed inside. They stood upright on the “mattress,” which was a wooden platform draped with bedding.
Her hand circled. “Turn around.”
“Spoilsport.” Smiling, he complied. “I’ve seen you naked, Just Kate.” His voice roughened to a sensual growl. “It’s a beautiful picture I still carry in my head.”
Her pulse leaped, and she lurched, dropped the gown.
Back to back, they undressed. The whisper of discarded clothing and Liam’s soft breathing were unbearably erotic. Even after a dunking, he smelled clean and fresh, and all male. She’d never forgotten how awesome he looked naked, either. Had never forgotten the skill and strength coiled in his lean, powerful muscles. The supple warmth of his skin, dusted with dark hairs. The tenderness of his soft lips and clever tongue. Her abdomen clenched. She gripped the bedpost, overcome by the temptation to whirl around and press her nearly bare body to his.
“You ready?” he asked. “We need to hurry.”
More than ready. He wouldn’t resist. Caught in flagrante delicto by a busload of seniors from Yuma. Wouldn’t that be special? She tossed petticoats over her head, followed by the dress, and fumbled with the bodice back. “Darn these laces.”
“Let me.” He scooped her hair across one shoulder, and his nimble fingers tied the dress closed. “All set.”
She heard him pull the curtain and jump down. She turned and her breath hitched. A sexy pirate from her favorite romance novel awaited her. His tousled hair lent roguish appeal, and dark stubble dusted his cheekbones and framed his delicious mouth. The billowy white shirt open to his narrow waist revealed his spectacular chest and washboard abs. Knee-high black boots anchored strong calves and long legs. Tight brown breeches complete with a red sash tied above his gun belt hugged his muscular thighs. And oh, what those formfitting pants did for the rest of him. He brandished a gleaming sword in one hand. She groped for words with a mouth gone bone-dry. “Holy crow!”
His eyes sparkled. “You look damn fine yourself, Miz Scarlett. Red is a great color on you.” He dropped his sword and lifted her, then spun her around before setting her down.
Dizzy from his nearness, she put a hand on his broad shoulder. She inclined her head at the mannequins on the bed. “We can’t leave nekkid dummies for the seniors to find. Or to tip off management that the costumes are gone.”
“If the seniors are anything like our neighbor, Letty, they might get a kick out of it.”
They arranged the comforter over the dummies. Liam stuffed their street clothes into shopping bags they’d brought. Kate stepped back. Errol and Scarlett lounged nude between the sheets, while Rhett watched from beside the bed. She giggled again. “That is one disturbing little tableau.”
Liam grinned. “Judging by Errol’s satisfied smirk, he should be smoking a cigarette.” He passed her the bags, then kicked his sword airborne and gracefully caught it. A thrilling swashbuckling move out of a Hollywood blockbuster. If she’d had time, she’d have surrendered to the urge to kiss him.
He took her left hand in his. “Let’s make tracks.”
They’d run halfway to the door, when he checked. “Crap!”
The distinct babble of female voices floated nearer. “Ooh, Shirley, I can’t wait to see Errol Flynn. He’s my favorite.”
“Freeze,” Liam whispered. “Murphy, sit!”
