by Brenda Novak
“This is interesting, don’t you think?”
She grimaced. “I think it’s sick.”
“It is sick, but if this guy was pulled over, like he claims, there’d be a record of it somewhere, right? Maybe the police can use his driver’s license and registration to catch him. If they can come up with his name and the city he’s from, they can contact family members and friends to see if they’ve heard from him. They can also learn more about his personal habits, which can only help them narrow the search, right?”
“God, I hope so,” she replied.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING was Sunday. The weather had cooled a few degrees despite the advent of July, bringing a slight reprieve from the stifling heat. Because Nick was home with her and she felt as safe as she could be under the circumstances, Maggie had the back windows open as well as the front. Zach was still at Mrs. Gruber’s, but Maggie knew he’d be home soon and was enjoying the last of her time alone with Nick.
“Thank goodness for those Delta breezes,” she said, getting up from where they’d been relaxing on the couch together, she still in her nightie and he in a pair of pajama bottoms, to check on the coffee brewing in the kitchen. “Too bad it won’t stay this way for long.”
“We’re not going to have to worry about it,” he said above the rattle of the newspaper as he turned the pages. “I’m having air conditioning installed this week.”
Surprised, Maggie pivoted to face him. “You are? But that’s expensive—”
“I know how much it costs.” He looked up from his paper and smiled at her, and Maggie felt something wonderful and warm fill her whole being. Nothing affected her more positively than his smile. It made her want to hold him and tell him how much she loved him. But she was afraid such a declaration would only frighten him away.
At least a two-thousand-dollar investment on his part gave her hope that he planned to stay with her. For a while, anyway.
Determined not to ruin the aftermath of their second night of lovemaking, Maggie pushed her insecurities to the back of her mind. She headed into the kitchen, where she poured them each a cup of coffee before returning to snuggle up with Nick. He put his arm around her and drew her closer, kissing the top of her head, and she realized that if not for Dr. Dan, she would’ve been happier than she’d ever been in her life. But the killer’s threat cast a pall over her sense of well-being. There was a constant, inescapable tension; her eyes flicked to the window every time she heard a noise outside.
“Don’t you think I can take care of you, Maggie?” Nick asked, watching her.
Maggie put a hand on his bare chest and caressed the appealing contour of muscle she found there. “I don’t doubt you. I just…” She took a deep breath. “I’ll just be uneasy until he’s caught, that’s all. Maybe we should get out of the house, go somewhere fun for the day, just you, me and Zach.”
He frowned. “I’d love to, babe, but I can’t. Not today.”
“You’re not going back to the paper, are you?” she asked.
“No, but I have other things to do.”
What “other” things? Certainly not another wedding. If so, he had to be the busiest wedding photographer she’d ever met, which didn’t seem likely.
Maggie felt the hooks of her insecurity dig a little deeper. Nick was gone an awful lot. Now that they were lovers, she hoped that would change. But he didn’t seem any more inclined to stick around today than he had a week earlier. Was it possible he was still seeing his ex-girlfriend?
Maggie didn’t even want to think about that. Especially because he hadn’t done anything to make her distrust him. He’d been loving and kind and supportive. She owed him the benefit of the doubt, didn’t she?
“I’ll have more time soon,” he promised when she didn’t say anything. “Hey, what about that box from John? Aren’t you ever going to open it?”
“You don’t mind if I do?” Part of Maggie wanted him to say yes—a large part. The jealousy she’d witnessed over Brian had helped convince her that Nick cared about her. But his complete indifference to John undermined her confidence.
“I’m fine with it,” he said. “Go ahead.”
Maybe Nick didn’t feel threatened because John lived out of state and was only a screen name at this point, Maggie thought. Or maybe he was just more confident in her feelings for him than she was in his feelings for her. There was no way to tell, but John had given her permission to keep the present, and Nick had given her the okay to open it, so she wasn’t going to deprive herself. Retrieving the brown box she’d seen in the front room, she sat down in the chair across from the couch and ripped off the covering.
Nick looked on, still smiling as she pulled out a white cotton sundress and a travel brochure on Cancun, Mexico.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
Maggie checked the label in the dress and was surprised to find that John had purchased her exact size. “I love it, but what do you think the travel brochure is about?”
“He was probably planning to take you to Mexico. But now, I guess I’ll have to do it.” He set the paper aside and came to her, kissing her long and deep. “Try it on for me,” he said.
Maggie went to her bedroom to change, laughing when she saw that Nick was following her.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Think I might need help with the buttons?”
He grinned. “I’m available for whatever you might need.”
Maggie slipped off her nightie, trying not to turn away or blush at the low whistle Nick gave when she stood before him naked.
“Now this is a sight I’ll never get tired of,” he said. “You’re beautiful, Maggie. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman.”
Moving close, he slid his hands up over the curve of her hips to her breasts, then helped her pull the dress on over her head. Sleeveless, with a loose neck that gathered and tied, it fell to just above her ankles.
“It’s perfect. I want to photograph you in this dress,” he said. “On the beach.”
“Let’s go there now,” she said. “Half Moon Bay is only a three-hour drive. We could stay for a few days.”
He ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair. “Would you really leave town today?”
Maggie considered his question, tempted, then shook her head. “No, I wish I could, but Ben is counting on me to follow the Dr. Dan story to its conclusion. That’s what a good journalist would do. And I’m determined to be a good journalist. I’m just hoping it’ll all end soon—and that I’ll be around to write the final article.”
“You’ll be here,” Nick promised. “But not for long, because after Dr. Dan’s caught and we can both get some time off, I’m going to take you away for a week.”
It could be their honeymoon, Maggie told herself, wondering if Nick had thought about marriage half as many times as she had. She wanted to be his lover, his companion, his wife, and have more children—his children. She wanted Zach to have a father and siblings. But most of all, she wanted to know Nick loved her as deeply as she loved him.
The front door banged open and Maggie heard her son’s voice. “Mommy, we’re home!”
Rambo barked and met Maggie and Nick in the hallway before they could reach the living room. Zach and Mrs. Gruber came in behind the dog.
“You’re not the only one who has a secret admirer,” her neighbor announced, holding a box in one hand.
Maggie lifted her eyebrows. “How nice. Someone sent you a gift?”
“Yep. Left this box on my porch. And you’ll never believe what’s inside.” Mrs. Gruber lifted the lid and pulled out a pair of bikini panties. “Pretty, aren’t they? Not that they’re anything close to my style. But I’m thinking this admirer is so secret, he doesn’t even know what I look like. Or he got the wrong porch.”
I know the color of your sheets. I know where you keep your underwear…
Maggie felt the blood drain from her face. “If he got the wrong porch, he meant to,” she said. “Those belong to me. Dr. Dan’s tryi
ng to tell me he’s been inside my house.”
NICK COULD HEAR James Jenson, the detective from Seattle, rattling papers on the other end of the line as he sat in his truck at a stoplight en route to his apartment. It had been difficult to leave Maggie and Zach in the care of the police officers watching their house today, but he knew he couldn’t stay with them. He still had a job to do.
“I called the Colorado police and got the license plate numbers of everyone pulled over on March third, the day Jeannie Savoy was killed,” Detective Jensen said. “But none were registered to a blue Geo Metro. And none of the drivers matched the description we have of Dr. Dan.”
Gunning the accelerator as the light turned green, Nick bit back a curse. He’d thought the Fillmore letters would provide him with the link he needed to bring down this killer. Instead, the investigation had just reached another dead end. Dr. Dan must’ve been lying about being pulled over. Maybe that was why Lola hadn’t printed anything about it in the paper. She might have checked his facts and found them lacking in validity. But dammit! What was Nick going to do now? The underwear Dr. Dan had delivered to Mrs. Gruber was meant as a message. He wanted Maggie. He wanted her to know it. And despite the protection she had from the police, Nick feared Dr. Dan would get to her in an unguarded moment. Or, if he couldn’t get to Maggie, Nick felt sure he’d kill someone else. Dr. Dan’s crimes were acts of rage. If Maggie wasn’t going to bear the brunt of it, someone else would. Which meant Nick couldn’t sit back and wait for Dr. Dan to come to him. He had to solve this case. And he had to do it fast.
“So now what?” Jenson was asking.
“You sure you followed up on all the clues he said the Colorado police missed?” Nick asked, stalling for time to think as he signaled and switched lanes in the light Sunday traffic. They’d already been over this. Jenson had assured him he’d left no stone unturned, but Nick felt they had to be missing…something.
“I was completely thorough,” Jenson said. “I had Lola’s article, the one she wrote from his letter, as a guide.”
Nick rubbed his chin. Why would Dr. Dan claim he’d been pulled over if that wasn’t true? Was it an outright lie? Or was it merely an exaggeration? “Okay, he said in the letter that he had blood all over him when he was stopped, but a police officer would probably have spotted that right away. What if there was no visible blood? What if he had a body in his trunk, instead? Or what if he was pulled over a day or two after the killing, while he was still in the same area? What do you think? Is it possible?”
“Hell, anything’s possible. Worth a shot, at any rate. You want me to run the plates of all cars that were pulled over in Boulder March 4th and 5th?”
“Go up to a week on either side, if you have to. If you find a blue Geo Metro or a driver matching Dr. Dan’s description, let me know immediately. The task force I’m working with here have their hands full interviewing Marge Brown’s friends and neighbors, but you can connect with them if you can’t reach me.”
“You got it, boss. I’ll be back in touch,” Jenson said and hung up.
Nick entered the parking lot of his apartment building, found his space and cut the engine. He was just getting out when his cell phone rang again. This time he didn’t recognize the number on his caller ID.
“Nick Sorenson.”
“Nick? This is Darla.”
“What’s up, Darla?” he asked, locking his truck.
“I want to talk to you about Maggie.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t really know how to say this, but she’s…sensitive and kind, and she’s already been through hell with her ex-husband. We’ve been best friends ever since she came to Sacramento, so I know her pretty well.”
Nick frowned as he let himself into his apartment. “Where are you going with this, Darla?”
“I’m just saying I know you two have become close, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
Neither did Nick. Unfortunately, considering the situation, the odds weren’t really in Maggie’s favor. Or his, for that matter. When she learned the truth, it would probably destroy all her trust in him—in them—and what relationship could survive without trust? “So you’re looking for a promise?”
“I’m looking for something that tells me you really care about her.”
“I care, Darla,” he admitted, “but my life’s a bit confusing right now. Until things straighten out, we’re just going to have to take it one day at a time.”
Darla paused. Then she muttered, “Hurt her and I’ll…I’ll egg your truck.”
NICK STRETCHED and yawned before slumping back over the files spread out on the desk at his apartment. Working all night with Maggie and loving her all morning had left little time for sleep. Now that he’d been up most of the day, as well as all night, he was beginning to feel the effects. But he had to come up with something that would nail Dr. Dan, and he was determined to dig through every single fact he’d amassed on this case until he did.
His cell phone rang, and he scrubbed his face with one hand before answering. Maybe he should give himself fifteen minutes to rest. A power nap might make all the difference…if only he didn’t see that bikini underwear every time he closed his eyes and feel the clock ticking away. Every minute he lost was one more minute Dr. Dan had to plot his attack on Maggie.
“Hello?”
“Hi, gorgeous.”
Nick smiled at the sound of Maggie’s voice, wishing he could be with her. He wanted to see her, have dinner with her, hold her in his arms. “How’s my girl?” he asked.
“Lonely. And bored. I haven’t left the house for fear Dr. Dan will follow me. I certainly don’t want to make things easy for him. So I’ve stayed put and vacuumed and dusted and made lasagna for dinner, and Zach and I have finger-painted and collected ants for his ant farm from the backyard. But now I need a nap and know you must be just as exhausted. Are you ever coming home?”
“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he said, “but I don’t know for sure when that’ll be. Are you going in to the office tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll be there to take you. How did Ben like your last article?”
“He was happy with it. He’s already told me I’m getting a raise. And he said that the way I’ve handled the Dr. Dan stories has boosted his confidence in me. So when the question of an exclusive comes up again, I’ll have a lot more credibility.”
“That’s progress, babe.”
“Yeah. It beats the heck out of writing for a tabloid and feeling ashamed of what I’m doing.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
He could hear Zach in the background begging for the phone. “Let him talk,” he said, logging on to the Internet just as Zach’s voice came over the line.
“Hi, Nick. Is this-s-s Nick?” Zach asked.
“That’s right, buddy. It’s me. Are you and your mom having fun?”
“I want to play bas-s-s-ketball,” he said. “Will you play bas-s-s-ketball with me?”
Nick saw that John had a message waiting from Maggie and clicked on it while he talked. “We’ll play a game when I get home, okay?”
“When are you coming home?”
“Soon.”
“Before bedtime?”
“I hope so. If not, we’ll play tomorrow.”
“But I want to do it now.”
Nick chuckled. “So do I, except I’ve got work to do. Is Rambo behaving himself?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you feed him his dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Let me talk to Mommy again.”
“Huh?”
“Let me talk to Mommy.”
“Okay.”
There was the sound of some telephone bobbling, then Maggie said, “I’ll let you go.”
“See you soon.”
“Wait. Have you eaten any lunch?” she asked.
He hadn’t. He’d gone straight to the apartment and spent most of the
day there. He was as hungry as he was tired, and judging by Maggie’s question he knew he didn’t sound his best, but he wasn’t letting Dr. Dan elude him any longer. “I’m okay.”
There was a long pause. Finally, “You’re not with Shelley, are you?”
Nick was so immersed in her message to John, a warm friendly thank-you for the dress and for his understanding, that at first he didn’t recognize the name. “Who?” he asked.
“Shelley. Your ex-girlfriend.”
Oh, that Shelley. Snapping out of his preoccupation, Nick cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “No. Of course not. No. I’m at a wedding.”
“Pretty quiet for a wedding.”
“The band’s taking a break.”
She paused. “You’re going to lose your job at the paper, you know that?”
“Let me worry about my job at the paper.”
“Okay,” she said, but when she hung up, Nick wasn’t sure he’d convinced her of anything. So he poured the tenderness he was feeling into John’s reply to her message, then got back to work.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“LOOK AT THIS,” Maggie said to Darla, who was painting her toenails in Maggie’s bathroom. Zach was playing on her bed with his Power Rangers, and Rambo lay at her feet, yawning and gazing up at her every time she spoke. The blinds were drawn against the darkness—and anything else lurking outside—but Maggie wasn’t going to bed. She’d traded Jorge Friday for Sunday. In another hour, she had to get ready for work.
“Look at what?” Darla said, hobbling out of the bathroom so she wouldn’t smudge her fresh paint.
The odor of nail polish came with her. Maggie wrinkled her nose and said, “This message from John. He’s got to be the nicest guy in the world. Do you think I’m crazy for giving him up?”
As Darla studied the computer screen, Maggie read his words again.
Dear Maggie—
I’m glad you liked the dress. I can easily imagine it on you. I still have your pictures all around my apartment. Sometimes I just sit and stare at them and think about you. You’re beautiful and sexy and everything I want in a woman. And I’ve been thinking…you once asked me if I minded that you have a son. I’ve never minded, but now I see Zach as a positive thing. I already love him, just because he’s such a part of you.
