Beyond the Shadows

by LaVerne Clark

  The silence was companionable, one of the things he most appreciated about Kelly. She seemed to know when to push him and when to leave him the hell alone. Or maybe, his blatant comment had freaked her out. She’d hardly touched her meal. The food he’d just placed in his mouth turned to ash at the thought, and he snatched up his drink to wash it down. He stole a glance at her over the rim of the glass to find her direct blue gaze already on him. His gut clenched. She didn’t look freaked out. She looked—soft. And inviting. And—oh, hell.

  He pushed his plate away and stood up suddenly. Then he wished he hadn’t. The few bites of frittata sat uneasily in his stomach. His head grew dizzy and his sight fuzzed around the edges. Reaching out, he grasped the table to steady himself and the sound of cutlery clattered in his ears.

  An arm snaked around his waist and her voice scolded softly in his ear. “You need to stop pushing yourself, Nate. Your strength will come back in time.”

  She led him towards the couch where he collapsed and closed his eyes, his breath coming in ragged pants as he struggled to keep the nausea at bay. His fists clenched and he growled in frustration.

  “Go easy on yourself. You have come back from the dead, after all.”

  His eyes snapped open at her choice of words. They reminded him of his strange dream and the visitation in the bathroom. As much as he’d like to believe that really had been Thea and not a figment of his imagination, his rational mind struggled to accept it. What did that say about his mental health? With a grunt, he pulled himself into a sitting position and stared at his partner as she sat across from him. “Tell me what happened, Kelly. The last thing I remember is the bullet hitting me and crumpling. How did we get out of there alive?”

  Emotions flitted across her face. Remembered fear, rage and—he frowned, puzzled—embarrassment. She’d always been an open book, her thoughts clearly expressed on her lovely features. He’d often wondered if she was too soft to be in such a cynical job. Maybe it explained why the Sergeant had paired them up. Classic good cop, bad cop. Or maybe he’d hoped some of her goodness would rub off on him. His mouth twitched at the thought.

  “What the hell were you thinking jumping the gun like that?”

  He smiled, recognizing the diversion tactic. She had learned a thing or two from him, after all. He didn’t think that’s what the Sergeant had planned on though.

  “It’s not funny,” she fumed. “You almost died.” Her voice broke on the last word.

  He sobered instantly, his gaze sharpening on the slight quiver to her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Kelly. And even sorrier for putting you in danger like that. It was stupid of me.”

  She let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah. It was.”

  His eyes sought hers. “I’d still like to know what happened.”

  She shrugged, broke eye contact, and looked down at her hands. “I don’t remember much myself. Everything happened in a blur.”

  She was lying. And there was that flicker of embarrassment again. Interesting. But why? He prodded a bit more. “What about the cameraman?”

  “That guy,” she spat, her brows pulled down in a scowl. “The asshole kept rolling the bloody camera instead of running to get help. It was as if all his wet-dreams happened at once.” She paused and her nostrils flared as she sucked in deep draughts of air. Finally, she nodded as if coming to a decision. “They’re playing the footage in a special show of Cops tomorrow night. I’ve been fielding calls from them for days now and trying to convince them not to show it, to no avail.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “They’ve got the okay from the sergeant, so they don’t need my permission.”

  “How did they wangle that?”

  “Apparently, he’s been featured throughout the segment.”

  “Huh. That’ll do it. Oh, well. Sounds like it’ll make good TV. I hope they got my good side.”

  “How can you be flippant about this?”

  Nate shrugged, wincing slightly at the pull on tender skin. “I’m alive. And people are curious beasts. Where’s the harm?”

  Kelly stood and turned to him in white-lipped anger. “Where’s the harm?” Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper, her eyes shards of ice as she advanced on him. “We are going to look like morons. The camera caught everything.” She placed her hands both sides of his head and leaned forward. “Everything,” she enunciated slowly through her teeth. “First, you leap out of the car to confront them like some great big action hero, while I sit twiddling my thumbs and fretting like a dumb blonde. Like the script so far?”

  Her scent came at him in waves. He froze and willed his body to do the same. That damned vanilla made him think of creamy sweetness that led to thoughts of parts of her body where the sun didn’t shine. He could barely concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth. All he could think of was where he wanted that mouth.

  “Then, the camera’s beady eye zooms in on me,” she continued, “while I try to act like your actions are normal, and then the gun goes off. I don’t think the boss will enjoy seeing what the camera saw that day, and I sure as hell don’t want to relive it.”

  Temper sharpened her gaze. “Are you even listening to me?”

  “You might want to back off,” he warned in a strained voice.

  “Oh, might I? And why would that be?”

  Nate looked down. The top of her dress stretched tight over her heaving chest, the position affording him a glorious view of cleavage. The peaks of her breasts were so close, if he took a deep breath, they’d brush against him. It took everything in him to take shallow breaths even as his tongue salivated at the thought of exploring the lush valley under the material. And who knew what he’d do then. She followed his gaze, and he heard her stifle a gasp. When she didn’t move away, his body hardened to the point of pain.

  She lifted her head and another rush of blood went straight to his cock. Her pupils had dilated, her eyes darkened to midnight blue and a slow, feline smile stretched her generous mouth. “Why would I do that?” she repeated in a soft drawl.

  “Because you might not like my reaction,” he growled, mindful to keep his breathing shallow.

  Slowly, she lowered her head and allowed her body to drop closer until they were just a sliver apart. “But what if I do?”

  Need ripped through him and without further thought, he shifted his knees wider, bringing her flush against his length. She groaned softly and his control snapped. Reaching out with graceless fingers, he snagged her hair, his fingers pulling on the tie holding it back. Blonde silk cascaded forward, the fragrant tresses shielding them from outside distractions. His hands bunched in the cool strands, delighting in the warmth of her scalp under his palm, and impatiently he tugged her towards him.

  The phone rang, jarring them out of the sensual haze. Kelly’s eyes flew open, millimeters from his and stared at him in what looked like horror. She backed off, forcing his hand to drop from her head.

  “Kelly,” he groaned, his hand beseeching the air. At the shake to her head, he let it drop and watched as she walked on stiff legs to silence the shrill instrument.

  Her low, melodious voice answered then turned sharp and abrupt before slamming the handset down. Within seconds, it rang again and she bent down and deftly popped the cord out of the wall.

  She turned and strode back to him, all traces of the soft, sensual woman gone. “Media. Wanting an exclusive.” Her mouth tightened and she rolled her shoulders as if to loosen them. “We need to arrange a press release. With this documentary showing tomorrow, they’ll all want a piece of you. It won’t be anything as civilized as today’s showing at the hospital.”

  Nate rested his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “God. Can’t they leave well enough alone? It was bad enough having that damned cameraman hanging around before all this.”

  Kelly perched on the end of the couch. “I’ll call the sergeant and ask him to arrange the press release. I’ll record a new message on your machine stating all enquiries are to go to him, and we’
ll let the machine get the calls. You’re not alone in this, Nate.”

  “Thanks, Kelly. I appreciate it.” Nate glanced at the wall clock and stifled a yawn. Nine o’clock and he felt ready for bed like a child. He rose from the couch and excused himself.

  Kelly caught the smothered attempt and offered him a soft smile. “You look knackered. Let me help you.” She stepped close, her hand at his waist as if to steady him.

  Just that fleeting touch reignited the embers he thought he’d banked. “I’m not an invalid you know,” he snapped, his nerves stretched.

  Kelly recoiled, the smile fleeing from her face. Flags of color sat high on her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “It’ll take me a little while to adjust to the fact you’re not so helpless anymore. I didn’t mean to infer you’re incapable.”

  Nate’s gut clenched at her wounded expression. God, he was such an ungrateful bastard. “No. I’m sorry,” he offered gruffly. “But what are you doing here, Kelly? It’s a Friday night and you’re young and beautiful. You should be out enjoying this night with a date, not looking after a grumpy old man like me.”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth parted slightly. It took a few seconds before she answered. “You’re obviously seeing something most men don’t then Nate.” He caught an underlying note of hurt before she breezed on, “And enough of the young. I’m twenty-six, only five years younger than you are. And when a friend needs me, I’m going to be there for them. You got a problem with that?”

  “No,” he conceded and put an arm over her shoulder to prove it, steeling himself for the zing of lust that shot to his groin at the contact with her smooth skin. “But I’ve never had to rely on someone else before. I’ve always looked after myself. It’s going to take some adjusting to.”

  Kelly nodded and led him down the hallway. He bit the inside of his cheek as their hips bumped. The muscles in her shoulders tensed, proving she wasn’t entirely comfortable, either.

  Upon reaching his room, she ducked out from under his arm and helped ease him down on the edge of the bed. Toeing his shoes off, he bent to peel off his socks and straightened quickly with a hiss as a jolt of pain sliced into the gunshot wound.

  “I’ll do it,” she offered and squatted down to attend to the task. His eyes lit on the crown of her head, the strangely intimate act sending bolts of longing through his groin. God. How was he going to handle another week of this?

  She lifted her chin, her gaze direct and oblivious to his thoughts. “Would you like some help getting undressed?”

  His breath caught in his throat and his cock throbbed at the images that rushed through his head. While she was no doubt thinking practically, his were purely carnal thoughts.

  He came back to the present with a jerk when she tugged on his big toe and tickled the arch of his foot. He cleared his throat. “Uh, no. I can manage.”

  “Good.” She stood and stretched her back. “I’m exhausted myself. Once I’ve talked to the sergeant, I’ll be hitting the sack too.”

  For the first time, Nate noticed the blue shadows under her eyes and the faint worry lines on her smooth brow. Concern for him had put them there. He needed to start making it up to her. “I really appreciate all you’re doing for me, Kelly.”

  She paused in the doorway and smiled. “It’s my pleasure, Nate. I’m just so glad you’re back with us. Those six days you were elsewhere were the worst of my life. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Night.”

  His eyes travelled without conscious thought to her bottom as she left the room and he curled his hands into fists at his sides. She is not for you, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time, but he was getting mightily sick of listening to that voice. With a sigh, he rose gingerly from the bed and padded across to the bathroom to prepare for a restless night.

  ****

  Kelly hung up the phone with a wry smile. As she’d thought, the sergeant was thrilled to have the media diverted to him. She was more than happy with the arrangement. Now, she could concentrate on getting Nate better so she could get out of his hair. The near kiss had left her shaken. Their relationship had taken a sudden and unexpected turn, and regardless of how much she’d always wanted him, it wouldn’t be a good thing. Not for her anyway. Sleeping with him would never be enough. She’d want more, he wouldn’t, and it would end with her having her heart broken.

  From the first glimpse of him at the station, she’d noted he kept himself distant from the others. Singularly focused on work, he didn’t seem to need the companionship and camaraderie of his peers, didn’t join in telling the raucous jokes that made the grim reality of their jobs more bearable. He hardly ever cracked a smile. If she hadn’t been watching him so closely and seen the occasional glimpse of sadness in his eyes when he thought no one was looking, she would have written him off as someone to stay far away from. But she’d been haunted by the show of vulnerability and curious. Then that curiosity morphed into a wild attraction she had no hope of controlling.

  The shower shut off and, moments later, she heard faint sounds of him brushing his teeth. She picked up the remote and surfed the channels, pretending interest in case he popped out before bed. He was exhausted and she figured if he thought she was going to bed soon, he would be more likely to also. The man’s pride knew no bounds. Anyone could see how precariously balanced he was towards collapse. But his energy, drive, and determination kept him going. Even while she cursed his stubbornness, she admired him for it. Those traits were a large part of what drew her to him.

  An image on the screen dragged her attention back and she was glad she didn’t have to pretend interest. Acting had never been her strong suit.

  “Typical cop,” she snorted, noting she’d come across a news channel. “Why do I not get distracted by some silly sitcom instead? I’m sure it’s much healthier.” She shook her head at her fascination with the macabre. The grin faded from her face as she realized there was something disturbingly familiar about the image that had caught her eye.

  She frowned, squinting and then gasped. The anchor, a beautifully made-up woman fronted the desk. Her face was arranged in a serious expression, but that wasn’t what had caught her attention. It was the square of frozen footage above the woman’s shoulder. The scene struck her as all too familiar. When it unfroze and increased to full screen, it became all too obvious why. She increased the volume and sat transfixed, her stomach churning as the story unfolded.

  And in breaking news. Another body was discovered today with mutilation marks similar to those on the victims of Scott Williams, the man dubbed the Mortician Murderer. Do we have a copycat killer out there, or was Scott Williams, in fact, innocent of murder as he’d vehemently pleaded in court? Did the police make a terrible mistake in their quest for justice?

  Kelly’s blood ran cold, her body frozen in denial. She pressed her hand hard over her mouth. This particular case still haunted her. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she held it in for a count of ten seconds before letting it out. Her mind cleared, allowing her to examine the situation with logic.

  She checked the channel. It was one of the smaller news stations. No doubt, they exaggerated some of the facts in order to win more viewers. And there had been nothing bigger than the capture of the serial killer who had gripped a nation with terror. What better way to increase their nightly ratings?

  Unable to watch anymore, she pressed record on the remote. Once her mind stopped racing, she wanted to be able to watch it again, to take in the significance of things she may have missed during the first viewing. And to look at the case with fresh eyes, a voice in the back of her mind whispered.

  As far as on the job training went, Kelly’s first taste of being a front-line officer couldn’t have been tougher or more exciting. From day one, she’d been thrust into one of the country’s biggest murder cases, and an active one to boot. Instead of being stuck behind a desk typing up her partner’s reports, she’d been in the thick of it, lending a hand where she could, and trying to hel
p stop a madman’s reign of terror from escalating.

  The whole city had been wrapped in a web of fear while the vicious and bizarre murders occurred, seemingly at random. No pattern emerged, meaning the team hadn’t been able to preempt the killer no matter how many man-hours they put into the case. And he liked to bide his time making it more difficult to track his movements. His intelligent actions made him all the more terrifying.

  When the damning photos of Scott Williams outside the victim’s house appeared in the station’s inbox, suddenly they had a breakthrough and a suspect. His behavior made horrendous sense. A funeral director would feel at home with the dead, could spend time gloating over his kills. And that seemed to be exactly what he’d done.

  Once he’d been taken in for questioning, his possessions were seized and examined in minute detail for further evidence. It didn’t take the computer specialists long to find and open the suspect’s wacky website. The authorities tracked down his online friends, interviewed them, and also charged them with their own transgressions. Although each man was interviewed separately, not one believed Williams was capable of the murders. The common opinion was that he genuinely seemed to care for the corpses in his charge.

  Kelly shivered as the memory of the photographs flashed behind her eyes. A grinning Williams clinked champagne filled glasses with a corpse sitting across a table from him, his hand wrapped around her dead flesh to help hold it up. Another of him sitting in a makeshift movie theatre with two corpses, either side of him, a paper bag filled with popcorn sitting on his lap as if sharing with good buddies. There was no forgetting the one that creeped her out the most. A woman, murdered during late pregnancy was posed on a couch, her hands cradling her giant belly as if in a moment of reflective wonderment.

  She swallowed down the tears as the image haunted her again. That one had kept her up too many nights. More times than she could count, she’d wake drenched in sweat from a recurring nightmare featuring her. In her private hell, the woman came to life and lifted her head to stare at her with the opaque, lifeless stare only the dead could master, but then she’d open her mouth, and the most unearthly howl of pain would echo in her brain.