Sweet Dreams Boxed Set

by Brenda Novak

  Her shoulders stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.” She closed her laptop, not wanting him to see her search. “Are the security installers done?”

  “Yeah, you’re good to go. They’re waiting to show you how the system works.”

  She stood and hurried around her desk.

  Hugh didn’t move. “You think I don’t feel guilty, too?”

  “This isn’t about our guilt.”

  “Of course, it is. You’re trying to save the world because you think it can make up for what he did. But you can’t save everyone, Ivy. And, after last night, I think we just need to focus on saving you.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “I don’t need saving.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Hugh…”

  “I know about the cases you’ve taken. Did you even get paid for them?”

  No, not all but—

  “You’ve been walking a dangerous line for years, and it’s got to stop. If it doesn’t, you’re going to get hurt.”

  Her breath heaved out. “I didn’t go looking for this case, all right? I saw that woman die. I just wanted to help her.”

  Hugh was so much taller than she was. “Who will help you, though, Ivy? If you’re caught alone in the dark again with that SOB, who will be there for you?”

  She didn’t have an answer for him. Bennett wasn’t going to be her partner, and for all of her other cases, well, she’d been working them on her own.

  “The danger is too much. Hell, I don’t like this shit. Not one bit.” His breath rushed out. “Maybe I should move in and stay for a while. Until the PD catches this guy. You don’t need to be alone—”

  “I wasn’t alone after the attack at the convention center. Bennett was here.”

  Hugh’s face hardened. “He’s no good for you, Ivy. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “You can tell me a thousand times, but it won’t matter.” She didn’t pull her punches with Hugh. “Bennett and I aren’t done.” Even though he’d royally pissed her off at the ME’s office. “You need to accept that.”

  “So is he going to be here tonight, is he going to be here with you, every night, until that killer is behind bars?”

  “I don’t know what he plans.” She stepped around him. “All I know is that I have to see some men about an alarm…”

  ***

  Hugh watched his sister walk away. Ivy didn’t get it. She couldn’t fix the world, even though he knew that was exactly what she’d been trying to do for far too long.

  He’d always known that Ivy was the good twin. The one who looked out at the world and hoped.

  While he…

  I know exactly what I am. And it’s not good.

  If he found the jerk who’d terrorized his sister in that hallway last night, the guy wasn’t going to make it to the inside of a jail cell. No one hurt his family and gets away scot-free.

  No one.

  It was a lesson that he thought Bennett Morgan had learned years ago.

  ***

  “You’re going back with him. Aren’t you?”

  Ivy glanced over at Cameron. He’d arrived at her house just as the security installers had left. And since then, he’d been pacing around like a caged tiger, the energy seeming to roll off him.

  “Cameron…”

  “Bennett Morgan is no good for you.”

  So she kept being told. Even though she didn’t remember asking what anyone else thought of Bennett.

  Cameron moved to stand in front of her bay window. “I would have given you anything you wanted. You should have stayed with me.”

  Oh, no. No, no, no. They couldn’t be back to this. Ivy jumped to her feet and hurried toward him. Then…then she couldn’t touch him. Fear held her back. I don’t want to hurt him. “Cameron, you know I love you.”

  He looked back at her. His lips had twisted. “Like a friend.”

  “No, more than that. Like family. You matter to me, so much.”

  His gaze lowered.

  “I’m not in love with you, Cameron, and you’re not in love with me.” She knew that with certainty. The guy had a new flavor of the week always waiting in the wings. “I think we heard too many people tell us that we should be together when we were younger, but we weren’t right that way. We didn’t fit.”

  “Not the way you fit with Bennett.”

  Bennett infuriated her. He drove her to the edge and…

  Yes, when she was with him, she still felt like she fit.

  The connection between her and Bennett had been so strong—from the very beginning—and maybe it had even scared her a little. Am I supposed to give so much of myself to him?

  She had. Too late, she’d realized that she’d given Bennett everything.

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Now Cameron sounded grim. “But that’s going to happen, Ivy. You will be hurt.”

  “Things are different.”

  “Yes, they are.” He marched around her and picked up his coat. “I think I’ll get out of town for a bit. Maybe spend some time at the beach house.”

  She hurried after him. “Cameron…” She’d been clear with him, for years, and for this to come back up now…

  He looked back at her. “I think it’s time I put that particular dream to bed. I saw the way you looked at him. And I saw the way he looked back at you. The past isn’t over.”

  Then he was striding toward the door. She followed him out onto the porch and watched as he jumped into his SUV and drove away. Ivy didn’t immediately go back inside. She stood there, aching, so sad that she’d caused Cameron pain.

  Things would have been easier, if she had been able to lose herself with him. But that hadn’t happened. And she’d known it wouldn’t be right to use him.

  He deserved more.

  So do I.

  She could hear the sound of the parade, drifting in the air. It was Saturday night—more floats would be filling the streets, and the boom of drum beats echoed around her. That sound used to soothe her, but it didn’t anymore. She tensed, her heart raced faster. Her arms wrapped around her stomach as she listened to those sounds. The bands were marching. The crowd cheering.

  Was the killer out there again? Hiding in that crowd. Watching everyone?

  A car turned down her street. She tensed for a moment, but then recognized the vehicle. Ivy didn’t move from her positon as Bennett parked near the curb. He exited quickly, and hurried toward her.

  He looked big. Strong. Dangerous. Typical Bennett.

  The exact opposite of Cameron. In so many ways.

  She’d been doing some digging on him since their last little meeting. Digging on him and the other potential victims. Nothing she’d learned had been particularly reassuring.

  In fact, it had been quite the opposite.

  He stopped at the foot of her porch and stared up at her. “Your new alarm system won’t do you much good if you’re outside.”

  “And staying locked away for the rest of my life won’t do me a whole lot of good either.”

  His lips hitched into a half-smile. “Touché.”

  She didn’t smile back. “Is there a reason for this little visit?”

  “Yeah, I wanted to check on you.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have to be watched twenty-four hours a day.”

  He put his foot on the bottom step. “Maybe you shouldn’t be too sure about that.”

  She tried to read his expression. The light from her porch spilled onto him. “What did you learn?”

  “I talked with Evette’s family. They said she’d hooked up with a man she called Robert Adderly—they met about a week ago at a ball. Evette seemed to fall hard for the guy, and she told her mother he was perfect. Smart, handsome, rich.”

  Ivy waited.

  “Only the mother—and none of Evette’s friends—actually met Robert. And when I tried to do a search on the guy, I couldn’t find him. At least, not a guy matching that description. I did find one Robert Adderly living in M
obile, but he’s an eighty-eight year old gentlemen currently residing in a nursing facility.”

  “So you think that her lover gave her a false name.”

  “I think he fed her plenty of lies. I think he got close to her, he enjoyed her, used her, and when he was done…”

  No defensive wounds.

  “She never even had a chance to fight,” Bennett said.

  Ivy rubbed her arms. “And the others that Dr. Battiste mentioned? Did they have mystery men in their lives, too?” She already knew this part, though.

  “You tell me,” he invited.

  Uh, oh…

  “Because Fiona Hargrave—she was the woman found in Mobile about two years ago—her mother said that she talked with an investigator today. A woman who wanted to know about the men in Fiona’s life.”

  Ivy shrugged. “Guilty.”

  He climbed another step. They were on eye level now. “You know that Fiona also had a lover, one that her family never met. A man who called himself William Walker.”

  She nodded.

  “The victim in New Orleans had a lover, too. Her family didn’t meet him.”

  There was no missing that pattern.

  “No lover showed for any of the funerals,” Bennett added. “The guy just vanished when the women turned up dead.”

  “Of course, he vanished,” she said, speaking softly, “he was done with them.” He’d already moved on to someone new…just like he did with me. Evette’s body had barely been cold, and he’d already been tormenting Ivy. Only… “He didn’t try to seduce me.”

  “Good fucking thing,” Bennett muttered.

  She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand.” And, yes, she had talked to the families. She’d called them and told them that she was a private investigator interested in solving cold cases. They’d been hesitant at first, but they’d answered her questions.

  And they’d been grateful…glad someone was still looking for answers. Because they’d felt as if their daughters had been buried and forgotten by the rest of the world.

  “These women were all infatuated with the men they knew.” That had been clear in the phone calls. “They told their families wonderful things about the man.” If it had been the same man. “But he didn’t try to charm me or trick me. He came at me, showing me exactly what he was. Not pretending anything else.”

  Why?

  She hadn’t seen his face. She wouldn’t have known if he’d walked up to her and flirted. Hell, she still didn’t know what he looked like.

  “Something is different with me,” Ivy said. And that made her nervous.

  “Maybe you’re just different.” Bennett gazed at her. “You saw him kill. Maybe that makes you different. Maybe you saw him for what he is, and maybe the bastard likes that.”

  A shiver swept over her. “Maybe.”

  It was good, being on eye level with him. Being so close to him. Their bodies were close, but not touching. The temptation to touch him was strong, but she didn’t move.

  “I like that coat,” Bennett remarked.

  Her lips parted and she glanced down. “Oh, sorry!” His coat. She’d put it on without really thinking about it before and she shouldered out of it.

  “No.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Keep it. I’ve got more.”

  So did she.

  He didn’t pull his hand back.

  “You know killers.” Those weren’t the words she’d meant to say. Were they?

  His hand lifted and he brushed back the hair that had fallen over her cheek. “Yes.” He seemed sad. “I do.”

  “Y-you worked Violent Crimes.” She had a few federal connections—courtesy of her father—that she’d used to dig into his past.

  Bennett gave a low whistle. “You have been busy today. I should have known you weren’t just walking away to spend a lazy Saturday someplace.”

  She never spent lazy Saturdays anywhere. “How many killers did you take down?”

  “Ivy…” Now a warning edge entered his voice.

  She wasn’t backing off. “Tell me about your last case.” Because that was the one that mattered. The one that had changed everything for him. And, try as she might, that case had remained classified.

  She had uncovered only the barest of facts. Bennett and his partner had been working a case, tracking a suspected serial killer. The suspect had been killed. Bennett’s partner had been killed. And Bennett had spent a week in the hospital.

  After he was released, he’d taken a month leave from the Bureau. Then, abruptly, he’d quit and headed back to Alabama.

  He’d almost died, and I didn’t even know it.

  Strange…to think of how much his death would have hurt her, when they’d been apart for so long.

  “You don’t want to hear about that case.”

  “Actually, I do. I want to hear everything about you.”

  He eased down a step. “I have some photos at the station that I want you to come and take a look at. Pictures that were snapped by people at the ball. The press was filming the scene when everyone left, and it’s possible we have our perp on camera.”

  Was that his way of saying he wasn’t about to tell her about that last case or why he’d suddenly left the FBI? Did he think she was just going to drop it? No, she’d get her answers, sooner or later. She always did. “Let’s go,” Ivy said. It wasn’t as if she had any other thrilling plans for the night. She could hear voices drifting to her—soon the parades would be in full force.

  She didn’t want to be alone that night. Better to go with Bennett and see those photos.

  Better to be with him.

  She locked her house. Set the new alarm. Then they walked together over to the street. Bennett opened the passenger door. She slid inside, and his rich, masculine scent seemed to follow her. He shut the passenger door behind her and walked around the vehicle. Her gaze darted down her street, one of those historic streets lined with oaks that were at least a hundred years old. Spanish moss hung from the oaks, drifting lightly in the breeze. The trees were gorgeous. She’d always loved them but…

  But they sent dark shadows sweeping through the neighborhood. They provided so many hiding spaces.

  Bennett closed his door. He slid into the seat and cranked the engine. Ivy eased out a low breath and straightened her shoulders. For an instant there, she’d almost been sure that someone was hiding in the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

  Maybe she was just letting her imagination get the better of her.

  As the car headed down the street, she couldn’t help but glance back at the shadows.

  Or maybe not.

  ***

  Ivy had left…with that jerk detective. The man was proving to be an annoyance. He’d kept tabs on the detective that day. He knew Bennett Morgan was messing with the dead. He should leave the ladies to rest, and not go digging into their past.

  Into my past.

  He’d always been so careful with the kills. One in New Orleans, one in Mobile. Always planning them right when Mardi Gras was in full swing. The cities were packed then—hotels overflowing. It was so easy to vanish in those crowds. So easy to kill. And he’d learned that if he played things just right, the bodies weren’t even found for days, or weeks after those parades and parties ended.

  So perfect. So brilliant.

  But…

  Ivy saw me. For the first time, someone had watched while he killed. And he’d liked that. Liked it so fucking much to have her eyes on him while he drove his knife into a victim.

  And everything that he learned about Ivy, every new secret that was revealed, told him just how truly perfect she was for him.

  She looked like his victims. So beautiful. So breakable.

  But…

  But there’s more to her. She’s important, I know it.

  He stared up at her house. More of Ivy’s secrets were in that house. He wanted in there. He wanted to be waiting for her when the cop brought her back.

  But Ivy had installed a new security sys
tem. He’d watched that installation. Even come up and talked with the security team when they’d been taking a break outside. He knew she’d gotten a good system, one that he might not be able to bypass.

  His eyes narrowed.

  But I want in.

  And what he wanted, he got.

  Chapter Six

  There were dozens of videos. And easily several thousand pictures. Ivy stared at them until she was sure her eyes burned, but she didn’t see any sign of the killer. Or, if she did, she didn’t realize it.

  He had on a mask. It was dark. Dammit, the only thing I know about him is that his hair is dark and he’s built like Bennett.

  “No luck?”

  She looked up at Bennett’s voice. She was in his office, sitting at his desk, and he’d just appeared in the doorway. His voice hadn’t been particularly hopeful, and she saw that his expression was grim.

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “It was a long shot. There are so many exits from that convention center, and the place was total chaos.”

  “No bloody clothes were found?”

  “Not by the crime team, and they went back again earlier, searching for it.” He crossed the room and came to her side, standing over her as he looked down at the computer. “It’s really the perfect place, if you think about it. All of those people, many of them already so drunk they can’t stand…and even if they aren’t drunk, then maybe they’ve had enough to be buzzing a bit. They won’t remember what they saw. Throw in the masks and the darkness, and you have your total anonymity. If you wanted to commit a crime, if you wanted to hurt someone…do it right there. No one will know.”

  She shivered because his voice had turned so cold. “Is that what you think he’s been doing? Killing in the crowds for what—the last few years?”

  “It’s what makes sense. A prime hunting ground.”

  Okay, that was creepy. But she didn’t speak because she knew exactly what he was doing—profiling the killer. He’d probably done that before, when he’d been working Violent Crimes. She wanted to hear what else he had to say.

  “His victims look alike,” Ivy said as she craned her head to look up at him. They look like me.