by Vella Day
Tell me, does Bobby like heaven? I hope so. Keep an eye out for me when I come. Soon, my love, soon.
Sincerely yours,
Morton Richter
Dom probably shouldn’t have brought work home, but he’d been distracted during the day worrying about Tessa. Her ex-husband was a clever man. He’d found out where she lived once before and had even managed to sneak into her house without notice. Dom wouldn’t put it past the guy to find out she was staying at his house.
Tessa knocked on his study door.
“Come in.”
She halted. “Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Lust grabbed him so hard he had to shift in his chair. It didn’t matter she was dressed in a nightgown up to her neck and wrapped in a terry cloth bathrobe.
Dom relaxed back in his chair. “You’re not bothering me. Come in. Make yourself comfortable.” He pointed to an overstuffed leather chair opposite his desk.
“I’m not staying. I just wanted to say goodnight.”
He glanced at the gold clock on his desk. “It’s a little early isn’t it?”
“I’m tired.”
The dark circles under her eyes implied she might be telling the truth. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“I’m worried about Judd, that’s all. I’m not sure where he’s going to get the money for his operation. Regardless of what he thinks is best, I may have to take Mr. Jankowski up on his offer. Selling to him, though, makes me feel like I’m a failure, both to myself and to my brother.”
When Dom had let the Social Worker take his brother away, he’d had the same reaction. With his father and mother dead, he should have protected Alex better. Only he hadn’t. The horrible night the Social Worker escorted Alex to his new home still haunted him. Even the six different private investigator he’d hired over the years to find Alex had no luck. Damn it. His little brother couldn’t have just disappeared.
He refocused on Tessa. “You aren’t a failure. You have to do what’s best for Judd.”
“What were you working on?” she asked, acting as if he hadn’t said a word.
She slipped into the big leather chair and clasped her arms around her drawn up legs. Her vulnerability made him want to wrap a protective arm around her, but he steeled his heart against her allure. Not picturing her naked took all his will power.
He remembered her question and debated whether he should tell her about Trace’s file. He studied her eyes—deep blue, beautiful eyes. Her pinched brow spoke of much desperation. But about what? Her brother’s condition? Losing the restaurant? Ralph? Or the serial killer who was taking out her clients?
Hell, anyone of those things was enough to bring anyone to his or her knees. She deserved to know the truth.
“Trace had his cold case files sent down from Atlanta.”
“Why?”
“He thought there might be a connection between the serial killer up there and the person or persons responsible for the Blue Moon’s deaths.”
She let out a gasp. “Was there?”
Dom flipped through the pages again, forcing detachment from the horror. “Well, the last three victims in Atlanta appeared to be related. All had gunshot wounds to the left side of their head and all three were found in their cars parked on the side of the road. The M.O. reminds me of the Keri Wilkerson case three times over.”
She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and curled her feet underneath her. “Did the Atlanta police have any suspects?”
“No one for sure. The main problem, as I see it, is the calibers of the bullets were different in each of the three murders. That made it difficult to connect the cases.”
She looked off to the side, and then back at him. “Does that mean they think three different people committed the crimes?”
“I haven’t had many dealings with serial killers, but I’d have to say, that’s a definite possibility.”
Tessa sat up straighter. “In one of my classes in school, we studied the criminal mind. Some of the killers are rather bright, some even brilliant. Maybe he, or she, switched guns with each crime. That would make sense if the crime was premeditated.”
“Now you sound like a police detective.” He had to chuckle.
A small smile formed on her lips. “Our lines of work, or rather what I hope mine will be in the future, aren’t all that different. We both deal with individuals who have problems.”
“You can say that again.” Dom scanned more pages trying to find another similarity. “Hmm.”
“What?”
Tessa leaned forward in the chair and dropped her bare feet to the floor.
“All three murders occurred in November.”
“Really? All of ours happened in November too. Do you think it’s a coincidence?”
“I don’t know. It says here the Atlanta PD brought in several suspects. Trace made a handwritten note that said Morton Richter seemed the likely candidate. His alibi checked out, but that Trace didn't believe him. Given time, he would get him.’”
“So what are you going to do?” she asked.
“I’ll call Atlanta tomorrow to see where I might find this Morton guy. The only information Trace noted was an address in Ohio that belonged to the guy’s parents.”
Dom’s phone rang. She half stood, looking as if she wanted to give him privacy. It was the station. “Tess, wait.”
He swiped his phone. “Rossi.”
“It’s Fowler. The forensics came back on the bullets for Trace, Chelsea, and Doug Walsh. You won’t believe it.”
“Go ahead.” Dom looked up at Tessa. She stood as still as a statue, her gaze fixed on him.
“All three bullets came from the same gun that killed the Wilkerson woman.”
“Shit. I think we may need help on this one.” Out of habit he straightened the files on his desk, helping him to think. “Listen, Trace said he worked on a serial killer case in Atlanta. While he never did find the guy, the M.O. is similar. Could you fax our information up to...” Dom picked up the top folder and noted the officer’s name in charge. “To a Lieutenant Nauta, and ask if the ballistics match up.”
“It’s a long shot.”
“It’s all we’ve got.”
“Okay. I, ah, thought you’d like to know we’ll be sending Trace’s body up to Atlanta tomorrow for burial.”
Dom nearly crushed the phone. True his ex-partner had been undisciplined and didn’t always use the best common sense, but he didn’t deserve to die. “Thanks.”
Tessa waited in silence while he finished reading the report. He jotted down a list of possible suspects for the Tampa crimes, starting with Grady Jankowski and ending with Mick Stukes. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
“Can you tell me what the call was about?” Tessa asked. “I’ll understand if you can’t.”
He’d gotten so wrapped up in his thoughts he’d forgotten she was there. “I’m trying to sort out what’s happened, that’s all.” No use going into the details until he had all his facts straight.
“Well, goodnight, then,” she said.
“You don’t have to go.” Tessa’s presence brought comfort.
“I’m really tired. It’s been a long day.” Tess turned and softly shut his door.
Damn it. Had he offended her in some way? She’d seemed perky enough and interested in being with him moments ago. Dom debated following her to her room, but he wasn’t up for the rejection.
He stabbed a hand through his hair. Ever since Lisa had died, he’d not been able to get close to women. Then Tessa came along and wham. The emotional floodgates opened up, and he began to notice those elusive feelings like contentment, joy, and dare he say happiness?
His shoulders sagged. Fate sucked. If they’d met under different circumstances, they might have had a chance.
Not that he was in love with her, or anything. Not at all. At best, he’d call it in lust.
Dom took a deep breath forcing his ardor to cool.
“Work, Dom, wor
k,” he mumbled.
He turned his focus back to the files and searched for a hint as to why Trace had been killed. Was his ex-partner in the wrong place at the wrong time, or had the murderer recognized him? Nah. Doug Walsh was the intended victim and Trace and Chelsea happened along.
Dom slapped closed the manila folder and glanced at the clock. It was eleven thirty already. He hadn’t realized he’d been studying the files for close to two hours. It was time for bed.
As he pushed back his chair, his mind wandered back to Tessa. He would have thought she’d have been in a great mood tonight now that Judd would get his needed operation. Or was she mad at him for some crime he’d unknowingly committed? Considering how great the sex had been between them, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d seduced him again. So why hadn’t she?
That wasn't his concern right now. His goal was to keep her safe. Nothing else. Nowhere in the safety manual did that include keeping up with her changing mental health—or sleeping with her.
“Tessa, wake up.”
She moaned and cracked open an eye. Dominic had his hands on his hips and his feet planted.
“What’s wrong?” She pulled the covers over her chest.
“We need to take a trip. Get dressed and pack.”
“Huh? A trip? Where? What are you talking about?”
Tessa rubbed her eyes and focused on her tormentor. Despite the fact he’d practically ignored her last night studying his files, she couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was dressed in a blue pinstriped suit. The silk tie alone must have cost thirty or forty bucks. The man knew quality, that’s for sure.
“Pack a bag and meet me downstairs. Oh, and wear a skirt.”
“Hold it. What’s going on?” she asked to his retreating back. Damn him. “Why all the mystery?” she shouted after the disappearing man.
Damn. Tessa whipped off the covers and placed her bare feet on the cold floor. He needed one of his expensive carpets up here to warm up the place.
She shivered as she headed into the bathroom to wash up. In less than twenty minutes, she was dressed and packed. If she knew where they were going, she might do a better packing job.
She hadn’t brought anything dressy with her though. Dinner and dancing hadn’t been on the agenda. The best she could come up with was a pair of black pants, a white blouse, and a black, kitschy jacket Annie had given her for her birthday.
She sighed. What was up with all the secrecy? The man would drive her crazy. Aargh.
Dominic was brewing a delicious smelling coffee when she entered the kitchen.
“Drink this,” he said and handed her a cup. He eyed her from head to toe but said nothing. She guessed she passed inspection.
“Did you pack?” he asked.
“Yes, but I don’t understand where we’re going.”
“I’ll put your bag in the car.”
Enough of the he-man attitude. “I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers.”
“We’re flying to Ohio if you must know.”
“Ohio? Are you crazy?” she asked.
“Probably.” Dominic spun around and headed up the stairs.
Tessa plopped down at the counter determined to enjoy the heavenly smelling fresh brew. If she had her way, she’d stay here and enjoy the quiet morning, not traipse across the country for no good reason. Besides, it was cold in Ohio. She had enough of dampness living in Colorado.
As she sipped her coffee, she had time to think. To be honest, she’d feel safer away from Tampa.
“Ready?” Dominic asked.
That was fast. “Can’t a girl have breakfast first? It’s still dark outside.”
“We’ll eat on the way to the airport.”
She’d had enough. “Before I agree to uproot again, I want some answers. Why are we going?”
“To find a serial killer.”
14
Tessa’s hands wouldn’t let go of the armrest. She hated flying. Big planes were bad enough, but ten-seater jets were nothing short of claustrophobic death traps. The sudden drops set her stomach into spasms.
And the noise. She was convinced she’d never hear again. The engine whined and whirred until she wanted to scream.
Sure, the view out the window was nice, and even scenic, but some conversation would have helped passed the time. When she tried to ask Dominic a question, he pointed to his ears and shook his head. He either suffered from clogged Eustachian tubes, or he didn’t want to discuss what they were doing a thousand miles from home.
Four endless, leg-cramping hours after taking off, he’d said not a word. She wanted to shake him and yell, but her throat had dried up. She needed something to drink. Tessa mimed drinking, but Dom shook his head. Stupid private plane.
Eventually, they landed, and Tessa couldn’t wait to stand on terra firma again. She still couldn’t believe Dominic had a friend who both owned a jet and was willing to transport him to God only knows where.
He and their pilot, John Hoffman, seemed to be best friends. They talked for at least an hour before taking off, laughing and slapping each other on the back, acting as if there wasn’t a dangerous criminal on the loose. Okay, maybe it wasn’t an hour, but it sure felt like it.
So why the hurry this morning if all they did was chat?
Maybe Dominic had been in the Air Force and looked forward to airplane talk. Aw, who knows? There was no use asking him. He’d only clam up.
As she clambered down the metal stairs, her legs wobbled as the cold Ohio wind whipped across her face. Maybe the temperature technically wasn’t freezing but coming from Florida, it sure felt arctic cold. If only she’d known her destination, she would have brought her winter parka.
Dominic followed behind. At the bottom of the steps, she turned around to await his instructions.
“John will show you where to go,” Dom shouted, pointing to the terminal. “I’m going to grab the luggage.”
For some strange reason, Tessa didn’t want to be away from her protector even though no one could have followed them to the ends of the earth. “I’ll wait.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Tessa kept one hand on her hair to keep it out of her face and the other on her jacket lapels. Despite knowing Ohio would be cold this time of year, her three layers weren’t enough to keep out the chill. Her nose began to run, and she questioned her choice of staying in the dampness instead of the warm terminal.
Dominic scurried to the luggage compartment and brought out their bags a moment later, while John put some wooden blocks under the wheels. It wasn't not as if the plane was going anywhere, so why bother?
“Come on,” Dom said as he scurried from the plane with the luggage. “Let’s get you inside the terminal before you freeze to death.”
Now he noticed the cold.
Dragging both of their wheeled suitcases behind him, he walked ahead of her alongside John, who’d finished doing whatever pilots did once they landed. Their laughter trickled back to her. Apparently, she misjudged Dominic’s chivalry quotient. She ducked her head against the wind and plowed forward.
The Parkersburg, West Virginia airport, though small, was blissfully warm inside. “Dominic,” she whispered. “Are we in the right place? I thought you said we were going to Ohio.”
He had the nerve to chuckle. “We are. Parkersburg is on the Ohio border. This is close to where we need to be.”
“Oh. Well, I’m going to use the restroom.”
“Sure.”
Though there hadn’t been anything to drink during the long flight, she had to go. When she returned to the airport’s lobby, John and Dominic were shaking hands.
Dom's friend smiled. “Good luck with your search,” he said to both of them. “I’m going to spend some time downtown, what there is of it. Call when you want to head back.”
Dominic checked his watch. “Let’s shoot for nine tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds good to me.” John faced her. “Take care,” he said, and then
winked.
What was that about? Had Dominic told him some tall tale about them being a couple?
“Okay, let’s see if we can find our driver,” Dominic said to no one in particular.
“We’re getting a driver?”
“There isn’t a rental car place near here, so I called a private limo company. Besides, we’ll need it for our cover.”
“Cover?” Tessa put a hand on his arm. “What’s going on?” He didn’t answer. “Okay, then tell me who’s paying for all this? Surely not the Tampa PD.”
“No, not them.”
Topic closed.
A uniformed man stepped into the lobby and looked around.
“This must be for us,” Dom said with way too much cheer.
They headed outside where Tessa once more shivered from the cold. To add to her discomfort, a shower burst from the dark gray clouds without warning. Great. Not waiting for the chauffeur to open the door, she slipped into the back seat. Seemingly oblivious to the foul conditions, Dominic waited until the driver put the luggage in the trunk before sliding into the seat next to her. He swiped a hand down his wet face.
The driver climbed in and turned around. “Where to?”
Dominic unfolded a piece of paper and rattled off the address.
“You sure you got that right? There’s nothing out that way but a few old farmhouses. The roads are dirt for the most part.”
“I’m sure.”
Their driver shrugged and maneuvered out of the airport. The shower dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and Tessa busied herself watching the scenery. She didn’t need to think about Dominic and what he did to her. If they were here to find a serial killer, she needed to keep her wits about her.
Lush green rolling hills accentuated the poverty that abounded in the Appalachian area. All the while, Dominic looked lost in thought as they rode in silence.
Finally, curiosity got the best of her. “If you know where this man lives, why couldn’t the police bring him in for questioning?” she whispered not wanting the driver to hear.
