Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2

by Terri Reed

  “I suppose what you do on your own time is none of my business.” He paused, then added, “Until it is.”

  She smiled and leaned back against the hallway wall. “I have two weeks of vacation time accumulated.”

  “Indeed. I’m giving you some leeway, Agent Bennett. As long as you are an agent of the FBI, you will act accordingly. Check in with the local police and keep me apprised of any and all developments at all times. That means you don’t act until you’ve talked to me. Follow, survey, observe. Gather information. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “I hope I won’t regret this, Agent Bennett.”

  “You won’t, sir.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Samantha. If you so much as get a whiff of danger, call for backup. Tonight could have gone horribly wrong.”

  Her insides twisted with the truth of his words. “Yes, sir.”

  After hanging up, Sami found the restroom, where she rinsed her face with cold water. The white tiled sink and chrome faucet gleamed in the overhead fluorescent lights. A large rectangular mirror covered the wall behind the sink and her reflection stared back at her.

  Tonight could have gone horribly wrong.

  The words rang through her head. If Drew hadn’t stopped her from entering that motel room, what would have happened?

  But he had and now she was in the Canadian Consulate General’s headquarters. A place she’d never imagined she’d end up tonight. But then again, she hadn’t known what to expect. Certainly not being detained by a handsome Canuck with control issues.

  Her hands shook. A normal response given the adrenaline letdown. She needed to pull herself together.

  But the frustration from not catching Birdman tightened her shoulder muscles. She should have been used to disappointment by now, but pessimism wasn’t normally her bag. Lisa would say Sami was a discouraged optimist. An oxymoron for sure.

  A knock on the door startled her. Her hand went to her holstered gun. “Yes?”

  “I’m finished with my report. Are you ready?” Drew’s muffled voice eased the spike of anxiety.

  “Be right out,” she called.

  She removed her stocking cap and let her hair fall to her shoulders. She finger combed the long strands as best she could then tied them back with a scrunchie she’d found in a pocket. She pinched her cheeks to give her face some color, but the dark circles of fatigue rimming her eyes were a lost cause. What did it matter, anyway? She wasn’t trying to impress Drew.

  She stuffed the cap into her pocket before opening the door. Drew stood with one shoulder propped against the wall, his tall, lean frame relaxed. Handsome. The thought invaded her mind. The man was definitely good-looking, even with the signs of fatigue around his eyes and the day’s growth of beard shadowing his strong jawline.

  He’d changed into navy khakis and a collared shirt beneath a jacket with the letters RCMP on the breast pocket, and on the back, as she’d seen earlier. Like hers. Only she had no jurisdiction here.

  Despite her badge, at the moment she wasn’t acting as an agent of the United States but as a woman obsessed with finding a killer who’d murdered her best friend.

  Drew pushed away from the wall. “Where are you staying?”

  She gave him the name of a popular hotel chain in downtown Vancouver, then followed him to his vehicle where she settled into the passenger seat and let her curiosity about the man driving prompt her to ask, “How long have you been with the RCMP?”

  “I was born into it,” he said with a grin.

  She made a face. “What?”

  “My dad’s a retired Mountie. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

  She wondered what Drew had been like as a kid. A strange tenderness filled her as she imagined a dark-haired boy hero-worshipping his father.

  For the next ten minutes they chatted, keeping the conversation light and discovering similar tastes in movies and book genres. Drew followed the National Hockey League, while she could recite pro-football stats. She found him to be engaging and easy to be with. Strange considering their meeting. She’d have guessed they wouldn’t find so much to talk about. But when it came right down to it, they were more alike than was comfortable but for some reason she didn’t mind.

  Drew pulled up in front of her hotel. Sami opened her door, grateful that for a few minutes she’d let herself be normal and been able to push thoughts of Birdman to the back burner. She had this man to thank. He’d made it easy to take a moment to breathe before she rushed back into her investigation. “Thank you for…well, everything.”

  “My pleasure, Sami.”

  When Drew turned off the engine, tension rushed into tight a knot in her tummy. It was one thing to let down her guard for the drive over but another completely for him to come to her hotel room door. “You don’t have to walk me up.”

  “I don’t have to but it’s the polite thing to do.” He climbed from the vehicle before she could protest further.

  Nerves on the edge of snapping, she decided not to fight him on this. She wanted to hang on to the last remnants of peace in the hope she might sleep tonight. She’d heard Canadians were super polite and friendly. He was living up to the reputation.

  The doorman opened the glass door to allow them entrance. Sami smiled her thanks. Soft classical music played in the lobby. The polished marble floors gleamed and teakwood accents added texture, while plush, comfortable seating arrangements invited private conversations.

  After nodding a greeting to the concierge, they took the elevator to the second floor. She slid her electronic key in the lock, waited for the green light, then pushed open the door. Darkness lay within.

  Confusion made her hesitate. The overspill of the hallway light reached a few feet in front of her. She frowned and hovered on the threshold.

  Drew stepped close, so close she could feel the heat from his body battling the sudden chill chasing down her spine. “Something wrong?”

  “I left a light on when I headed out.”

  “Most likely the maid turned it off after cleaning your room.”

  Though that sounded plausible, the need for caution didn’t ease. She stepped inside the room and groped the wall for the light switch. When she flipped it, nothing happened. Her stomach knotted. She withdrew her sidearm.

  Drew’s hand on her shoulder gently nudged her aside so he could step past her and move farther into the darkened room. Normally, she’d balk if a man took the lead away from her. She wouldn’t let anyone view her as less because she was a woman. But since she had no jurisdiction here and, frankly, was a little freaked out, she allowed him to enter first.

  The curtains were drawn; however, a little light from the parking lot outside slipped through the edges, enough to cast gray shadows. Sami’s breathing slowed as she strained to listen. Was someone in the room?

  She followed Drew deeper into the gloom. Heard him try the table lamp. But the room remained dark.

  When she felt the air move, she whipped toward her left. A hissing sound filled her head and something hit her in the face, stinging her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

  Pepper spray!

  She gagged and spit. Fear fisted in her chest.

  Drew’s guttural growl said he, too, had been squirted with the offending substance.

  They were both vulnerable and the thought terrified her.

  Suddenly, the floor-length curtains on the other side of the room were yanked aside. Light from the hotel’s back parking lot filled the room. Sami blinked back the tears of stinging pain. She could make out a dark figure at the patio door. She raised her gun but the intruder slid open the glass door and escaped over the balcony and into the night before she could sight down the barrel.

  Drew gave chase, disappearing behind the assailant.

  She stumbled forward intent on pursuit but she made it only to the sliding door before Drew returned.

  He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacke
t and growled, “I couldn’t see which way he went.”

  A sense of urgency gripped her. “Come on—we need to wash this stuff off.” She groped for his hand and latched on to lead him to the bathroom.

  Thankfully, the light in the bathroom worked. She turned the cold water on, grabbed two washcloths from the rack and drenched them before handing one to Drew and using one herself.

  After a few minutes the burning from the pepper spray was relatively under control. Drew found a pile of lightbulbs on the bed. He screwed one into the table lamp and turned it on. The warm glow expelled the shadows.

  Sami’s gaze caught on the wall above the king-size bed. Her heart slammed into her ribs so hard she put a hand over her chest to protect herself.

  Drew’s shocked hiss echoed in the stillness of the room.

  Her mouth went dry.

  WATCHING YOU

  The words were scrawled in bright red letters on the beige-colored wall.

  She gasped for breath, but her lungs refused to cooperate. Dark spots danced at the edges of her mind. She fought for control, hating the violated and vulnerable feeling invading her. Only one other time in her life had she felt this way and she’d vowed to never be a victim again. “No!”

  So much for her vow or her determination. This situation was out of her control. She mentally scoffed. Of course she wasn’t in control. Only God was. Her fingers curled into fists. But where was God when Lisa was being murdered?

  Forcing back the searing question, she concentrated on the current situation.

  Birdman had been here. In her room. The sense of violation permeated through her like a virus, making her stomach roll.

  “How did he find out where I was staying?” Her shaky voice echoed in the silent room. “I let him slip away again!”

  And now the hunter had become the hunted.

  *

  With a lump of rage lodged in his chest at being caught unaware, Drew called hotel security. He wanted to view their video surveillance. He needed to catch a glimpse of the killer because he hadn’t caught sight of the perpetrator’s face before he’d vanished in the dark like a wisp of smoke.

  No go.

  Unfortunately, the security system had suffered a power failure and they were working on getting it back online. Coincidence? Not likely. This killer was savvy enough to down a sophisticated security system. Of course he’d knock out the hotel’s video surveillance before infiltrating Sami’s room.

  Drew’s nerves jumped to think what would have happened had he not walked Sami to her room.

  What was the guy’s plan? To pepper spray her and then…kill her or kidnap her?

  Either way, Drew wasn’t going to let the guy have another chance.

  “Pack your bags,” he said.

  She turned from inspecting the writing on the wall. “This is paint, not blood.”

  “The crime scene technicians can try to find a match to the color and brand and see who bought some recently.” He picked her suitcase up off the floor and put it on the bed. “I need to take you someplace safe.”

  Pensive, she nodded and retrieved her clothing from the drawers and the closet. Once she had everything stowed in the suitcase, he grabbed the bag and urged her out of the room just as the local authorities arrived. He ran down the incident. He didn’t expect them to find prints; the guy had worn gloves. That much Drew had seen.

  “Where are we going?” Sami asked minutes later as they settled in his Land Cruiser.

  Good question. There was only one safe place he could think of on short notice. “My place.”

  THREE

  “Are you sure this isn’t an inconvenience?” Sami asked. She didn’t feel right about intruding on his personal life.

  “Not at all.”

  She followed Drew up the walkway of a well-lit two-story house at the end of a quiet tree-lined street on Vancouver’s east side. Fancy sconces were mounted on either side of the rust-colored front door. The house itself was painted a pale yellow with white trim. Empty window boxes created a lonely feeling in the pit of Sami’s stomach.

  He unlocked the door and walked inside, flipping lights on as he went. She came in behind him and closed and relocked the door.

  The house was silent and smelled faintly of savory pasta sauce. Sami’s stomach grumbled loudly. Embarrassed, she placed a hand over her tummy.

  Drew’s chuckle heated her face. “I’m hungry, too.” He set her bag by the foot of the staircase. “I’ll make us some eggs and toast.”

  He led her through the house toward the kitchen.

  The living room had well-worn hardwood floors and brown leather furniture placed strategically in front of a large plasma television, making her wish this were a lazy Sunday afternoon and they were here to watch football.

  A much better reason for invading his space than hiding from a madman.

  On one wall, a floor-to-ceiling brick fireplace with a stack of wood piled in the firebox behind an ornate glass screen made her think of hot chocolate and cozy winter nights. Over the mantel hung a black-and-white landscape of a windy river cutting through snowy peaks and wooded lands. She recognized the style of a popular American photographer. The place was homey and inviting yet masculine. A bachelor pad.

  No signs of flowers or any frilly things to suggest a woman’s touch. She slanted Drew a quick glance. She’d noticed the absence of a ring on his left hand. Did that mean he wasn’t attached, or did he just not wear a wedding ring while on the job?

  Better to ask and appease her curiosity than let the question fester. “Your wife won’t mind me being here?”

  He flipped on the overhead light in the kitchen. The ’70s-style mustard-colored Formica countertops were clean. A cast-iron skillet hung from a hook over the gas stove. “I’m not married.”

  She wasn’t sure why she felt relief. His marital status had nothing to do with her. Yet she was itching to ask him why he wasn’t married. He was good-looking, employed and had a great personality. All the things any sane woman would be crazy not to pursue. But she didn’t want to let things get personal. She mentally snorted. As if staying in his guest room weren’t personal.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you married?”

  She met his gaze. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Her mouth twisted. He apparently had no problem asking the question. She went with the less complicated answer. “No time for romance.”

  “Ah. I can relate to that.” Drew opened the mustard-colored refrigerator and took out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread.

  From his tone it sounded as if he meant no time for romance was also the reason he wasn’t married. Whatever his reasons, they were his. She wasn’t crazy enough to delve into the whys and whatnots.

  Spying the toaster, she took the bread from him. “You concentrate on the eggs. I’ll be the toast master.”

  He grinned. “I like your way of thinking.”

  She liked him. Which was surprising considering earlier tonight he’d derailed her plans of capturing Birdman, but then again, as she’d concluded earlier, he’d saved her life. Twice now. An endearing fact, one she’d have to remember to keep in perspective. They shared the same commitment to their respective jobs. And that included saving a fellow law enforcement agent from harm.

  She put two slices of bread in the toaster slots. As she twisted the tie on the end of the plastic bag, she was reminded of being tied up not so many hours ago. Thankfully, her wrists bore no marks from the zip ties.

  A thump overhead sent a jolt of alarm through her body and kick-started her heart. She dropped the loaf of bread and reached for her weapon.

  “Whoa, stand down,” Drew said softly.

  Her gaze swung to him. “Did you hear that? Someone’s in your house.”

  “It’s my dad.” He covered her hand holding the gun with his. The warm pressure sent tingles up her arm. His hands were big, strong and capable. “You’re safe here.”

  The way he looked at her, as
if he was really concerned for her, made her want to believe him. For some reason this man inspired trust.

  Heavy footfalls sounded on the wooden staircase. An older man, wearing a white T-shirt and flannel pants, stepped into the kitchen and halted abruptly. His assessing gaze was cool as he regarded Sami and her gun, then swung his gaze to Drew. “I take it we have a guest, eh?”

  “Yes, Dad.” Drew removed his hand from over hers. “We have a guest. This is Special Agent Sami Bennett of the FBI. Sami, my dad, retired RCMP inspector Patrick Kelley.”

  Exhaling, Sami quickly released the hold she had on her weapon before thrusting out her hand at Drew’s father. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Warily, Patrick slid his big hand into hers. His calloused palm scraped against her skin. She could see the resemblance between father and son. Both were tall and formidable with the same dark hair and hazel eyes. Drew’s face had more angles and planes, whereas the elder Kelley’s face was softer and lined with age.

  “Likewise, Sami.” Patrick shook her hand briefly. “It’s not often I enter my kitchen to find a beautiful woman holding a gun. Special agent, eh?”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks at the compliment and for the fact she’d almost drawn on him. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been a stressful night.”

  “Eggs, Dad?” Drew went back to scrambling eggs in a bowl.

  “Don’t mind if I do, eh?” Patrick bent down to pick up the loaf of bread. “I’ll have some toast, as well.”

  Sami cringed at the result of her embarrassing reaction. “Here, sir, let me.”

  He handed over the bread and then turned to retrieve plates from the cupboard. “So, Sami, what brings the FBI to our door?”

  “A case.” She pushed down the toaster button and sneaked a glance at Drew. How much would he tell his father?

  “How long have you known my son?”

  Drew poured the scrambled eggs into a sizzling pan. “We actually met tonight.”

  Patrick’s eyebrows rose. “This I can’t wait to hear.”

  *

  An hour later Drew walked Sami to the guest room at the top of the stairs. He pushed open the door, glad to see the room was made up. They didn’t have many visitors, so the room wasn’t used often.