Tropic of Trouble

by Wynter Daniels

  “And Lilith is still out there. We have no idea when or where she’ll show up next. I felt like such a chicken, hiding in the storeroom instead of facing her. Maybe I could have identified her if I had.”

  “And maybe you’d have died trying.” He pulled off the road, cut the motor and faced her. “Do you think I’m going to berate you because you didn’t have the gun in your hand or because you kept yourself safe by staying hidden? Under the circumstances, you did exactly what you should have. This security thing takes some practice. Bottom line is you made it out alive. That’s huge.”

  A sheen of tears filled her downcast eyes.

  Sliding closer, he lifted her chin with a finger and turned her face toward him. “We’re going to stop her, I promise. In the meanwhile, you’re doing a terrific job. You’re holding up way better than most people would and I’m damn impressed.” He wiped away an escaped tear then kissed her lips. “It’s gonna be okay, Kelsey.”

  She finally allowed the tears to flow. He locked his arms around her as she sobbed against his chest. “Let it out, baby. It’s okay.”

  When she finally stopped crying a few minutes later, he held her at arm’s length and squeezed her shoulder. “Are you ready to face my house? This might be like salt on the wound and if you don’t want to deal with it right now, I can take you to Jenna’s. You’ll be safe there.”

  She immediately shook her head. “I want to be with you.”

  Her answer filled him with pride. And desire.

  He drove into his neighborhood and prayed his own strength would hold up. No telling what they’d find at his house. He pulled into the driveway and shut off the motor. When Kelsey took his hand, he questioned her with his eyes.

  “I’m here for you,” she murmured.

  Gritting his teeth against the emotion, he nodded. “I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you.” Despite the anxiety knotting his gut, he smiled. Knowing she cared meant everything.

  “How about we take care of each other?”

  He leaned across the seat and kissed those full, crimson lips. He dreaded telling her about the book dealer, but she deserved to hear it from him, rather than read about it in the paper or on the computer. “Callahan gave me some bad news earlier.”

  Her lips thinned and tiny lines creased her forehead.

  Squeezing her shoulder, he looked her in the eye and wondered how much more she could take. “Art Stephens.” He swallowed hard. “Someone killed him.”

  She clamped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes filled.

  Drawing her against his chest, he held her, tried to comfort her, but she remained stiff.

  “I know that comes as a big shock. Did you know him well?”

  She shook her head and pulled out of his embrace. “Not really. We spoke on the phone several times, met a couple times when I brought him books.” Dropping her gaze to her lap, she shrugged. “People around me are dropping like flies, huh? Maybe you ought to keep your distance. For your health.”

  Lifting her chin with his finger, he captured her gaze. “Not a chance. Understand?”

  Her nod spoke volumes.

  He glanced toward the house. “Do you want to wait here while I check things out inside? There’s been some sort of vandalism.”

  “No way.” She opened her door and climbed out. “Let’s do it.”

  He hadn’t been this impressed by a female since he’d discovered Wonder Woman comic books in the sixth grade. Tucking his gun into his waistband, he climbed out of the truck and headed to the door.

  Once inside, he glanced around the room, but nothing seemed out of place. After a cursory check of the kitchen and dining room, he returned to the living room.

  “I smell paint.” Kelsey moved past him and started down the hall.

  “Hey!” He caught up to her, grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Wait until I’ve checked each room before you go in.”

  Her brow furrowed, but she held her tongue and gave him a quick nod.

  “Thank you.” Passing her, he peered into the guest room, then continued on to the master. He pushed open the door and froze in the doorway when he read the message written on the wall in black paint.

  Next time, she dies.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cold fear flooded Jason’s veins. He spun around to shield Kelsey from the sight of the message scrawled on the wall, but too late.

  Her face turned a chalky white. Hugging her arms around her body, she lifted her chin higher. “They have no idea who they’re screwing with.”

  Her strength and tenacity amazed him. Pulling her into an embrace, he kissed her with a passion that surprised even him. “You’re quite a woman, Miss Ackerman.”

  “Look.” She pointed to the bed as he released her.

  The comforter and linens beneath were in shreds. He grasped her shoulders and leveled a serious stare at her. “Do me a favor. Don’t touch anything. If I can convince Callahan to send a forensics person over, maybe they can pick up some prints. That’s not standard for breaking and entering situations, but this is hardly your run-of-the-mill case. We keep all of our staff fingerprints on file at the jail. Lilith or her accomplice may have sealed her fate by coming here.” And he could prove to Callahan once and for all that Kelsey’s only role in this was victim.

  “Let’s hope so.” She crossed her fingers and gave his hand a squeeze. “Why do you think she only vandalized the bedroom?”

  He didn’t want to voice his suspicion that Lilith’s choice of rooms had a sexual connotation. He unclipped the cell from his belt and called Mike, who answered on the second ring. “Hey. I just heard about your house. Is everything okay?”

  Turning away from Kelsey, he gritted his teeth. “Are you convinced now that Lilith exists?”

  “If you say she called you while you were with Kelsey, then I believe you. I’m just doing my job.”

  That would have to do, for now. “Would you send someone over to gather prints? They shattered my bedroom window, but the shards are big.” He stared down at the glass on the floor. “Maybe big enough to hold a full print.”

  “Not a problem. Think we’ll find your suspect in the AFIS system?”

  Running the fingerprints through AFIS would take days. “Maybe. But I hope you’ll send it to your Ident section first. I’ll have someone run over a set of officer prints.”

  “You think one of your own people did this?”

  He remained on the fence about Petra Sykes, yet hearing the words out loud cut straight through him. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Sorry, buddy. That’s got to suck. I’ll send my guys right over.”

  Jason hung up and looked at Kelsey. The traumatic events of the day had taken a toll on her. He could spot it in the set of her jaw and the furrow of her brow. Draping his arm over her shoulder, he led her out of the room. “Callahan is sending over a team to check if our perpetrator left any evidence behind. After they’re gone, what do you say to a hot bath followed by a full body massage?”

  Her attempt at an enthusiastic smile didn’t quite hit the mark. He’d have to work extra hard to rid her of the tension she carried. After the forensics team did their thing, he’d have to wait a few hours for their results. The very best way he could think to take Kelsey’s mind off all the bad stuff was to make love to her. The thought sent a rush of heat through him, but he forced himself to concentrate on the case, at least for now.

  When his cell rang and he saw Private Number displayed, he cringed, anticipating another conversation with Lilith. “Jones.”

  “Are you ready to consider handing the book over now?” Her voice grated on his nerves like nothing he’d ever heard before.

  His temples instantly started throbbing. “Your threats aren’t helping your cause.”

  “I never threaten, Sergeant. I merely warn.”

  “Who’s helping you, Lilith? You couldn’t have been at the bookstore and my house at the same time.”

  Her laugh ratcheted up his anger. “I have no
idea what you’re talking about. You have my book and I want it back. That’s all I know.”

  “You said you’d meet me at Moore Park this afternoon.”

  “Yes, sorry about that.” She coughed a deep, smoker’s cough. “Something came up.”

  He glanced at Kelsey, thankful she’d didn’t seem too shaken after Lilith’s attempt to frighten her today. “Stay the hell away from Kelsey.”

  “You said you didn’t have a girlfriend. Why are you so concerned for her?”

  Clamping down on his rising anger, he fought to maintain control. “This is between you and me. Leave her alone.”

  “Apparently you’re not ready to give me what’s mine, but you will be, very soon.”

  The line went dead.

  Damn it! What did she have up her sleeve? Primal hatred washed over him.

  Callahan’s team arrived less than half an hour later, carrying an assortment of equipment into the house. As they worked, he and Kelsey waited in the living room, she reading a magazine, he pacing the floor.

  Kelsey’s cell shattered the quiet. She crossed the room to fetch her purse then rifled through it until she found it. Glancing at the display, she sighed and her shoulders sagged. “Hello, Mother.”

  She climbed onto a barstool and threw him an unconvincing smile. “Sorry about that. I’ve had a lot going on.”

  Jason noticed her whole demeanor change, almost as if she retreated into a shell. Her body appeared to shrink.

  “Of course I know you worry. Tell Mason I’m sorry.” She glanced at Jason and shook her head. “I’m not home right now, Mother. Can I call you later when I’m alone? Yes, I promise.” She shut the phone and practically threw it back into her purse. “Sorry.”

  “Sounds like she’s concerned. What mom wouldn’t be under the circumstances.” He tried for his best reassuring grin. “You could have told her you have your own personal body guard.” Raking his gaze over her, he waggled his eyebrows.

  Kelsey wrung her hands and averted her eyes. “I haven’t exactly shared any details of my…situation here.”

  He waited for her to elaborate but she fiddled with her purse, avoiding his gaze.

  She rubbed her forehead. “Okay. I didn’t tell her any of what’s happened here. You don’t know my mother. She’ll insist on flying in from Dallas and taking over my life. The woman can barely manage her own life. She stayed in an abusive marriage with my father for ten years, for God’s sake.”

  He sat on the stool next to hers. “Want to talk about it?”

  She started to say something, but approaching footsteps drew their attention toward the hallway.

  When one of the techs emerged, Jason approached her. “What’d you get?”

  “Not much, but we have a pretty clear palm print and a side print from the outside of the window.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate your help.” He shook hands with all the techs, then showed them out.

  Kelsey set her magazine on the coffee table. “Now what?”

  “Now we wait for the identification department to do their thing.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “I thought they didn’t find any actual fingerprints.”

  “They lifted a palm print and a side print. When someone is arrested for a felony we don’t just take prints from their fingers, but from their palms and the side of the hands.” He sat on the couch and rested his feet on the table. “We also collect all those for every person who works at the jail.”

  “So they’ll compare the ones from here to Petra Sykes’?”

  “Right. Doing it that way will only take a couple of hours. Callahan promised to put a rush on it.” The least his friend could do after practically accusing Kelsey of staging Lilith’s attacks.

  Soon enough he’d have proof of who did this. Once and for all he’d be able to end this ordeal. But he wondered if Kelsey would still be here after they wrapped up the case. The possibility that she wouldn’t left a giant hole in his gut.

  That was tomorrow’s challenge. For today, he had to make sure he kept her alive.

  * * * * *

  Kelsey eased back the covers and slid out of bed. Jason’s even breathing assured her she hadn’t awakened him. She tiptoed out of the room and quietly shut the door. The house seemed strangely still without Elvis, but at least the dog would survive, according to the vet’s call last night.

  In the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of milk and sat at the breakfast bar. Something bothered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. A vital piece of the puzzle remained just out of reach.

  She wished they could figure out the identity of Lilith’s accomplice. It could have been Art, although she doubted that. He’d seemed like a nice man on the few occasions she’d met him. And the man who’d killed Margaret looked way younger. Although she’d not gotten a good look at him, he moved too fast to be Art’s age. Plus, she’d have recognized Art if he’d run past her that night, even without her glasses.

  On a whim, she booted up Jason’s computer and ran a search on the Miami news site for any recent stories about antique or rare book thefts. The search returned one hit. A man named Thomas Hudson had been arrested for breaking into the home of a rare book dealer, whom the article neglected to name. For some reason, the dealer hadn’t pressed charges and the police dropped the case.

  She only knew of one such dealer in all of South Florida—Art Stephens. A cool shiver raced up her spine and goose bumps popped up on her skin. Could this Thomas Hudson be connected to Lilith? Unfortunately the article didn’t include a photo of Hudson.

  Next she checked the Miami white pages and came up with three people named Thomas Hudson in the area. She had to share this with Jason, but she didn’t want to wake him so early.

  “What are you doing up?”

  She jumped at Jason’s voice. “I couldn’t sleep. Did I wake you?”

  He stood in the doorway and rubbed his eyes. “No. Callahan did.”

  She dropped her gaze to the cell phone in his hand. “So early?”

  “Prints don’t match Petra Sykes’. We’re back to square one.”

  “No, we’re not.” She showed him the article she’d found. “What do you think?” His wink sent fresh desire washing over her, but they had work to do.

  “I’ll look up the guy’s arrest affidavit and get his information. Then I’ll go pay Mr. Hudson a visit.”

  Kelsey cooked breakfast while Jason showered and made calls to the jail.

  After they ate, he checked the doors. “You remember how to use the alarm, right?”

  She saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  “The bedroom window isn’t hooked up to the system yet, but the alarm company is sending someone out this afternoon.” He pushed his gun into his belt. “Where’s your weapon?”

  “My purse, Sergeant.”

  He grasped her shoulders firmly and kissed her mouth. He tasted like coffee and she melted against him. His rising erection pressed against her. Renewed desire sent licks of hot need through her.

  He broke the kiss and tightened his grip on her. “Much as I’d love to whisk you back into bed, I have to go. The sooner I find Hudson, the sooner we can wrap us this nightmare. I want you to carry gun on you, even in the house. Understand?”

  Her shoulders fell but she nodded. No way would she take chances, not after Lilith had surprised her yesterday. She prayed Jason would come back safe, and with any luck, he’d be able to hand Mike Callahan a suspect in Margaret’s murder.

  After a long, cool shower, she suddenly felt crushingly tired, so she headed for the couch and stretched out as she waited for Jason to come home. The soft cushions and the cool, quiet room conspired to lull her toward sleep. But she couldn’t. Not now. She’d shut her eyes for a minute, just to rest them.

  A scraping sound jolted her wide awake. Had she fallen asleep? She sat up and teased back the edge of the curtain, hoping to find Jason’s truck outside, but the driveway was unoccupied.

  The room darkened, only for a second, as if a shad
ow had momentarily blocked the sunlight from the only other window in the room. Alarm rumbled through her. She snatched her purse from the coffee table, glad she’d remembered to keep it right next to her. Fishing out her gun, she scanned the room. She checked the clock on the wall and realized she’d slept for nearly an hour.

  Where could Jason be?

  That scraping sound drifted to her ears again. She held her breath, listening. Her whole body trembled. Tightening her grip on the gun, she hurried to the alarm keypad. The red light assured her the system was functioning and hadn’t been breached.

  She thought she heard water running outside. Racing to the kitchen, she peered through the glass doors, but nothing looked amiss. Something bumped near the front door. More running water.

  What’s going on?

  Her head vibrated with panic. She grabbed the phone and called Jason’s cell. He answered on the second ring.

  “Someone’s here, I think.” Was she being paranoid?

  “What do you mean? Inside?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “I’m five minutes away. I’ll get there as quick as I can.”

  Something crackled near the back of the house, then footsteps.

  “They’re outside!” Tears threatened, but she clenched her jaw and forced them back. She had a gun and Jason was almost there. She could protect herself.

  The crackling grew louder, now closer, near the front door.

  “I’m calling 9-1-1. Hang on for me, baby. I’ll be there quick, I swear.” The line went dead and she was alone.

  Smoke! Oh God, smoke seeped under the door into the living room. She took a step back, spun around and ran for the kitchen. Flames licked the sliding doors, grew higher each second.

  Glass exploded nearby. More smoke. The loudest siren she’d ever heard blared all around her. Covering her ears, she ran through the dining room. Something crashed through the window. A bottle—a flaming bottle—shattered on the table and immediately spread white and purple fire all around her.

  She screamed as sparks landed on her arm, and she instinctively patted them out, unsure if they’d actually burned her. Her body was numb with terror. She refused to succumb to the inferno. She had to find a way out.