Arranging cups and a teapot on a tray, she carried everything into the living room and placed them on a low table near the fireplace where a blaze crackled and hissed pleasantly in the silence.
Cullen, studying some of the photographs she’d exhibited on the walls, didn’t turn immediately when she came in.
Elizabeth bent over the tray to pour the tea. “How do you take your tea?”
When he didn’t answer, she glanced up, thinking perhaps he hadn’t heard her. But his attention was riveted on her. Or rather, on her chest.
Elizabeth glanced down and almost gasped. Somehow the WonderBra had shifted during the evening’s activities, and now instead of pushing her together and up, it was pushing her together, up and out. She looked as if she were about to pop over the daring neckline of her dress, and Elizabeth had never popped over anything.
Her face went red-hot.
Her first instinct was to adjust the bra or tug on her neckline. Instead she straightened, trying to act cavalierly about the whole affair. But then she caught a glimpse of herself in a wall mirror behind Cullen, and she was even more shocked by the amount of cleavage she’d put on display. Had her chest been that prominent all evening? No one else had seemed to notice.
But Cullen was sure noticing. He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from her décolletage, and, in her nervousness, Elizabeth drew a deep breath, which only accentuated the problem.
Slowly, Cullen looked up. Something glinted in his eyes, something warm and dark. Something that made Elizabeth’s stomach tremble and her knees go weak.
“Tea?” Her voice came out hardly more than a croak. Cullen seemed startled by the sound of it. Or at least, something had jolted him.
He gazed at her as if he didn’t quite comprehend. “What? Oh, tea. No. Sorry. I’d better pass. I need to get back….” He was backing toward the front door, all but stumbling in his haste.
Elizabeth started toward him. “Are you sure?”
He put up a hand. “Yes. Very sure.” He bumped into a chair. “It’s late and you need to get some breast—rest.” He opened the door and retreated outside. “Good night, Elizabeth.”
“Good night, Cullen.”
She watched him stride down the walkway toward the parking lot. Once he was out of sight, Elizabeth turned and leaned against the door, hugging her middle.
And then she smiled.
She couldn’t believe it! She’d actually made him nervous! She! Geeky little Elizabeth Douglas. Who would have thought?
Who would have thought that with all her years of studying, all her degrees, all her brain power, what she’d really needed to get Cullen Ryan’s attention was a good push-up bra?
Chapter Seven
In spite of an almost sleepless night, Elizabeth rose early the next morning, showered, dressed and downed a bagel and two cups of coffee before leaving to meet Lucian LeCroix at the library.
The sun was shining when she walked outside, but the temperature had dropped during the early morning hours and a sharp wind blew out of the northeast. Icicles suspended from barren tree limbs glinted like diamonds in the early-morning light, but the effect was more depressing than beautiful to Elizabeth. The cold reminded her of death, and death reminded her of Bethany’s murder and the fact that her killer was still out there somewhere, perhaps even now searching for his next victim.
As she hurried along, Elizabeth resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. It was broad daylight, but the campus was almost deserted. She met only a handful of students on the walkway, their heads bowed against the biting wind. As Elizabeth neared the library, two girls from one of her classes recognized her and called out a greeting. Another waved from a ten-speed as she pedaled by, her breath steaming like a racehorse’s in the cold.
In all likelihood, the students Elizabeth encountered were only a year or two younger than she. Some of them might even have been older, but their faces all looked so fresh and earnest. So innocent.
Had they heard about Bethany?
Even for those girls who didn’t know her personally, news of her death would still come as a shock. A stunned disbelief would descend over the campus, and then, as details of the murder trickled out, imaginations would be fueled. Rumors would spread like wildfire. Human nature being what it was, the more grisly aspects of Bethany’s death would eventually enthrall as much as they would terrify.
Elizabeth thought about Bethany lying in the cooler, her skin tinted that awful bluish-gray death hue, her eyes open and staring, but not seeing as she waited for the pathologist’s scalpels and saws. Just a few short days ago she’d been like the other girls at Heathrow. Young, vibrant, her whole life ahead of her. Now that life had been cut short, snuffed out by a brutal killer driven by passions so dark and hideous that no one but he could fathom them.
Passions that would have to be sated time and time again.
She was guessing at the killer’s motives, of course, and she could be wrong. Elizabeth hoped she was wrong. She prayed that Bethany’s murder, as tragic as it would still be, had been committed by a crazed boyfriend. A jilted lover. A jealous rival. Anything but what Elizabeth feared most.
She remembered what Cullen had told her last night. One murder doesn’t make a serial killer…. Besides, twenty years is a long time for a predator to remain active.
Not if he was smart.
Not if his bloodlust was matched by his brilliance, by a cleverness and skill that never let him lose control completely. That never allowed him to become reckless.
Most serial killers considered themselves superior and invincible, but supposing this killer really was? What if they were dealing with an extraordinary mind, one that had been carefully cultivated and nurtured until nothing remained but pure cunning? Pure evil?
She gazed into the distance, not seeing David Bryson’s castle, but knowing it was there. Knowing he was inside, stalking those dark halls like an animal trapped in a cage.
Could the townspeople be right? Had he killed those women twenty years ago?
A young man at the time, he’d been brought in for questioning, but nothing had ever been proven. And now he had enough money to protect himself. He was even a benefactor of this very college.
But supposing he had killed those women. Supposing he had somehow managed to keep those dark urges under control all these years until something had once again unleashed the beast in him.
Elizabeth shivered again as she pulled her coat more tightly around her even though she knew it wouldn’t help. She’d dressed warmly for her outing with Lucian LeCroix, but her chill came not from the day, but from within.
A deep, impenetrable shadow had crept over her soul, and no warmth or light would be allowed in until Bethany Peters’s murderer was found.
LUCIAN WAITED for her outside the library. Dressed elegantly for a Saturday morning in dark slacks and an expensive, tailored overcoat, he stood near the bottom of the steps, his gaze scanning the campus.
Elizabeth wondered what he would think of the faded jeans and scruffy ski jacket she’d donned for the occasion. Her concern had been directed more at the weather than at appearances, obviously, and in that vein, she’d twisted her hair into a loose bun at the back of her neck and pulled a red stocking cap over her ears. She barely resembled the woman he’d met at the ball last evening, and she wasn’t at all certain he would remember her.
But he smiled when she approached, and she saw at once that even without the intriguing mask he’d worn last night, there was still an air of mystery about the man.
It was his eyes, she decided. So dark a brown they almost appeared black, and with a kind of simmering intelligence that made one wonder what he was thinking.
Yes, those eyes were definitely the source of his mystery. And a great deal of his attraction, but not all. He was an extremely handsome man, with an angular face highlighted by glossy jet-black hair which he’d combed straight back. He was only about five-ten or so, but he had that look of intense virility, in spite of his
sophistication, that made him seem all male.
“Hello,” he said, his voice velvety smooth even in the cold.
Elizabeth held up a gloved hand. “Hello. I’m not late, am I?”
“Right on time.” He came down a step or two to join her at the bottom. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up at all, though.”
“Why not?”
“Because of what happened last night.” A shadow moved in his dark eyes. “I heard you were the one who found the body.”
“Who told you that?”
He shrugged. “Once the police arrived, word spread quickly among the guests.”
“I’m sure it did.” Elizabeth gazed out over the frozen campus, thinking again about Bethany. Seeing her body swaying overhead—
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She drew a breath. “No, I was just…remembering.”
His voice lowered with compassion. “It must have been a horrible shock, finding her like that.” He paused. “They said there wasn’t a mark on her body. How do the police know it was murder? Couldn’t it have been suicide?”
“There were…other indications,” Elizabeth said, not wishing to elaborate. “It was obvious she was dead before she was hanged.”
“I guess that would suggest foul play,” he agreed.
Elizabeth tried to shrug off the gloom. “I don’t want to talk about any of that today. It’s a beautiful morning. The sun’s shining….” Murder suddenly seemed a long way off. Evil seemed on holiday. “Let’s just get on with the tour, shall we?”
His gaze slipped over her. If he found her appearance lacking, he hid his disapproval admirably. In fact—
No. She had to be mistaken about that glint in his eyes. First Cullen, and now Lucian LeCroix? It was too much to think, certainly too much to hope, that two such great-looking men—albeit very different ones—could show even a crumb of interest in her.
But Elizabeth could have sworn she’d seen that same glint in Cullen’s gray eyes last night, a hint of something that she very much wanted to believe was attraction. After all these years, he’d finally looked at her as she imagined a man would look at a woman he wanted, as she’d dreamed for a long time that Cullen would gaze at her.
Had she been wrong about that look, though? Had the desire in his eyes been merely an illusion?
Maybe all she’d seen was…surprise. She’d inadvertently shown him an awful lot of cleavage. Cullen had never seen her that way before. It would be perfectly understandable if he’d been taken aback. Shocked, even.
In the cold light of day, that scenario seemed more likely. Especially in view of their history.
“Elizabeth?”
“Hmmm?” She glanced up, remembered suddenly where she was and whom she was with. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about…something.”
“Are you sure you’re up to this?”
“Oh, absolutely. If it’s not too cold for you.”
He smiled. “Actually, I like the cold.”
Elizabeth stared at him for a moment. Wow, she thought absently. He did have a nice smile. A great smile, really. In fact, he was an extraordinary-looking man. He wasn’t Cullen, of course, but his undivided attention was flattering, Elizabeth had to admit.
For the first time in her life, she felt the force of her femininity, that subtle shift in the balance of power between the sexes in her favor. If she wasn’t careful, it could become an intoxicating sensation, she decided.
“I’m ready if you are,” she said.
“In that case, I eagerly place myself in your capable hands.”
She laughed a little at his effusive manner. “So, tell me, have you found a place to stay yet? Are you all settled in?” They started down one of the walkways.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I’ve rented a charming little place on Raven’s Cove. You’ll have to come see it some time.”
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “That would be…nice.” She hurried to change the subject. “The school is quite small, as I’m sure you’re aware. We’ll just walk around a bit if that’s all right with you. There aren’t many classes on Saturday, but you can still get a feel for the campus.”
They began at the far southwest corner, where the high stone wall was buttressed by a thick forest of hardwoods. Heavy branches drooped low over the wall, providing the more daring and athletic students easy access to the outside world after the hated curfew. From there it was only a short hike to a paved road that would lead them past the pistol range and eventually into downtown, or more likely, to the waterfront, where several bars and clubs operated till dawn.
After Brie had had to leave school during her sophomore year, Kat and Elizabeth had been the only two remaining at Heathrow of the original five friends. Kat, no stranger to adventure, had led Elizabeth on some harrowing escapades of their own via those tree branches.
“Consider this a valuable part of your education,” she would tell Elizabeth as they scrambled over the wall. “Something to tell your grandkids about.” Usually dressed in black, and sometimes in leather, Kat would always land on her feet on the other side of the wall, ready for just about anything that came their way. Elizabeth would land on her butt more often than not, but no less game for adventure. Kat brought out the devil in her, as one of their professors had told them once, but Elizabeth had long ago decided that was a good thing.
She wondered briefly what Kat would think of her daring foray into the funeral home last night and her brief encounter later with Cullen at her cottage. “You go, girl,” she could almost hear Kat encouraging her.
“That’s a tantalizing smile, I must say,” Lucian commented.
“Oh, I was just remembering my time here as a student,” Elizabeth said. “Heathrow College is the first place I ever felt truly at home.”
She hadn’t meant to reveal something so personal and was thankful Lucian didn’t pry. He merely stared down at her and said softly, “It’s a nice campus.”
“It is,” she agreed, in spite of the cloud that had descended since Bethany’s death.
Lucian’s eyes were very dark in the sunlight. Deep and mysterious. Elizabeth’s stomach fluttered in uneasiness. It was broad daylight, but the campus was still almost deserted. Hardly anyone was about, and here she stood with a man she knew nothing about.
And a student had been murdered recently. Her body had just been found last night. By Elizabeth.
Earlier, she’d been flattered by Lucian’s attention, but now she merely felt…unsettled. He was older than she, and very smooth. Experienced. She didn’t want him thinking the wrong thing about her. She didn’t want him thinking she was available.
But you are available, a little voice reminded her.
She was, but she didn’t want to be.
They’d crossed the campus by this time and were standing in front of the Natasha Pierce Building of Natural Sciences. Elizabeth glanced around, groping for a harmless topic. “This is our newest building, but, as you can see, the architecture blends quite seamlessly with the rest of the campus. It was designed that way, of course.”
Lucian read the dedication over one of the entrances. “Pierce, as in our hosts last evening?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. This building was constructed almost entirely through donations made by the Pierce Foundation, which was established years ago by a Pierce ancestor who was also a prominent scientist. The family has maintained close ties to the school since its founding. They named the building after their daughter who died five years ago in a boating accident.” Elizabeth started up the steps, shaking off her feelings of sadness at Tasha’s memory. “Would you like to look around inside? The Biology Department is first rate, and the new laboratories are state of the art.” Plus, what safer—and less romantic—environment than the sterile confines of a lab?
“I’ve never had much of an interest in science,” he admitted with a wry smile. “Dissecting frogs and pig embryos isn’t exactly my thing, but I wouldn’t mind having a look around.” As long as you�
��re with me, his eyes seemed to say.
You’re reading too much into this, Elizabeth warned herself as she led the way inside. Lucian was new in town, and she was the first person associated with the school that he’d met last night. He was probably just wanting to be friends.
And she hardly looked glamorous this morning. She was, as she’d always been, just plain Elizabeth Douglas. Smart, yes, and mildly attractive, but nothing to write home about. Not at all the type to inspire a man’s romantic fantasies.
Certainly not a man like Lucian LeCroix. Elizabeth could tell just by looking at him that he’d been with lots of women, and he knew exactly how to treat them. How to woo them. How to make them fall at his feet.
A real lady-killer, Brie would have said.
Trouble, Kat would have warned, while sizing him up from head to toe. And all areas in between.
“Elizabeth?”
She started. “Yes?”
He gave her a quizzical look. “I wonder where you go when you drift off like that.”
“No place interesting.” She shrugged. “Shall we?”
They took the elevator to the lower level where the laboratories were located. The basement was well-lit with several small labs radiating from the main hallway. At the end of the corridor was the largest facility, over ten-thousand square feet of space, implemented with millions of dollars of equipment including Olympus microscopes, Dell Optiplex microcomputers, a Cray C90 supercomputer and a Sorvall MicroUltra centrifuge. Thanks to the Pierces’ passion for science, no expense had been spared.
Through the frosted-glass door that opened from the hallway, Elizabeth could see that the lights were on, and she assumed someone was working, a graduate student monitoring an experiment perhaps.
Secret Sanctuary Page 8
