Profile of Terror: Book Two of Profile Series

by Alexa Grace

  Just then, Kaitlyn appeared on the front porch, dragging behind her two large pieces of luggage.

  "Looks like you talked her into moving into the main house."

  "After her house was shot up, it didn't take much persuading."

  "Don't blame her."

  Running to the porch, Gabe secured the luggage. "Cam, this is Kaitlyn Reece. Kaitlyn, this is my brother, Cam."

  "Hi, Cam. Welcome to our shooting." Kaitlyn made an attempt at a smile. "You two look a lot alike. One could certainly tell you are brothers."

  "So I'm told. It's good to meet you, Kaitlyn. Wish it were under better circumstances."

  Gabe led her to the garage, where he opened the door and packed the luggage into her car. He helped her into the passenger side, and then got behind the steering wheel after he pushed the seat back as far as it would go. VWs like Kaitlyn's weren't designed for big men like himself. He felt the metal Matchbox car in his pocket rest against his thigh. Turning the key in the ignition, he glanced at Kaitlyn and thought of how he longed to see his Cat again. He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly and quickly on the lips. "I'll keep you safe, Kaitlyn." Losing her again was not going to happen. Not on his watch.

  <><><>

  Evan crept across the dining room and into the family room where his father's gun collection was kept in a gleaming mahogany gun cabinet. Unlocking the cabinet door with the key he'd found in the top drawer of his father's dresser, he quickly but carefully placed the AK-47 in its place among the nine other guns his father had collected. A creaking sound in the floor startled him, and he spun around until he was face-to-face with Devan.

  "What the fuck is going on? Where have you been with Dad's AK-47? Are you suicidal or just stupid?" Devan demanded.

  "Be quiet before you wake up everyone in the house."

  Evan locked the cabinet, slipped the key in his pocket, and climbed the stairs to his bedroom, with Devan close on his heels.

  "You didn't answer me. What were you doing with the old man's assault rifle?"

  "I was shooting rats at the old junkyard," Evan lied. Who knew what Devan would do to him if he found out he'd been to Kaitlyn Reece's house and used the rifle to give her a good scare. It was a bonus that Gabe Chase had been there. Not that Devan would get that. Not that he'd ever tell Devan about it.

  "Since when do you shoot rats at the junkyard without me?" asked Devan suspiciously.

  "You were at football practice, and I didn't want to wait until you got home."

  "Next time, wait for me."

  "Is that an order? Since when do I need a chaperone?"

  "Since I say you do," barked Devan, as he drilled his index finger into Evan's chest.

  "Sure, whatever you say, Devan." The last thing he needed was for his anger-ball brother to go ballistic and wake up his parents. The punishment for being out this late would be grounding for a month with no access to his cell phone, laptop or any other electronic device. Who knows what his militaristic father would do to him if he found out he took his prized AK-47 from the gun cabinet without permission.

  <><><>

  Gabe sat on the bed in the suite Kaitlyn chose and watched her unpack. One-by-one she pulled out each article of clothing and hung it neatly in the closet.

  "Am I safe in here unpacking?" Kaitlyn asked.

  "Yes, why?"

  "I was just wondering why you were guarding me."

  Gabe pulled out the Matchbox car, holding it in the palm of his hand.

  Kaitlyn snatched it from him. "What are you doing with this? Did you take it from my bookcase?"

  "It's a great replica of a Pontiac Firebird. Where did you get it?"

  "I can't remember. I just know I've had it since the second grade. I asked my mom about it. But she doesn't know where I got it. She said I refused to let go of it, even in the hospital as they wheeled me to the operating room."

  Kaitlyn turned to place the toy car on the top of her dresser.

  "Cat?"

  Hearing her old nickname, she whirled around. "Why did you call me that?"

  "I started calling you 'Cat' in the second grade. When my school bus passed your house, there was always a cat in every window. So Cat became my pet name for you."

  "You knew me in the second grade?" Kaitlyn asked, bewildered.

  Gabe nodded and then asked, "May I see your toy car? I want to show you something."

  Handing him the car, she sat next to him on the bed and watched as he turned the car to show her its underside. "My brother, Brody, used a nail to scratch the letter 'C' for Chase on all of our metal Matchbox cars and trucks. This isn't just any Matchbox car. It's a 1976 Pontiac Firebird in metallic blue, exactly like the one my mom drove in high school. I gave this to you, Cat. You were my best friend in the second grade, and I've been missing you since the day you were taken away from the schoolyard in an ambulance."

  Sadness entered Kaitlyn's eyes as she gazed at him, along with a vulnerability he hadn't seen before. "I wish I could remember you. There were all sorts of things I couldn't remember after the surgery. But you shouldn't have been one of them. I think, subconsciously, I remember our friendship. Mom said I was fierce about the toy car. A nurse tried to take it from me before they wheeled me into the operating room and I bit her."

  Gabe liked the thought that something he'd given to her, even in the second grade, meant that much to her. He could feel the warmth of her body as she pressed against him, placing her small hand in his.

  "Mom said everyone thought Ralphie Smith had seriously injured me when he pushed me down."

  "I did, too. That's why I picked a fight with him and he kicked my seven-year-old ass."

  "Oh, Gabe, it wasn't his fault," Kaitlyn began. "His mother brought Ralphie to the hospital to make him apologize. I had a mild concussion, but that isn't why I passed out. It was far more serious than that. I had what is called an atrial septal defect."

  "What's that?"

  "Basically, it's a hole in the heart. Many children have them, but mine was large and was negatively impacting my health. My doctors felt it was best if they performed open heart surgery to stitch it closed."

  Kaitlyn paused for a second, and then stood before him, pulling her shirt up over her head to reveal a long white scar that ran from just under the hollow in her throat, to in-between, and below her breasts. "That's how I got this."

  "Cat, I'm sorry." Gabe took a deep, cleansing breath to soothe the apprehension that filled him as he thought of how close he'd come to losing her forever.

  "Why didn't you say anything about it when we made love?"

  Lightly running his finger down the scar, he said, "I didn't notice it. If I had, I would have told you how beautiful I think it is. Without the surgery, you might not be with me now. Your scar tells the story that you survived. And for that I will be forever grateful."

  With his large hands, Gabe encircled her waist, pulling her closer until she stood between his legs as he sat on the bed. Removing her bra, he dropped it to the floor, and then removed her panties. He trailed light kisses from the beginning of the scar to the ending, his hot breath softly fanning her skin. Burying her hands in his thick hair, she sighed with pleasure. There was no fighting her overwhelming need to touch him, to be close to his warmth. Her body ached for his touch.

  Standing, Gabe reclaimed her lips, one hand on her back and the other on her bottom, crushing her soft body against him, building a fiery heat that rushed through her like a forest fire. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips and explored the recesses of her mouth until her every cell erupted with a need. Gabe effortlessly picked her up and laid her gently on the bed.

  He began a slow and sexy strip tease as he lifted his shirt above his head and tossed it aside, revealing a broad chest, muscled arms, and impressive biceps without an ounce of fat. His body radiated strength, determination and heat. She lay there on her back watching him, wanting him. He pulled a foil packet from his pocket and laid it on the table. As if in slow motion, h
e unzipped his jeans, kicked off his shoes, and pushed his pants to the floor until he was completely naked. Stretching out alongside her, he kissed her until she was drunk with desire.

  Balancing himself on his elbows, he hovered above her, kissing her with his entire body, igniting a bone-melting fire that spread through her blood. He took the foil packet from the table, opened it with his teeth, and covered himself. His fingers found the nub of her passion as his steel drove into her. Then he pumped and thrust, rocking her hips, sending her into a heated frenzy from which she thought she may not recover. Shaking with desire, he groaned as she clung to him desperately, as they tumbled over the last edge of pleasure, unable to wait another second.

  He whispered something in his low, sexy voice as he planted gentle kisses on her face and neck, before he rolled off her. He lay next to her, pulling the sheet to their waists, when she asked, "What was it you whispered to me?"

  He grasped her face and held it gently, kissing her slowly and thoughtfully. "I love you, Cat. I don't think it's too soon to tell you. I think I've loved you since I was seven-years-old."

  <><><>

  "I hear we have another victim," said Bradley Lucas, as he entered Brody's office without knocking. Bradley plopped down in one of the visitor's chairs in front of Brody's desk and waited for an answer, as if he had asked a question.

  "Hello to you, too, Mr. Lucas," Brody offered sarcastically.

  Bradley Lucas was the county commission president, making him the sheriff's direct supervisor. He could be a horse's ass when he wanted to, throwing his weight around like an Army general.

  "I thought our agreement was that you brief me immediately after the event. Why did I find out we have another murder on our hands from the morning news?"

  "I spent most of the night at the crime scene and then the autopsy," Brody replied.

  "You should have called me to the crime scene when it was first discovered."

  "We had too many people at that crime scene as it was, putting the forensic evidence in jeopardy," said Brody, annoyed that Lucas felt it was his right to be at a crime scene, even though he was a civilian.

  "Next time anything like this happens, you call me first," Bradley commanded, his face red and blotchy with anger.

  "The victim is Destiny Cooke."

  "The beauty queen?" Bradley interrupted. "Shit. Nothing like taking out the county darling. What kind of animals did this?"

  Shrugging, Brody continued, "Where we found her on the veranda of the Morel Hotel is the secondary crime scene. She was murdered somewhere else, then the killers brought her to the hotel and duct-taped her body to a rocking chair."

  "Well, the surveillance tape should tell us who did it."

  "Sure would, if any surveillance cameras existed at the hotel. But none do. The owners are spending their money on renovating the building, not security."

  Lucas shook his head with obvious frustration. "Well, shit. What else do you know?"

  "Just like Abby Reece, Destiny died of asphyxiation when she was smothered inside the plastic bag we found covering her head."

  Grimacing, Bradley said, "What a way to die."

  "We think there are two killers. One secures the plastic bag with duct tape around her neck, while the other one holds her down as she struggles to breathe."

  "Any prints?"

  "We got a partial print on the duct tape wound around Abby Reece's neck. No prints at all in Destiny's case."

  "Any hits on the partial print?"

  "Nope, which means at least one of our perps doesn't have a criminal record, making it that much harder to find the bastards."

  "Speaking of Abby Reece, I heard a rumor that your brother, Gabe, was involved with her."

  Glaring at him, Brody answered, "My brother was cleared of any involvement with her murder by a detective with the Indiana State Police. And you knew that before you asked me the question."

  "You won't hear about either of my sons being involved with a murder investigation. The brother of the county sheriff shouldn't be either. It puts a suspicious cloud over the entire department."

  "That so?"

  "I have to tell you I am getting a lot of complaints about your performance with the Ryder case. I mean, the killer was a deputy in your own department. People are asking me why it took so long for you to catch him."

  "What do you tell them?"

  Ignoring his question, Bradley said, "I'm up for re-election next year. Don't expect me to fall on the sword for you, Brody. Not going to happen."

  "I've never asked you to put your neck out for me."

  "If these killings continue, it's a matter of time until the board asks for your badge."

  "If the board thinks they can do a better job, they can have my fucking badge."

  Both tempers at a flashpoint, Brody knew they'd accomplish nothing by continuing the conversation so he changed the subject. "How are your sons? I heard one of them got a touchdown at the game last Friday night."

  "Dev almost won that game single-handedly," Bradley boasted. "He should have no problem getting an athletic scholarship for college."

  "How's Evan doing?"

  "He's still holding his own grade-wise. We're hoping he can snag an academic scholarship."

  <><><>

  Kaitlyn followed Gabe inside the hangar on their property. The structure was giant and held the sheriff department helicopter, as well as several vehicles.

  "Who flies the copter?" Kaitlyn asked.

  "I do, when I'm needed. All three of us are licensed pilots."

  "Is there anything you can't do, Mr. Chase?"

  "I plan on showing you what I can do later tonight, Ms. Cat," A broad grin split Gabe's face.

  Giggling, Kaitlyn pointed to three vehicles parked next to her VW, which they'd hidden here earlier. "Which of those did your brother say we could use?"

  "They all have tinted glass, so you can pick. Which one do you want?"

  "I like this one. It's a Mercedes, right?"

  "Yes, this is the Mercedes SUV GL-550 in steel gray. Nice choice, Cat."

  "I always wanted to test-drive a Mercedes SUV. Not that I'll be buying one anytime soon on a teacher's salary."

  "Here's the deal," said Gabe. "I'll drive you to school each morning and pick you up in the afternoon."

  "Then we'll go to your office, right?"

  "No. There is a good chance the killers saw you coming in or out of my office, so we're staying away from it. I have enough computer equipment to work from home, so that's what I'll do."

  "Okay, but what if they are watching the school? They'll see me enter and exit."

  "We're going to talk to Carly about disguising you. She's worked a lot of undercover assignments."

  "Hey, did I hear my name?" Carly entered the hangar and joined them near the SUV. "Welcome, Kaitlyn. I'm so glad you'll be staying here. I need a little help breaking up all the testosterone on this property."

  "Hi, Carly. It is good to see you again," Kaitlyn said, as the two women hugged.

  "Gabe is right. I have some ideas on disguising you so the killers will have a hard time determining whether it is you. Come with me to the Honeymoon Cottage, and I'll show you some of my wigs and makeup tricks."

  <><><>

  Kaitlyn followed Carly up the staircase to the loft, where one of the walls was a floor-to-ceiling window that offered a beautiful view of the trees and lake beyond. The large bed had an oak, vintage Eastlake headboard with geometrical elements and lightly incised carvings.

  "That has to be the most beautiful bed I've ever seen," Kaitlyn exclaimed.

  "It belonged to Dr. and Mrs. Chase," said Carly. "Did Gabe tell you the story behind the Honeymoon Cottage?"

  "No." Kaitlyn shook her head.

  "Dr. Chase built this house as a wedding present to his bride. They lived here until the main house was built."

  "That is so romantic."

  "I agree. The little touches he added to the house says a lot about how much he loved her."<
br />
  Carly went to a closet and dragged a small trunk to the middle of the room. Pulling open the lid, she waved for Kaitlyn to join her on the floor as she withdrew some dresses.

  "We look to be the same size, so these dresses should fit you. I was a school teacher in one of the roles I played, so there should be some appropriate clothing for you."

  Kaitlyn withdrew a long halter dress with sparkling rhinestones on the silky black fabric. She held it against her. "Why do I have the feeling that this sexy number wasn't used in your school teacher role?"