The Profiler

by Chris Taylor

  Casting around in the darkness, Ellie searched frantically for a sign that Clayton was on his way. The only illumination came from the distant glow of street lights. For a moment, she thought she heard the sound of sirens, but a few seconds later, she realized she’d imagined it. The night was still and quiet.

  Her heart sank. Fear renewed its grip on her mind. Lex pushed her hard from behind and she fell into the cart with a cry. Unable to use her hands to cushion her fall, she collapsed awkwardly against the hard, rusted metal. Pain shot through her hip and radiated along her spine. Her ribs and belly were engulfed in fire. She couldn’t move.

  “Move over,” Wilson shouted. “There’s hardly enough room as it is.”

  Tears of pain rolled down Ellie’s cheeks. “I-I can’t,” she gasped. “It-it hurts.”

  “It’s gonna hurt a hell of a lot more when I start with the saw.” He shoved her hard with his shoulder. She gasped from the agony the movement caused. “Now, get over.”

  Moments later, the sound of a motor started and Wilson scrambled in behind her. The flashlight glinted off something metallic in his hand. When Ellie realized it was a hacksaw, her blood iced over.

  Biting her lip against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her, she closed her eyes against the nightmare unraveling before her and prayed for the end to be quick.

  * * *

  Clayton broke every record known to man in his haste to get to the theme park. A couple of miles from the park, he ordered everyone to cut their sirens and lights. No use giving the bastard a heads-up that they were onto him.

  Seven minutes after he left the police station, he brought the police vehicle to a sliding stop outside a high chain fence. Followed closely by Luke, he leaped out of the car, a pair of heavy wire cutters in his hand.

  Within seconds, he’d cut a hole large enough to allow entry. Shouldering his way through, Clayton paused only long enough to take directions from Luke before forging onward into the dark shadows that apparently housed the roller coaster.

  Tugging his revolver out of the holster, Clayton eased off the safety and crept forward on silent feet. The sudden sputter of an engine nearby startled him. He spun on his heel in the direction of the sound. Luke came to halt behind him, swearing under his breath.

  “What the hell is that?” Clayton’s whisper was harsh in the stillness.

  “I don’t know. Sounds like some kind of motor.”

  “It’s coming from over there.” Clayton indicated with his chin, hoping Luke could see him in the dimness.

  “That’s where the roller coaster is.”

  Blood pulsed heavily in Clayton’s veins. Dread tightened his gut. Was Ellie even now at the roller coaster, at the mercy of a madman? Signaling to Luke, he started in the direction of the noise, the other officer close on his heels.

  * * *

  The cart made its slow ascent along the steep steel rail, squealing raucously in protest. Ellie clung to the side with her fingernails, even as the bindings around her wrists cut into her flesh. The cart rattled and swayed alarmingly, sending renewed shivers of fear coursing down her spine.

  Behind her, Wilson cackled in glee, shouting above the sound of the generator about the wonderful evening and the magnificent view of the city lights, far in the distance.

  When the cart reached the top, he fiddled with some kind of contraption on the side of it and brought it to a stop. Ellie was grateful the inky dullness of the night camouflaged the full extent of their position, high above the ground.

  A flimsy, wooden maintenance platform hung precariously at the top of the rollercoaster. Wilson yelled at her above the noise of the motor and prodded her once again with the Taser.

  “Get out.”

  With no choice but to do as she was told, Ellie stumbled awkwardly and half fell onto the platform. It creaked and swayed and she cried out in terror. The madman behind her laughed.

  Joining her on the platform, he spread his arms wide.

  “Does it get any better than this?”

  Ellie shuddered and willed herself not to look down.

  Wilson stepped closer and slid the back of his hand down her cheek in a slow caress. “I waited and waited for something special. I was always taught patience is a virtue.”

  Ellie tensed. Her heart thudded inside her chest. Fear, more terrifying than anything she’d felt before, paralyzed her, leaving her powerless to do anything but stare at her tormenter in horror. He turned away and moments later, swung around to face her, brandishing the hacksaw.

  Sheer desperation and a realization she no longer had anything to lose, took over. Adrenaline surged through her. Despite the agony in her chest, she thrashed around in a frenzy of motion, using her bound hands to attack him.

  With the gag still tightly ensconced in her mouth, she snatched tiny breaths of air through the filthy rag, throwing her head from side to side while she battled to get away. Her moans of distress and terror were little more than faint mewlings through the thick cloth, but she refused to give in.

  “Easy now, easy,” Wilson crooned, his hand grappling with a rope that he’d produced from his belt. “Don’t fight me. It is what it is. From the moment you climbed into my cab, there was never any doubt. You’re mine.”

  He inched closer, the rope hanging loosely from his fingers, the hacksaw discarded on the platform—for the time being.

  Fear, dark and impenetrable filled Ellie’s mouth. She retched and fought and tried to scream.

  He flung the rope around her and pulled it taut, almost knocking her off her feet. She screamed again, the sound barely registering as the terror she’d tried so hard to hold at bay almost overwhelmed her.

  With quick and efficient movements that spoke of previous experience, he secured the rope to the platform. Within moments, she was once again immobilized. Standing above her, he brandished the hacksaw, grinning maniacally. She flung her head from side to side in increasing desperation. Despite her efforts, the saw tasted her skin. She could do no more than whimper.

  * * *

  Clayton came to a halt at the foot of the roller coaster and watched in helpless fury as the cart containing Ellie and the man who sought to kill her, rattled its way to the top. Slipping the safety on his revolver, he thrust the weapon back into the holster and paced the ground while he took a few seconds to assess the situation.

  Fear surged through him at the thought of climbing so high. His breath shortened, tightening his chest. He sucked air deep into his lungs in an effort to overcome his panic. Terror for the woman he loved congealed into a cold, dark mass of determination. There was nothing for it: He had make the ascent.

  Drawing in a couple more gulps of oxygen, he pushed his own fears aside, knowing he had to go up there after her, despite his own weaknesses. If Ellie died, he’d never forgive himself. He’d lived with that kind of guilt for too long. He refused to make the same mistake again. Steeling himself against his panic, he glanced at Luke who watched him with concern.

  “Are you all right, Clayton?”

  With his lips compressed into a rigid line and unable to form words if his life depended upon it, he gave Luke a tight nod and lifted his foot onto the first step. He would conquer his fear of heights—or he would die trying.

  “What the hell are you doing? You can’t go up there without a harness. You don’t even know if it’ll hold your weight. If it gives, you’re good as dead! Wait for some of the others to arrive. They’ll—”

  “No.” It was all Clayton could manage, but he tried to convey all that he felt as his gaze burned into Luke’s. Ignoring the sputtering of protests that erupted from the other officer’s lips, Clayton leaped into the next cart. It rattled and banged as it made the ascent and he clung with fierce determination to the old steel sides.

  Keeping his gaze directed steadfastly on the couple above him, he was thankful the night made it impossible for him to fully register how high he was above the ground. It also meant it was unlikely Wilson had seen him and he was hop
eful the noise from the generator below him would conceal the rattling of his cart.

  The cart ahead of him came to a halt. He looked up as Ellie fell onto a rickety platform. He caught the glint of metal off the teeth of a saw and his heart iced in fear.

  The distance between them yawned in front of him and he chafed at every second it took to close the gap. He reached for the gun in his holster and swung it in Wilson’s direction.

  “Drop your weapon,” he shouted. “Step away from her! Now!”

  Wilson stood and faced him, his eyes wide with surprise. The saw swung wildly in his hand. “Fuck off. She’s mine.” Turning back to Ellie, he lifted the saw and lowered it over her neck.

  Clayton squeezed the trigger and fired.

  EPILOGUE

  Ellie’s bruises had finally started to fade. From greenish-blue to purple and then to mustardy-yellow, they’d covered half the colors of the rainbow. The gash where the knife had sliced across her neck had scabbed over, but the doctors had warned her she would bear a scar.

  Her back rested against the smooth trunk of an ancient fig tree in the middle of Sydney’s Hyde Park. Clayton’s head rested in her lap. She moved her position slightly in an effort to lessen the dull throb in her chest. The broken ribs were still healing. She was glad that was the only damage.

  Drawing in a deep breath of the warm spring sunshine, heavily perfumed with an abundance of flowers, she stroked a hand over Clayton’s stubbled cheeks.

  “Mm, that feels nice,” he murmured, his eyes remaining closed.

  Her fingers moved into his hair and massaged gently over his scalp.

  “Ah, I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven. Don’t stop, please.” A grin tugged at his lips and she found her lips pulling upward in response.

  “You’re a man easily pleased, Munro.”

  His eyes opened, and he squinted up at her through the dappled sunlight. “A psychopathic murderer dead and buried. A day off to have a picnic in the park with a beautiful woman; what’s not to like about that?”

  She shuddered at the mention of Lex Wilson. Clayton’s eyes darkened with concern.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have mentioned him.”

  Ellie bit her lip to keep it from wobbling and drew in a deep breath. “I can’t believe he’d killed for so long. When he started talking about all those poor women he’d murdered over the past three years. He actually laughed when he told us he only chose the ones no one loved.”

  Clayton nodded in grim agreement. “I still can’t get over how he went from making wooden dolls to creating a doll from human body parts. I mean, what kind of sick bastard does that?”

  “He did have a tough childhood.”

  “Lots of people have tough childhoods. It doesn’t turn them into homicidal maniacs.”

  She thought of Wilson’s wife and young children. Though Ellie harbored some doubts the woman was as shocked by the discovery of her husband’s actions as she’d claimed, there was simply not enough evidence to charge her as an accessory.

  It was the children Ellie felt sorry for. She couldn’t imagine the devastation Wilson’s secret life would wreak on their lives. Still, there was nothing she could do about it. Besides, she was having enough trouble getting her head sorted.

  Ellie shuddered. She was lucky to be alive. She knew that. Wilson was dead. The city was safe. She was safe.

  As if sensing her fragility, Clayton sat up and shuffled across the picnic rug until he was close to her side. A strong arm came around her and pulled her to his chest.

  She sighed. “I’m okay. It’s just that…sometimes I can’t bear to think about it… And Jamie…”

  Clayton shook his head. “I still can’t believe the bastard was the hit and run driver who killed him. It seems absolutely incredible, and yet the proof was there. We’ll never know why.”

  “That’s part of the reason I’m still not sleeping well. I’ll never have those answers. Did he mean to kill my son? Was it an accident?”

  Clayton hugged her tightly. “Give it time. It’s only been a few weeks. And you came so close. I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been. People take months, years even, to get over that kind of trauma.”

  Remembered fear weighed down her limbs. “I’m so glad you got there in time,” she whispered.

  The look in his eyes intensified. He pulled her in hard against him. “I thought I was going to lose you. The terror I felt when I got your message—my entire world came crashing down around me. I’d only just found you. I’d only just given myself permission to love again and you were snatched from me. It was happening all over again.” His voice broke.

  His hold on her tightened, his expression fierce. A few moments later, he drew in a deep breath and released it on a shudder. “I can barely remember what went on that night. I know I practically forced Ben to give me a gun. And when I had to go up in that damned cart, I thought I was going to die. But fear of heights or not, there was no way in the world I was going to sit back and let someone else do their best to save you. It mightn’t have been good enough.”

  Ellie’s voice was muffled against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. “You couldn’t save Lisa, so you wanted to save me.”

  Another shudder went through him. It was a long moment before he responded. “I lied to you, Ellie.”

  Apprehension knotted in her stomach. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. He drew in a deep breath and let it out on a sad sigh.

  “What is it, Clayton?”

  He met her gaze. “You asked me once if I’d ever buried a child and I told you no. But the truth is, I have.”

  She stared at him, confused. “Why would you lie about it?”

  He shrugged, his eyes willing her to understand. “You were upset with me about Jamie. I didn’t want to trivialize his death with my own story.”

  “What happened?” she asked softly.

  Clayton stared off across the park, his gaze clouded with memories. Ellie found his hand and squeezed it, reassured when he returned the pressure.

  “Dominic was the reason Lisa and I were married. Not that we weren’t going to anyway, but we’d always planned to do it after we’d finished college, put some money behind us first, that sort of thing.”

  His gaze bounced off hers. “Lisa went into labor early. He was born premature. Way too premature.” Another ragged breath. Ellie tightened her hold and remained silent.

  Pain etched itself on his face. “He only lived two days.”

  Her stomach clenched. She felt his quiet sadness and then she felt her guilt. She’d accused him of not knowing what it meant to bury a child. She’d felt so self-righteous in her grief, as if her grief meant more than his. She’d been a selfish, self-centered bitch.

  And he hadn’t said a word.

  “Clayton.” She rasped his name. A lump of self-loathing lodged itself in her throat. “How you must have hated me.”

  Surprise flooded his face. “Hated you? Why would I hate you?”

  She shrugged helplessly. “The things I said to you, accused you of. You never once defended yourself. I was such a bitch. I can’t believe how selfish and conceited and awful I was. And you didn’t say anything.”

  “I wasn’t trying to score points with you, Ellie. You were hurting as much as I was. None of us can really know how someone else grieves.” He leaned over to brush a loose strand of hair off her face, his touch tender and full of love. “All we can hope is to understand at least a part of their need to do it in their own way, and in their own time. And make sure they know that we’ll be there waiting for them when it’s over.”

  The breath left her body in a rush. She threw her arms around him. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

  He kissed her softly, mindful of her injuries. “I love you, too, Ellie. More than I ever dreamed possible. I can’t wait for you to move in with me and start our life together.”

  Ellie pulled back as uncertainty fil
led her. “You want me to move to Canberra?”

  He nodded, his eyes shadowed with hope. “Would you do that?”

  Emotions overwhelmed her. There was a little sadness at the thought of leaving Sydney, but mostly joy at the thought of sharing a new life with Clayton. Noticing the increasing tension around his mouth, she offered him an encouraging smile. “Are you sure you want that right away? What about Olivia? What is she going to say?”

  Clayton’s face lit up. “I think she’ll be happy that her daddy is happy. It’s been a long time since she’s seen me smile. Really smile.”

  “I hope she likes me.”

  Clayton pulled her close and pressed another kiss on her lips. “She’ll love you as much as I do. There’s nothing surer.”

  NOTE TO READERS

  I do hope you have enjoyed reading about the first hunky Munro brother as much as I have enjoyed creating him. Clayton’s story came to me after listening to a song by Diamond Rio called “I Believe”. It’s a beautiful song about love and loss and hope and it is all that I dreamed Clayton to be.

  Of course, he needed Ellie to bring him through the pain of his loss and to see life was still worth living. Ellie, sharp, cantankerous, but with a heart of gold, hiding her own pain behind a wall of sarcasm and irritability. I love Ellie, with all her faults and failings. I love what she does for Clayton and I love what he does for her. They complement each other and that’s what true love is all about.

  In Book Two of the Munro Family Series, you will meet another Munro brother. The Investigator is Riley Munro’s story and he’s every bit as gorgeous as his twin. Here’s a sneak peek:

  A woman who thought she could run away from her past…

  At fourteen, Kate Collins ran away from home. Ten years later, her mother has disappeared without a trace. Faced with no other choice, she returns home. Kate’s convinced her stepfather’s responsible, but he’s a highly decorated police officer. Who will take her accusations seriously?