“So true.” Her full smile was natural and relaxed. “My mum was really good at this stuff and did it on the side. She taught me all I know.”
“What was her day job?”
“She was a primary, um, elementary school teacher. We’d spend most weekends, and some evenings, doing home renovations for people who either lacked the time, interest, or skill to do it themselves.”
Looked like her mom had been a good teacher. In multiple aspects. “My mom was a teacher, too. She homeschooled me and my brothers most of our lives and moonlighted as a college professor a few nights a week.”
“What about your dad?”
“He worked full time in telecommunications. Retired last year.” He glanced beyond her. A closed door occupied space on the wall behind her and an open doorway yawned into a black room on their right. “So let me guess, dining room,” he nodded toward the black opening, “And…?”
“Laundry. Also, the door to the back yard.”
They retraced their steps to the entry hall, where she showed him the half bath, a good-sized coat closet, and the stairs leading to the basement.
A musty smell wafted up and she crinkled her nose. “I hate basements. I’m not sure I’ll even do anything with it, honestly. Except put a lock on this door.”
A lock?
He sent her his best quizzical look, to which she just shrugged. “Security. Those windows are big enough that someone could break in. I’ll put some screamer alarms on those windows, but the lock is another layer of protection.”
Made sense. “Is the basement the full size of the main floor?”
She nodded. “It’s sealed, but still has that dank feel. I don’t do creepy.”
“You could make it a really cool space. Put in a home theater or a game room with a pool table or something.” He grinned. “It could become our team’s hangout space.”
She laughed. “You plan to submit an expense request to cover that? Because I don’t think my budget will stretch that far.”
Closing the door, she wedged a doorstop at the base of the door.
Had she always been this paranoid? He refrained from asking. It was none of his business.
The stairwell stretched up to his right. The bedrooms must all be upstairs.
It had to be close to nine by now. Time for him to get home and get ready to do this all over again tomorrow. “Thanks for the tour. I can’t wait to see it when you’re done.”
“It’ll take a while, but should be a good investment in the long run. I can probably sell it for a hefty profit someday.”
“You won’t keep it?” Why would she flip a house with so much character?
She shrugged. “Probably not. It’s a lot of space for one person.”
It was, but it’d be great for a family. He refrained from saying anything. Her personal life was none of his business. “I should get going. Let you get some rest.”
She followed him to the door and stood in the doorway as he crossed the porch.
She seemed so small, and alone, standing there all by herself.
Such a contrast to the fullness his parents’ house always contained when he left. Thanksgiving flashed into his mind.
It was only about a week away.
What was Kevyn, who had no family, going to do on Thanksgiving?
“Hey, you want to join us for Thanksgiving?” He asked the question before he could think about it any further and talk himself out of it. Somehow, he knew he was supposed to invite her. It was better than letting her sit here alone.
She tilted her head. “Us?”
“Yeah. My parents always have a big gathering at their house. You should come.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but that’s a family thing. I’ll be fine.”
“We always have people come who aren’t family. My brother usually brings at least one of his work friends. Sid always joins us, too.”
“What you’re saying is that you take in strays.” Her grin indicated that she was teasing, even as he felt a defensiveness rise up in him.
“No, I’m saying that people make it fun. And I don’t think people should be alone on Thanksgiving.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t raised here, remember? Thanksgiving doesn’t mean as much to me as it does to most people.”
It wasn’t his place to push. If she wanted to stay here alone and work on her renovations, that was her choice. “Up to you. Offer’s open if you want to take it.”
“I’ll think about it.” She curled her fingers around the edge of the door. “Thanks again for the ride home.”
“No sweat. I’ll call my buddy in the morning to see if he can get your car in.” He continued down the stairs and navigated the crumbling walkway to where his Jeep waited.
What had possessed him to invite her to Thanksgiving, he wasn’t certain. But it felt right.
Okay God. If this was you, then it’s up to you to work it out.
If the invitation wasn’t from God, the whole thing could explode in his face.
₪ ₪ ₪
The shadows welcomed Jax like an old friend as he watched her cross the darkened parking lot.
He didn’t know as much as he’d like about this one, but he’d learned enough to be confident in his selection.
The fact she’d been drinking alone proved it.
Stick-like legs, accentuated by skinny jeans and stiletto heels, looked like they’d snap without the slightest provocation. Her black leather-clad arms looked equally frail. She staggered toward a white car that appeared to be at least ten years old, fishing around in her massive purse as she went.
He shook his head. Clearly inebriated, yet she planned to get behind the wheel? He wasn’t just saving her from her empty life, he was saving her from death.
Removing the cap from the syringe, he stepped from his hiding place and strode toward her.
His eyes roved the empty parking lot, watching for any sign of movement. So far, nothing but the blonde in front of him.
In spite of that, he tugged the brim of the baseball cap down lower over his face.
The purse slipped out of her fingers, scattering its contents across the asphalt. A loud curse bounced off the cars as she crouched to collect her belongings.
He didn’t say a word as he came up behind her and plunged the needle into her neck.
A gasp. She tried to turn to look at him, but the drug was already taking effect.
As she collapsed to the ground, he snatched up her wallet and removed the license.
It only took him a minute to cut out the picture, cross out her information, and arrange the dismantled license to his specifications.
He barely glanced at the other items strewn across the ground.
He’d leave it behind. All of it.
Because none of it mattered anymore. It was tied to her old life, not the life waiting for her.
Besides, someone could come along at any second. All he cared about was her.
He draped her arm around his neck and hefted her to her feet, wrapping his arm tightly around her scrawny waist. A hip bone jutted into his side, evidencing how little there was to this one.
She might be even smaller than Ebony.
In spite of how skinny she was, her dead weight pitched him off balance.
It’d probably be easier if he threw her over his shoulder and carried her that way, but the risk of someone seeing them was too great. It needed to appear as if she’d had too much to drink and he was helping her home.
Ironically, both things were true.
Although she would never again go to her old home. She now belonged to him.
He reached the edge of the parking lot without running into anyone. As he rounded the corner, he almost smacked into two college guys.
“Uh, excuse me,” he mumbled, keeping his head angled down.
He felt the weight of speculation. “Yo, man. She okay?”
He slowed, not wanting to appear as anxious to get away as he really was. “Yeah. She just need
s to sleep it off. My girl never has been able to hold her liquor, know what I mean?”
One of the guys guffawed, a grating obnoxious sound that evidenced too much alcohol. “She looks like a bit of a lightweight.”
The other guy seemed a bit more sober. “You need help with her?”
Seriously. Out of all the people in this city, he had to run into someone who wanted to help? “Nah, kid. Ain’t my first rodeo. I got her. ‘Sides, our apartment’s right up the street.”
Hopefully that’d make them keep walking. And hopefully not into the parking lot where they’d find her purse.
He edged past them and moved forward. With any luck, those guys would do the same.
Forcing himself to walk as normally as he could while dragging an unconscious body, he crossed the street. As he neared the alley where he’d left his SUV, he subtly glanced behind him.
The two college kids were further down the block, moving away from him and his prey.
Good. He really hadn’t wanted to circle the block. After a glance around, he blended into the alley and approached his dark blue vehicle. Propping her up against the rear quarter panel, he opened the rear passenger door and pushed her into the back seat.
That drug would keep her out for hours. Plenty of time to get her home.
He rounded the vehicle and climbed behind the wheel.
Better wait a few minutes for those kids to get even further away. It wouldn’t do for them to see his vehicle pulling out.
Two minutes ticked by slowly.
Surely that was enough time.
He started the car and pulled out of the alley.
No sign of the college guys.
He’d done it. Again.
A thrill shot through him as he turned toward home.
He was good. And no one could stop him.
With the radio off, he heard every sound. Sirens coming from several blocks over. Police? Had her purse been found already?
It was possible, but he was far enough away that they wouldn’t know it was him.
A weird sound came from behind him. Movement.
But she couldn’t possibly be awake already!
As he passed beneath a street light, he glanced back.
The woman convulsed on the seat. Her breathing was labored and her whole body twitched unnaturally.
He needed to find a place, away from cameras and prying eyes, to see what was going on.
An industrial district was only a few blocks up. There shouldn’t be too many people around at this time of night.
The noises from the back seat intensified.
A hint of panic lit through him. What was going on? This had never happened before!
He pulled up to the curb in front of a graffiti covered building. The boarded-over windows told him the place hadn’t been in use for a while, which meant there shouldn’t be any security cameras.
Shifting into park, he unbuckled and twisted around in his seat.
The woman had gone still. Too still.
He looked up and down the block.
No sign of anyone. As expected.
He shoved open his door and quickly climbed into the back.
Hair covered her face and he brushed it aside. Spittle bubbled around her lips. Her closed eyes indicated that she was still out cold, but something didn’t feel right.
There was a stillness that iced his veins.
He put a hand in front of her mouth and nose. No movement of air brushed his fingers.
The skin of her neck was warm as he felt for a pulse. He moved his fingers around to several different places.
Nothing.
He leaned back and stared at the woman.
Dead. His newest acquisition was dead.
Eight
Kevyn’s phone dinged with the incoming text.
Who would be texting at six in the morning?
She kept toweling off her hair.
Whoever it was could wait a few minutes.
Funny how the early morning texts no longer filled her with dread. Since her mum died, she had no one else to lose.
She wrapped her hair in the towel turban-style and reached for her phone.
Dak.
She figured it had to be work related.
Need a ride?
Oh yeah.
She’d forgotten her car wasn’t sitting outside like it should be.
Ugh. She should say no. After all, she didn’t know him well enough to be such a burden in his life.
But if she declined, how would she make it to work? A cab?
Sounded a little expensive.
Well, he’d offered. It wasn’t like she’d asked him to do it. And he’d seemed willing enough last night.
She tapped out a reply. If it’s not too much trouble.
No trouble. Be there at seven.
A check of the time showed she had almost an hour. More than enough time to get herself put together and eat some fruit and yogurt.
As she twisted her hair up in a clip, her mind drifted to the previous evening. Dak had been surprisingly pleasant company.
And it had felt good to have someone to hang out with, even though it was because her car was dead.
A problem she hoped to remedy today.
As she ate her yogurt, her mind drifted to his invitation to Thanksgiving dinner. What if she went? She’d never celebrated it, not even since moving to the United States almost five years ago. It might be fun.
It sure beat being alone, right?
At three minutes ‘til seven, a sharp rap came from her front door.
Early. No surprise there.
He greeted her with a steaming cup. No logo adorned the cup, but the disposable nature of it, complete with plastic lid and cardboard cozy, indicated he’d purchased it somewhere. “I took the liberty of picking up something for you. Hope you like mocha.”
“Thanks. I’ve never had one.”
“Never?”
“Black coffee, sure. And Flat Whites, but never a mocha.”
“A Flat what?”
“Flat White. Think latte, only better. It’s an Aussie thing. Hard to find stateside, but I make a bonza cup. I’ll make you one sometime.” After locking the deadbolt, she took the offered cup. “Thanks. I really appreciate the rides. And the coffee.”
“Of course.”
Warmth seeped through the cardboard into her fingers and the smell of roasted coffee was heavenly. She waited until she’d settled in the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt before tasting it.
A blend of bold roast with a hint of chocolate exploded in her mouth. “Mmmm. This is just what I needed.”
He backed out of her driveway and turned toward downtown. “There’s a little privately owned espresso stand not far from my house. I gotta admit I’m addicted to their blend.”
“I can see why. It’s great.” This was about as far from a Flat White as they came, but it rivaled the Flat White for flavor.
“I texted my buddy. He said he can tow your car this morning, if you’re open to that.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I’ll reach out to him once we get to the office.”
A phone rang.
Kevyn automatically reached for hers, even as it registered that the sound was coming through the Jeep’s speakers.
Dak pressed a button to answer the call. “Lakes.”
The man on the other end, some agent that she hadn’t yet met, directed them to a crime scene downtown. “Looks like it’s tied to one of your current cases.”
Although Dak asked a few questions, the agent didn’t have any additional details to offer. As Dak terminated the call, he glanced over at her. “Looks like your car will have to wait a bit.”
She waved away the thought. “It’s a car. This is a person. No contest.”
Although she did need her car back.
Man, did she hope it was a simple fix and that Dak’s friend worked fast.
While he drove, Dak used voice commands to call the rest of t
he team to meet them at the crime scene.
Kevyn half-listened while her mind reviewed the details of the case. Was she missing something?
No criminal was perfect. This one had to have left clues behind.
She simply wasn’t seeing them.
She spotted several police cruisers a few blocks up, their swirling red and blue lights bathing the area in an otherworldly glow.
As Dak pulled up to the curb, she placed her coffee in a cupholder and shoved her purse beneath the seat. No hiding her laptop, but there was enough of a police presence that she doubted anyone would break into the vehicle.
They approached the fray.
Police tape cordoned off a small parking lot that was sandwiched between a bar and a high-end salon. The officer standing guard at the perimeter watched them approach.
Dak held out his badge. “FBI. We were called down here.”
After being waved back, they ducked under the crime scene tape. Several uniforms and two plain-clothes officers stood near an older model white car.
Items littered the ground around it, but she was too far away to tell what they were.
The closer she got, the more she was able to make out. A purse, wallet, cell phone, and lipstick were among the items on the ground.
The plain clothes officers were the first to notice them. “You the agents we were told to wait for?”
Irritation lined the words. He clearly wasn’t thrilled with having to babysit a crime scene while waiting for the FBI to show up.
Dak wasted little time on introductions. “What’ve we got?”
“You tell us. They said this is connected to your case.”
Something on the ground caught her attention. She moved closer.
A driver’s license with the picture removed. Crossed out information. What appeared to be six inches separating the picture from the rest of the license.
Definitely connected to their case.
She squatted beside the license.
A young woman with bleach-blonde hair and large dark eyes stared from the photo. High cheekbones, hollowed cheeks, and a heart-shaped face gave her a frail appearance.
She checked the woman’s name. Paula Lennox.
She sensed someone come up beside her and didn’t have to turn to know it was Dak.
Nameless (Sinister Secrets Book 1) Page 9
