Why (Stalker Series Book 2)

by Megan Mitcham

  “Gen.” Perry stepped back and motioned her into his office with a Vanna gesture of his own. “Inside.”

  It wasn’t a request.

  She drew herself taut and stepped into the clutches of a cold-blooded killer. Sweat created a fine sheen over her chest, but she still smiled. This wasn’t the first monster she’d dealt with, but it was the first to wholeheartedly fool her into thinking he was something else. Shame on her for allowing it.

  Perry closed the door behind her, and then stood there like a wall, imposing and so close. She’d expected him to move toward his desk. “It sounds bad, I know.”

  Gen opened her mouth to rebut.

  He raised a hand. “Your fair skin gives you away every time.” His hands disappeared into his pants pockets, and he shrugged. “We were together a few times before …”

  They both knew what it was before.

  Her heart turned to concrete in her chest and dropped to the ground. It didn't shatter but bounced along awkwardly between them and rolled under a leather chair.

  “I didn't know her name, not until later. It was a meaningless fling. I didn't say anything because—”

  It was Gen’s turn to raise her hand. “I know why.”

  “You do?” His eyes were blank. Dark and more terrifying than if they had revealed rage.

  “Sure, any indiscretions would have raised suspicion higher than it was already.”

  “I couldn't chance it.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “Would you have defended me?”

  She met his dead eyes. “No.”

  “I knew it.”

  “Why’d you do it in the first place?”

  She wanted to see if he knew about Pamela’s indiscretions. If so, it would provide more motive than him cheating unless Pamela had found out about the affair and threatened to leave Perry.

  “It’s what men do.” He shrugged as though he’d forgotten to put the correct amount of postage on an envelope. “We’re genetically predisposed to spread the seed.”

  “Give me a fucking break.” Gen turned away and grabbed the doorknob.

  Perry’s hand shot out and landed flat and wide on the door just above her head. “Now Gen—”

  Gen turned on him and jabbed a finger at his face. “Don’t you dare patronize me like I’m one of your two-bit whores. Remove your hand.”

  His arm remained outstretched above her, but his features softened. “You can’t say anything. It’ll ruin me.”

  “You’re already ruined, Perry.” Her head shook. “You just don’t realize it.”

  “Are you threatening me?” His voice boomed.

  “I’m stating facts. Everything you had is tainted with the blood of your wife and children.”

  “Which is why I’m trying to start over.”

  “Whatever you need to do, Perry. It’s your life. Your wife and children’s lives are over.”

  “I know that. I think about it every day.”

  But did he think about it with sorrow or pride?

  Gen held the question as tightly as she clutched the heap of papers in her arms. She turned, grabbed the knob, and twisted. His hand moved slowly, limiting the speed of her retreat to maintain as much control over the situation as he could. It took all the strength she possessed, but she walked out of the office and held her head high, all without revealing the quiver in her steps.

  His gaze followed her all the way to her office. She couldn’t see it, but she felt it.

  Twenty-One

  “Is the building on fire?”

  A tall, young cop in his patrol uniform made a show of jumping out of her way. He gave her a smile to accompany the comment as she ran past him down the hallway of the NYPD Headquarters. The mop of dark hair that barely fit under his cap matched his playful gaze.

  “If it is, I’m running the wrong way.”

  That cop was just her type. Cute. Playful. Easy. Well, maybe he had been her type. Given the current speed with which she ran toward a man 180 degrees from that description, her type had changed. Though, she wasn’t running to him for any of the right reasons. Sex. Commitment. Love.

  Were things supposed to go in that order?

  Gen continued through the corridor and slowed at the counter. The usual clerk worked the desk and buzzed her through to the sea of desks, cops, and perps without acknowledgment. He had his hands full with an irate woman wanting her neighbor arrested because of his wind chimes. Please, if wind chimes were the worst she dealt with, she needed to grab some perspective and some earplugs.

  The moment she was through the door, her gaze locked on Owen. He stood at his desk near the back of the room. One hand clutched a pen while the other held a cell phone to his ear. His mouth moved, and he stabbed the pen at something on his desk.

  “Hoowee. Please say she’s my lawyer.” A man cuffed to the desk nearest them clutched a hand to his chest and pointed at her with the other.

  She rushed past him without a word. Owen’s gaze locked on hers. His shoulders perked, and his eyes narrowed in a deep study to which she might never become accustomed. His lips moved faster, but she couldn’t make out a word over the din.

  “The Red Devil returns.” This came from a familiar and not exactly friendly detective she’d only had the poor fortune to work with twice.

  Gen offered him a curt wave and hooked a left toward Owen.

  Detective Eric Hallard rolled back his chair, blocking her path. Of any of the detectives, she’d worked with him the most. At one time, she’d considered him a friend, but when she decided to take Perry’s case, Hallard had taken it harder than most. So hard that she’d told him exactly where he could shove his badge.

  “If it isn’t the Red Devil herself.” Hallard reclined in the seat and stretched his legs wide.

  Of all the people to say, “I told you so,” his would be the loudest and most obnoxious.

  He was just the person she did not want to see, especially when she was still trying to catch her breath from the bombshell that’d detonated in her face this morning and the run over here.

  “I didn’t think you’d have the balls to show your face in here again.”

  “Shows what you know because I knew you’d be a pussy about it when I did.” She smiled sweetly.

  He harrumphed.

  Behind them, someone laughed.

  Hallard dragged a hand over his face and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, Holst, are you here with us or against us?”

  Owen stepped around the desk between them and grabbed her hand. “She’s with me.” He turned away from his co-worker and towed her in his tracks.

  It was as close to a caveman-white knight situation as she’d ever come. It was a thousand yards closer than she’d ever wanted to be to that kind of situation. He’d defended her and made a claim on her all in one simple sentence and with one swift act. The warmth that belied the cool breeze that’d returned to the city worked its way up her body, pooling in her chest and cheeks. A flutter captured her heart and toyed with her mind. It felt better than sex.

  He pulled her past his desk and into a dark room she knew without sight. It had gray walls, no windows, two cameras in either corner, one metal table, and two chairs.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked as he pushed the door closed, shutting out any hint of light. His fingertips grazed her cheek. His other hand glided down the center of her back, where he’d helped her place the refrozen pack of veggies later in the night.

  “Fine.” Physically, she was fine. Mentally and emotionally, she was a wreck.

  His hot hands cupped her cheek. He tilted her head so very slightly and pulled her mouth to his. She went willingly, near desperately, grabbing his collar and holding him tight. His lips were tender but fierce. Little noises of pleasure rumbled from his chest. Her fingers roamed higher, sliding against the heat of his neck and then over the prickly crop of his hair.

  The kiss was unhurried and sweet. It stopped the world. Hers, at least, for the best mome
nt of the day and maybe her life. In that small room, in that small chunk of space, everything was good and right.

  It went on and on until someone shouted in the bullpen. She jumped and broke the kiss. Owen released her slowly.

  “Watch your eyes.” He flipped on the light and seeing him was almost as good as the kiss. His smile was for her and her alone. “I gave you a hell of a time yesterday. I thought for sure I’d never see you again.”

  Gen shrugged and surprised herself by lurching forward, burying her head against his chest, and wrapping her arms around his middle. His arms draped her like a security blanket. She’d never had one of those, not even as a kid. It felt too good.

  He held tight.

  When she was ready, she straightened. “Sorry. I—”

  “No more sorry. Especially not for making my freaking day.”

  “You don’t know why I’m here.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re here. Whatever it is, you came to me with it. That’s big.”

  “It’s huge.” She grimaced.

  He held her hands in his. “What’s going on?”

  She stared at his large, callused hands and wished she could let it go—Perry, the murders, her past, all of it. If she could, just maybe this surprising, amazing thing between them would have a chance.

  But she couldn’t let it go. She’d buried the dread she’d felt when she’d caught her uncle hurting her sister. Never again could she let it go.

  “This morning, I eavesdropped on a conversation between Perry and a woman named Millie.” Gen paused, waiting for his huffed breath or scolding, but neither came. His demeanor remained open and intent. “She’s his lover, has been since before the murders.”

  “What was their conversation and where? I can’t believe that they would have a talk out in the open that could implicate him or her.”

  “Her?”

  “Yeah, you women are capable of all sorts of misdeeds.”

  She wiggled from his grip and placed her hands on her hips.

  “Are you not?” he asked. “You know better than most.”

  It was her turn to huff.

  “Where, how, and what did you hear, exactly?” He propped a hip on the interrogation table and clasped his hands on his lap.

  Her hands fell to her sides. “I’m usually the first one in, but today, I was moving slower than normal, and I got in late. Lisa, the receptionist, was on high alert because Perry was in a mood. He’d apparently yelled at Craig, another attorney in our office, and Craig left. I walk into the madness of Janney, my assistant, shoving me down the hall with files—fake reasons for me to be in his office and an edict to find out what was going on with him.” Her lungs filled with air, and she continued. “I stopped short outside his door when I heard him talking. He was apologizing for not calling back sooner. He said that he’s been busy preparing things on his end.

  “A woman’s voice responded that she’s getting anxious. She used his name in a familiar sense. Then she said it’s been too long. By this point, I’m getting mad, but I can’t make myself leave. He cajoles her, promising it’ll be soon. Whatever it is.”

  Gen paced. “She’s insistent. Again, he assures her that they’ll be face to face before she knows it, and then she says, ‘I hope you’re right, for both our sakes.’”

  “A threat,” Owen noted.

  She stopped and faced him. “Yeah, and Perry noticed. His voice hardened. He told her not to be foolish. He said that he needed her to be patient. That they were already rushing things. That they have to be careful.”

  “Then?” he urged.

  “Then I dropped the damned files against the door.” She threw her arms into the air.

  Owen stood. Every muscle in his etched frame tensed.

  “He didn’t hurt me.”

  “What happened?” His voice was low and unbreakable.

  “I tried to play it off like I didn’t hear anything.”

  His lips pursed. “But he knows you and knows you’re a shit liar.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “I thought he’d take the out, but he didn’t try to hide it. He admitted to the relationship. I mean, he tried to say it didn’t mean anything, but that doesn’t match their conversation. He’s making plans. I think he moved all of Pamela’s and the children’s things out to move the girlfriend in.”

  He sighed heavily and sat back on the edge of the table. “Wouldn’t be the first to do it.”

  “I need a favor.”

  Owen craned his neck left and then right. His gaze landed on her. “I mean, I don’t think we’ll get caught.” He winked. “If we do, it’s worth losing my job.”

  The laughter caught her off guard. Dread and misery had taunted her run over here, and he’d cast them to the side like meaningless pawns. She hadn’t known it was possible to feel so many conflicting emotions in such a short amount of time. That’s what Owen was—a conflict. He was nothing she’d ever needed, but now that she’d experienced him, he was all she wanted.

  Gen nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and breathed deeply.

  Her phone chirped, shattering the intimacy.

  She jumped back and pulled it from the pocket of her slacks. A text from Janney lit the screen.

  Janney: Perry wanted to know where you were. I told him you’d gone to retrieve files from the shelter. Until he asked, I thought you were here! Where the hell are you?

  “You need to stay away from him, Gen.”

  She scoffed.

  “Seriously. You know something that no one else does. If he really mutilated and murdered the mother of his children and his own flesh and blood, you’d be just another notch.”

  “If he really killed them?”

  “You said it yourself, you don’t have proof. I didn’t either. If I had, he’d be in jail right now. There was too much circumstance. Still is.” He grabbed her right hand and caressed her knuckles. “I know he’s your boss, and you have to be around him but not alone.”

  “Can you have someone follow him?”

  “To what end? He knows there’s nothing anyone can do. That’s the only reason he copped to the relationship with you; that and he knew he was caught. Otherwise, he’d have told you about the relationship before the trial. And based on the conversation, it is a relationship that’s lasted longer than the murder trial, which makes me want to look at the woman. Because it’s always the husband until it’s the new girlfriend.”

  That thought hadn’t occurred to her.

  Her phone rang, making the startling chirp a moment ago seem like a sweet whisper. She silenced the phone immediately and looked at the incoming call. “Larkin?”

  “You can get it if you need to.”

  “No, it’s fine. I just …” Gen cleared her throat and focused. “The girlfriend gives him motive. It was the only thing the DA’s case was missing. A motive.”

  “Not the only thing. But I still can’t have him followed. He’s been cleared of the murders, and no one will okay the waste of those man-hours. We’re short-handed as it is.”

  “What about his phone records?” Gen threw her hands wide, breaking contact with him. “If we could just—”

  “Let it go, Gen.”

  “We need to get current phone records, track the girlfriend, and then look at old records for comparison. We can track exactly how long ago this started and …” The look on his face ripped her heart wide, and disappointment drew his lips into a tight frown.

  Her phone chirped.

  Larkin: I just wanted to check on you. It’s been a while. Love you!

  She shoved the phone back in her pocket and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I know you feel guilty, but it wasn’t your fault. No matter what you find, Perry can't be tried again for their murders. If you keep running down this path, you’re going to destroy your career, the one thing you’ve worked your ass off for. You’ve already nearly been arrested and beaten. You’re pushing your friends away. It’s not worth it.”

  “
Guilty?” Gen glared at the man she liked more than any other person on the face of this earth. “You have no idea what guilt has done to me. I won’t let it destroy me anymore.”

  “Then let this go.”

  “Letting it go didn’t help my sister. I have some phone records from the day of the murders. I’ll do it without you.” Gen turned and shoved out of the interrogation room, leaving part of her heart on the table.

  Twenty-Two

  Her phone vibrated for the fifth time since she’d left the police station. If she was smart, she’d stuff that thing between her legs and put the irritation to good use.

  Janney, Owen, and now Douglas took turns sending her phone into fits. She tossed the thing onto a decorative sofa pillow to minimize the noise and yanked another file from the box on her living room floor. They’d been neatly organized until she’d lost her mind the other day and strewn them all over her home. Now she was back at it. Madness.

  Owen’s warning played in her head again and again. Her heart ached to forget all this and be with the man she … actually cared for. There were no better words to describe the indescribable feelings tossing her emotions like a freshly cut salad. They were like none she’d experienced before. That was as good of a reason as any to run headlong into the sticky depths of foolishness. It was safer than being vulnerable to a man.

  If she could just find the phone records, then she could, what? She wasn’t an investigator. She didn’t have a database to cross-reference the phone numbers. She could use the freaking internet and the process of elimination, though.

  Gen shoveled through three more files, ignored another phone call, and still no luck. They were here somewhere. Had to be.

  A soft rapping sounded on the door. She froze. Her gaze went to the mess, scattered across her floor and couch. Her shoes lay like fallen soldiers in the mire. Her place looked much as it had been the other night.

  “Gen?” Owen’s hardline baritone had vanished, revealing quiet concern.

  It tugged at her chest and pulled her to her bare feet. She dropped a handful of papers onto the sofa and hurried to the door. As much as she could ignore his calls, she couldn’t escape the draw of his presence.