Between Midnight and Dawn

BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND DAWN

CHERYL YEKO

SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

New York

BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND DAWN

Copyright©2016

CHERYL YEKO

Cover Design by Melody A. Pond

This book is a work of fiction.  The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher.  The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

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Published in the United States of America by

Soul Mate Publishing

P.O. Box 24

Macedon, New York, 14502

ISBN: 978-1-68291-090-0

www.SoulMatePublishing.com

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Also by Cheryl Yeko

Abducting Casey

The Notary

Between Midnight and Dawn

The Milwaukee Series:

Protecting Rose

A Man to Trust

Shielding Her Heart

To Diana & Jeff,

for adopting Charlie,

the cutest dog I’ve ever met.

Kudos for loving him enough to adopt Lucy.

Their devotion to each other is heartwarming.

You’re the best dog parents ever.

Acknowledgements

I’d like to thank my BETA readers for their wonderful suggestions. June Steder, Michelle Hendershot, Laurie Mitchell, and Shawn Oesch High. Thanks so much! Your feedback was invaluable.

Chapter 1

Kyle Wade’s eyes narrowed when the woman stepped out of her busy pottery shop in Port Huron. He cursed under his breath at his body’s reaction to the sight of her shapely legs on display below her flirty short skirt.

Not the time for this shit.

Even as the words rang in his head, his eyes lowered to her softly rounded ass as she headed down the block, appreciating the gentle sway of her hips until she disappeared into the gym she’d worked out in each evening for the past couple days.

He’d learned yesterday her name was Nicole Chambers and she owned the pottery shop centered in the business district of this popular tourist town. Young and single, she lived alone, and had recently been attacked by an ex-boyfriend, who was sitting in jail for the assault.

Anger flared hot and bright inside again, thinking about some asshole hitting her. “Doesn’t concern you, Wade,” he muttered to himself. “She’s just a means to an end.”

His gaze slid back to Allan Barber. Sitting in a compact car across the street from her shop, he also watched the woman. The vehicle had to be a rental, because Barber’s taste ran to gas-guzzling SUVs and pickups.

A large man in his mid-forties, Barber gave off the appearance of being anyone’s next-door neighbor, nicely dressed with short-cropped blond hair and a friendly demeanor. He’d been fooling folks for years.

But Kyle knew better. The man was a cold-blooded murderer, a serial killer who’d been outsmarting the cops for over two decades. In his gut, Kyle knew he was staring at the sick bastard who had murdered his mother twenty-two years ago, possibly his first victim.

I just need to prove it.

He’d received a tip last spring from a woman implicating Barber in the crime, but before he’d gotten the chance to take her formal statement, she was killed in a questionable one-car accident. He ground his back teeth together, sending a jolt of pain through his temples. Drawing in air through his nose, he slowly exhaled, trying to relax, his hands tightening around the steering wheel the same way they wanted to tighten around the man’s neck.

If he’d had any doubts about Barber’s next intended victim, they’d been banished. A feeling of protectiveness toward the beautiful woman thrummed in his blood . . . a feeling he didn’t want and quickly squashed.

He needed to keep his focus on the investigation, and not let his emotions get the best of him. Something he’d struggled with since the day his mother had been taken from him. Before, he’d been a fairly laid-back kid, but everything had changed upon her death. Once his grief had become bearable, seething anger had moved in and made a home.

His cell phone interrupted his dark thoughts and he plucked it out of the cup holder in his console and checked the incoming number.

Kyle groaned. He didn’t need this crap, and for a moment considered ignoring the call and letting voicemail pick up. Then reconsidered. Best friends since grade school, Rob had been the only one who hadn’t rejected him outright when Kyle suggested Barber fit the profile of the Clove Hitch Killer.

Barber, a retired cop from Detroit, was a decorated hero for taking a bullet during a liquor store robbery when he was only thirty-eight. On disability, he collected a generous check each month, and was entitled to a full pension upon retirement. Kyle had received orders to back off the case.

He’d ignored those orders and continued the investigation. Then, a few months back, Barber made a complaint to his captain and Kyle had been advised to take a long vacation, and not to come back until he was ready to let it go.

Not. Goddamn. Likely.

He hadn’t actually been relieved of duty, but close enough. Kyle figured his buddy was calling to check up on him, and make sure he was staying out of trouble. He frowned and put the call on speaker. “Hey, Rob.”

“Where are you, man?” Tension threaded Rob’s voice.

“Port Huron. Why?”

“We just discovered the body of a woman who’d disappeared from a shopping mall a week ago.”

“And?” Kyle drummed his right thumb on the steering wheel, his tension mounting.

“She was found, along 94, near Detroit, bound and gagged, her throat slit in the same manner as C.H.K’s victims.”

“Copycat?”

“Could be.”

His mind jumped back in time, to when he was just a kid, and he’d learned monsters were real. His loving, caring mother, who’d always had a smile and a kiss for him, kidnapped from a shopping center. She’d been missing for over twenty-four hours before her nude body was found dumped in a ditch in a sparse rural area near Detroit. Hands bound behind her back, she’d been raped repeatedly, her throat slashed.

Within five years, his father drank himself to death, leaving Kyle alone at the age of fourteen. Rob’s family was generous enough to take in a hard-to-handle, grief-stricken teenager. Tight as brothers, they had gone through the police academy together, accepting positions at the same police department near Detroit, and eventually becoming partners.

Rob and his parents were his family now, and he loved them. But even today, so many years later, the ache of his loss tightened his chest.

“But?” He knew there had to be more. It could very well be a copycat, because the details of his mother’s murder had been splashed across the headlines for years. Although it wasn’t until he was older and read the details of the case from old newspapers and police reports had he truly understood the extent of his mother’s suffering.

He’d gone into law enforcement to stop the same thing from happening to other families, vowing upon his mother’s grave to find her killer and bring him to justice. He’d been able to—if not get over it—at least learn to live with his grief. But he’d never given up on solving the crime. Knowing the man who’d murdered his mother and destroyed his father was still out there, filled him with a deep-seated rage.

A strained sigh flowed over the line. “Her hands were tied behind her back using the same brand of red rope, with clove hitch knots.”

Kyle’s mouth flattened. What were the chances of that? The information about the rope’s color hadn’t been released to the public. Since the Clove Hitch Killer hadn’t committed a crime in over four years, as far as they knew, there’d been speculation he’d either died or gone to prison for a different crime.

Kyle knew better.

“Was Barber questioned?” he asked through gritted teeth, already knowing the answer. Unless the guy walked in with a dead woman in his arms and confessed, the police wouldn’t do shit. The goddamn guy was Teflon and the cocky bastard knew it.

“Not yet,” Rob said. “But I’m trying to convince the captain to bring him in for questioning.”

Kyle’s brows rose and he straightened. “So you believe me now?”

“It’s not that I didn’t believe you, Kyle. I just didn’t want you to throw your career away over some woman’s memory on something her husband told her over twenty years ago that may or may not have been relevant.”

Her husband’s car had been identified as being in the vicinity of a crime, by a neighbor of the victim. He’d been questioned by police, but provided a solid alibi. Then last year, shortly after the man’s death, his wife contacted Kyle and indicated her husband had loaned his car to his nephew that day, Allan Barber.

Before Kyle could get her official statement, she’d been killed when her car went off an embankment. He suspected Barber silenced her, but nothing was ever proven.

“And now?” Kyle asked, hope rising in his chest.

“I’m not convinced it’s Barber, but I’m willing to consider the possibility. And I’ll do what I can to help resolve your concerns.”

The hard knot in the middle of his shoulders eased. “Thanks, Rob. That means a lot.”

“You’re welcome, partner.”

“Ex-partner,” Kyle said tightly.

“No. Partner. You’re still officially on the force. But we have to keep my involvement on the down-low, or the captain will hand me my ass.”

Kyle snorted. “Yeah, I hear ya. I’ll be in touch.”

“Try and stay out of trouble.” A soft chuckle followed the statement before the call ended.

Kyle grinned and placed the cell phone back into the console, not-so-patiently waiting as the sun lowered over the night sky. Even now, the town was bustling, traffic still heavy with locals and tourist. A cooling summer breeze drifted through his open car window.

Another hour passed and Nicole exited the gym, wearing the same sexy outfit and looking freshly showered, her face scrubbed clean and her hair slightly damp. The phrase pretty as a picture crossed his mind.

She was petite, her clothing utterly feminine, and he’d yet to see her wear anything other than a dress or skirt. Around five-two, she was slim, but curvy, her breasts appearing plump and round under the silky blouses she wore. Her vibrant auburn hair, cut short and styled in soft waves, framed her heart-shaped face. She was stunningly beautiful, with a peaches and cream complexion and delicate features.

Just like the nights before, she crossed the street and walked back toward her shop, getting into a dark-green Ford Focus parked in front, and headed out of town. And just like each night before, Barber followed her.

Anger simmering inside him, Kyle started his car and edged into traffic, intent on tailing Barber and making sure he brought the woman no harm. As much as he wanted revenge, he didn’t want her hurt. He needed to find evidence on the guy soon, without getting himself thrown into jail.

And he couldn’t watch over her if he was locked up. The thought of Barber getting his hands on this woman, and knowing the vile things the man would do to her, made it difficult to contain his temper.

Eyes narrowed, he hung back a good distance so as not to be spotted as they neared the edge of town. From having followed them both the last couple nights, Kyle knew she lived in a remote area, twenty miles or so out of town, which put her at an even greater risk. Too isolated.

The last streetlight before leaving town turned yellow just as Barber sailed through it. Intent on not losing him, Kyle kicked up his speed and entered the intersection right behind him. But before he made it completely through, a car coming from the other direction ran the light and slammed into his tail end, sending him spinning.

Nicole eased her car into the garage and punched the remote, closing the garage door behind her. She gave a sigh of relief and made her way inside her medium-sized, comfortable ranch home, making sure to deadbolt the door.

It’d been two months, five days, and—she glanced at the clock over the stove—seven hours, since Larry’s arrest. He was in jail, and at least for now couldn’t hurt her. Though she still found herself jumping at her own shadow.

They’d only dated a few times, and thank God she’d never slept with him. But the guy had become obsessed with her, constantly calling, showing up at her shop and pleading for her to take him back. When he’d followed her home one night, she’d been forced to take out a restraining order against him.

That hadn’t helped her the night he broke into her house, demanding she give him another chance. She’d asked him to leave, but that only enraged him further. The only reason she was still alive was because the tenant renting her one-bedroom cottage in the backyard called the police.

The last thing she remembered was trying to run into her bedroom to lock herself inside. But didn’t make it. By the time the police arrived, she had barely been conscious. Larry, hearing the sirens approaching, attempted to flee, but had been captured before making it out of her driveway.

Due to a concussion, she couldn’t remember much. Stressed from the attack, she’d fallen ill, coming down with a virus that led to dizziness and some hearing loss. Fortunately, with prescribed steroids, Dr. Thomas believed her hearing would return to normal. Recently, the dizziness had cleared up, her hearing improved somewhat. Now, instead of being almost totally deaf, if people were close enough, and talked loud enough, she was able to make out most of what they were saying.

Nicole flipped on her lights and scanned the interior of her home, searching for intruders. Her heart beat rapidly. She bit her bottom lip, hard, and fought back tears, wondering if she’d ever regain her confidence. Rushing across the living room, she turned on her stereo, cranking it up. With no close neighbors, it didn’t matter how loud she played it.

She glanced out her window, at the cottage in her backyard. The young woman who’d rented it had married and moved out two weeks ago, leaving Nicole with a vacancy. With her current hearing issues, the thought of renting to a stranger frightened her a little, but she had bills to pay and no other choice.

With the music blasting, she went back to the kitchen and poured a glass of white wine and prepared a grilled ham and cheese sandwich for supper. Plopping in front of the TV, she turned on the closed caption and mindlessly scrolled through the hundreds of channels, hoping to find something worth watching. She finally settled on a cooking show.

It’d been a busy day, and she’d ended up staying at the shop a little later than normal, working on a particularly beautiful vase she wanted to complete for the following week. Although she purchased most of the pottery she sold, a few pieces each month were her own creations. Since the attack, she spent most of her time designing new pieces for the shop, and loved the creative activity. Thank goodness she had an awesome assistant, and also her best friend, Sheryl. Sheryl had previously worked part-time, but now worked full-time, until Nicole’s hearing improved enough so customers didn’t have to almost shout at her to be heard.

The show didn’t hold her attention for long, and she shut it off. With a sigh, Nicole went into the kitchen and placed her dirty plate into the sink. She was feeling anxious, a condition that had plagued her since the attack. If her hearing wasn’t so messed up, she’d have called Sheryl to help her de-stress, but decided to read a while before bed, hoping to relax enough to fall asleep.

Retrieving a handful of chocolate-covered cherries from the refrigerator to munch, she headed into her bedroom and changed into her blue nightgown, then crawled into bed.