Confess (The Blue Line Series Book 1) (18 page)

“I didn’t think anything was wrong until I’d followed Wray too deep into a wooded area, and before I could scream, his hand was over my face.”

Mitch reached a hand to her hair and rubbed circles along her scalp. “He was known to use that story to attract young girls.”

Lacy sank deeper into his shoulder. “He put a cloth over my mouth and nose, and the next thing I remember was waking up in a dark room that smelled like rotted wood and mold. There was an old bed frame, the kind with exposed springs. The mattress was on the floor with a dog bowl of water.

“He asked my name and told me not to be scared, but I was. I lied and told him my name was Emma, a girl I hated from school and wished he’d taken instead.” Emotion choked her again at the memory. “How stupid to think a name would save me.”

“What else do you remember?” Mitch urged.

“He told me he was going to kill me, but not to be scared. He asked me if I knew anyone who had died. He told me it wouldn’t hurt and after, I could see my grandparents again.”

She hadn’t realized she’d started crying again until Mitch reached up to wipe the hot tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

“You’re doing great, Lacy.” His voice was so kind and caring. Not at all the detective tone she’d experience minutes before while thrown over his shoulder. “Try to remember the room again. How did he keep you there?”

“My arms were tied to the bed frame, but they didn’t need to be. The room was so dark I was too scared to move away from the corner. He left me there all night, but I never slept. I just stared at a red blinking light on the wall. An old smoke detector I guess. I didn’t know what it was until the morning when the sunlight came through the cracks around the door. He’d told me he’d come for me at dawn, so I started crying.”

“What happened when he came for you?” His gaze narrowed on hers.

“I cried at first. I thought there wasn’t a point in fighting, so I gave up. Then I thought of Dad, and John, and my mother and what they’d go through when I died. I couldn’t just leave them. I had to fight.” Thick emotion rising up her throat choked her. “I twisted my arms and kicked at the bed, trying to free my hands. I thought if I could get loose, I could run away when he opened the door. The metal was old and bent easily, but it wouldn’t break. I just kept kicking and scraping the bed across the floor. It made a horrible sound.

“When I heard the lock on the door release, I stopped. I knew he’d come for me. I knew he was going to kill me, and I couldn’t break free. The door opened and I couldn’t see him because of the bright sunlight behind him. I could only make out his outline. He came for me and braced my shoulders against the wall.” Lacy squeezed her eyes tight, this time trying to see the image. Pushing it to the forefront of her mind. Remembering every detail.

“I kicked and bit and pulled his hair.” She clenched her fists at her side. The vile tang of fresh blood assaulted her mouth.

“It wasn’t him.” Lacy let go of a stiff breath.

“Not Wray? Who was it?” Mitch questioned. His voice panicked.

“I didn’t believe it until Lieutenant Helms pressed his badge in my hand and called me Lacy.”

Mitch’s chest tightened under her cheek. His breath came out in a rush over the crown of her head, and he pushed her away until their gazes locked in a cold, hard stare that sucked away the relief of her confession. His jaw set in a hard line before he spoke. “They found you? How?”

Lacy leaned backward at his harshness. When she looked up into his face, she’d expected to see relief. At the very least, his stanch detective face. But what radiated off of him felt more like contempt.

She pressed her hand over her chest where her heart threatened to beat through her breastbone. “John. He called the police from a payphone in the park. Dad said John’s quick thinking put them onto Wray’s trail in record time.” She swallowed hard before finishing. “My kidnapping was the first time they had a description of the man to go by. John was the only witness who’d been able to give the police enough to go on.”

Mitch turned and rose to stalk the room. Both hands shot to his hair and agitatedly threaded through the dark stands. “A description that could have saved Sadie.”

Lacy stopped crying and stared at him hard. “Your cousin? What does she have to do with this?”

He didn’t stop pacing to answer. “He killed her.”

God, holding back her story had cost her dearly in her young life, but she’d never hated herself for what they’d done as a family until now. “Mitch,” she called, but he didn’t respond.

“Your father knew what the bastard looked like, and he kept it hidden. Kept crucial evidence out of the hands of the men who could have saved her.”

“Mitch, I….” She tried to get up from the couch, but his presence pushed her back.

He focused on her. The pain in his eyes drew a harsh breath from her lungs.

“If I had known…” She trailed off.

“If you’d have known he’d kill again you would have what? Confessed everything? Put yourself in more danger? Killed him when you had the chance?”

“I was eight,” she choked out.

His face softened into an apology. He crossed the room in two strides, and he wrapped her quaking body in his massive arms again. “I know you were, Angel. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I brought the whole thing up.”

Lacy let her cheek press into his chest. She began to relax when the rise and fall of his breathing fell into a fast but even rhythm. “You really had no idea?”

Mitch’s chin pressed on the top of her head. “Lacy, you have to believe me. I didn’t know you had anything to do with Wray when I met you.” He cupped her cheeks with his hands, and moved her head up to his, waiting for her to open her eyes before he spoke again. “I knew something was missing from Wray’s timeline, and I knew you were keeping something hidden, but I didn’t put the two together. How could I have?”

Lacy let him push against her. Her head dropped to his shoulder. She sat there, breathing in his leather and soap scent, letting the masculine smell envelope her and create a safe cocoon around her frayed nerves.

“And now?” she asked, her heart in her throat at how he might answer her next question. “What happens now?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think Wray killed those girls.”

She angled her face up to his. “You could use me to testify.”

He hooked a finger under her chin. Restraint flickered in his eyes. “That won’t be enough.”

“You don’t think anyone would believe me?”

“Not exactly, but only someone who’s known Wray could tell the difference.”

“And that’s why you need me?”

He smiled. “If you could look over the files, fill in the blanks left by your father, it might help separate Wray’s killings from the young women’s. It would at least be a start to proving Rebel should be hunting a new killer.”

“I can’t expose my father. He did what he did to protect me.”

“I’m not asking you to. Just look over the files. Tell me what’s missing. Your name and your father’s name stay clear of the case. I only want to catch a killer. Not a father protecting his daughter.”

She nodded and forced a wavering smile, which seemed to read as genuine to him. He tucked her back into his shoulder and held her. His comfort soothed away the last of her shaken nerves.

Desperate to make the last five minutes vanish, Lacy dropped her hand to the inseam of his pants and cupped his erection.

His shoulder stiffened. “We don’t have to.” His breath feathered against her ear.

The take no prisoners side of Mitch was a complete turn on, a mountain of a man with a steel resolve she couldn’t break if she tried, but his compassionate side reminded her he was human. He had feelings and emotions, and that scared the hell out of her.

She angled his face up to meet hers. “I’m all right now. Promise.” She needed him to fill her. To stomp out the hole boring deep inside her belly. She needed comfort and for things to go back the way they were before she let her secret bomb drop. ”What happened to that dirty talking detective who promised no boxers tonight?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “He’s right here if you want him, and he’ll still be here in the morning. Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

He sat down next to her and pulled her back into him until she was lying on the couch.

Lacy threaded her fingers along the hem of her tank and lifted it, exposing herself. “I want him,” she answered. “I need him.”

Mitch tucked one arm under her knees and wrapped the other around her back and lifted her off the couch in one smooth motion. “Then he’ll still be here when you wake up.” He kissed her behind the ear and carried her into the bedroom.

It didn’t take long for the emotions to drain her energy enough to fall asleep beside him on the bed. A deeper sleep than she’d had in years.

Dreamless.

After an hour of rubbing Lacy’s back and holding her close, Mitch couldn’t begin to settle his brain enough to rest. He’d run through the details of her story, dissecting each one. Trying to reason a way out of Lacy being involved with Wray and his harsh reaction to the news.

She’d been kidnapped. Tied up. Held against her will in the dark, believing she’d die there like the girls she’d seen on T.V. He wrapped his arms tighter around Lacy’s still body and buried his head in her hair to inhale her sweet scent.

An eight year old child alone, scared, and she’d been forced to stuff all those fears and emotions down inside her and hide, like she hadn’t been a victim but a willing participate in her own kidnapping.

With her head on his chest and one arm asleep under her body, he didn’t dare move, though the need to work on the case drove his mind in all kinds of crazy directions.

Why would someone copy the murders from thirteen years ago? Why change the MO from young girls to women? What was their motivation? Where did their information come from? His last thought made his breath catch. Why two girls in one location, and would he eventually target Lacy?

The memory of the night he’d met her flashed to mind. She’d given him a fake name, so sure of herself he would have believed her lies if Helms hadn’t already tipped him off.

He ran his fingers through the hair splayed across her face.
Smart girl
. Wray thought she was someone else. Because of the lack of media coverage, Lacy had gotten away without Wray ever knowing her identity. He could almost forgive the chief for keeping Lacy’s kidnapping a secret if it meant keeping Lacy safe.

But that comforting thought stirred another not so comforting realization. What if Lacy’s testimony as Wray’s only surviving victim had come in time to save Sadie?

He clenched his jaw to keep from cursing aloud. When she stirred against him, he forced his body to relax, though his mind refused to follow suit.

“Mitch.” Her voice washed over him, releasing the tension he held in his muscles.

“Right here, Angel.” For once, he wished he was one of those men who knew the right words to say, the right way to hold a woman and make her feel safe. He’d give anything to ease the concern crinkled around her mouth.

Her lithe body arched and fell back on his, stretching awake. He rubbed his hand along her back, her heated skin bringing awareness to his body.

Not sure what to say to comfort her, he said nothing, just stroked her body.

Lacy stretched and rolled over. Her body wiggled against his. Her ass rocked over his already stiff cock. Feeling him hard and horny against her was the last thing she needed. In an effort to conceal his need, he pushed his hips away from her, creating a space between their bodies. The emptiness did little to cool his growing need.

“Are you still mad at me?” Her words shredded his heart.

He rose to an elbow, turned her to face him, and held her cheek in his hand. His eyes shifted from one of hers, red and swollen, to the other. He’d done this. She’d trusted him with her secret, and he’d made her feel wrong.

“No. God no, Lacy.” He slid his hip over her body, pushing her flat to the bed and straddling her. He kissed below one eye, tasting the salt of her tears, then the other, reassuring her. Reassuring himself. “You’ve done nothing to be mad about.” He laid a kiss across her forehead, easing the worry lines he’d put there. “If I made you feel that way, then you’re the one who should be mad.”

Her body shook with a sob. Mitch shut his eyes, tight. He’d made her feel guilty about being kidnapped. Made her feel wrong for protecting her family. What kind of damn fool did that?

“Come back to me, Mitch.” Her hand on his cheek pulled him from the thought.

He twisted off her and landed on his back with a groan. Even now, when he should be the one assuring her, she was comforting him. He didn’t deserve her. He only knew how to hurt women.

To his surprise, Lacy took control. She straddled her leg over his waist. The fullness of her bottom sank into his erection. His cock flinched under his boxers, and she smiled. No doubt pleased with herself and what her body did to his. She undulated her hips into his hardness. Her wet heat permeated the thin fabrics between her legs.

He could have her bare naked and stuffed full in mere seconds; his answer to all of life’s problems, sex.

But with Lacy, sex took on a deeper meaning. It was an act of trust. Trust he hadn’t earned.

Lacy took one of his hands from the bed and wrapped it around her waist, then the other. When he didn’t grab hold, she stilled.

“You
are
mad.” Her mouth drew into a tight pouting line.

Mitch sat up, pushing her down to his lap, facing her. “Yes.” His stout breath blew her bangs across her face. “Yes, I am mad, but not at you.” He brushed the hair off her forehead. “I want to be the kind of man you deserve. The kind that can kill your demons and protect you. Tell you everything is going to be all right. Take care of you the way a woman like you should be taken care of.”

His thoughts where coming out in fractures of tangled lines. Why couldn’t he just say what he really wanted to? What Lacy really needed to hear? “I can’t love you the way you want to be loved.”