Cut to the Chase (5 page)

Mia slowed her breathing, a method she employed to calm herself when she needed to appear in control. She was careful not to smile, frown or give off any emotion that would indicate that she was passing judgment.

“Are you profiling me now, Mia?” he asked with a smirk, though it was not at all playful.

“No, Paul. I'm afraid that I don't have time for that.” She needed to keep the session moving along.

“Very well.” He folded his hands again. “Once at the hospital, a rape kit was conducted and the police were called. We reported the crime and though the police immediately went to the cemetery to investigate, they only came back with blood samples, not a body, like I had hoped. Knowing that he was still out there, I packed up Erin's apartment and mine, and left for New York in the middle of the night. We stayed in a hotel for three weeks until the apartment we had planned to lease was ready. I started my job at Pierce and Stone, and Erin started hers at Montclair Pharmaceuticals a few months later.” Mia didn't need to ask why Erin had changed her career plans. She knew personally that one's path could shift without notice.

“At what point did he make contact?” Mia asked. She continued to jot down notes, piecing together the thoughts in her head and memorializing them on paper.

“One year from the date of the rape. Erin went to a club with a few friends from work. Chase arrived at the club less than an hour after she arrived. He said she appeared wasted, which was not typical for my sister. Chase took her home, phoned a friend of his, who was fortunately a doctor and who took care of her. She had been drugged. A urine test showed that she had been exposed to HGB. The next morning a bouquet of flowers was sent by the bastard to Chase's penthouse.”

“How did she know it was from him?” Mia asked.

“The asshole had the balls to wish her well…that he hoped she was feeling better.”

“Anything else?” Mia asked. She had a feeling that he had omitted a critical piece.

Paul loosened his tie further. It was obvious she was making him uncomfortable. Mia felt guilty pressing him to remember, but it was of the utmost importance for him to continue.

“‘Angel.'”

Mia's brow rose at the sound of a word that for many suggested wholesomeness, purity.

“It's what he calls her. It was printed on the card.” A twinge of excitement surged through Mia. Killers and rapists often used nicknames when addressing their victims. More times than not, those pet names held a double meaning.

Angels represented innocence and virtue…cleanliness. Mia knew her next question would sting a bit, but she felt that she was honing in on a critical detail. “Paul, the night Erin was raped, you spoke of…of the blood beneath her dress.”

Paul looked away, but responded, “I'm…I'm not certain she was a virgin. We didn't discuss our sex lives with each other, being brother and sister and all. But the blood…well I wouldn't have been surprised if she had never been with anyone until that night.” Mia scribbled in her notebook, putting an asterisk next to the word “virgin.”

Mia had been busy taking notes when she heard Paul shift on the couch. He rolled his sleeves down and buttoned them at his wrist. He readjusted his tie back into a perfect knot. Paul was transforming back into lawyer mode, which would most likely make him less forthcoming and even more abrupt than the “relaxed” version.

“This feels more like therapy than a question-and-answer session,” he said curtly.

Yep, Paul the attorney was back. And it was obvious that he had had his fill for the night. He stood and reached for his suit jacket, not even waiting for a response.

“Oh, so you see a therapist?” Mia asked, unable to control herself. She didn't want to upset him further. It had taken a lot for him to dredge up such memories, but still. He didn't need to take it out on her.

Paul slipped on his jacket with two violent jerks of his arms. “We are finished here,” he said, walking toward the door.

No. They weren't done. Not by a long shot. “For now,” she said.

He didn't bother to look back at her. Paul Whitley stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

I
wouldn't take it personally,” Chase said from the doorway.

Mia forced a smile. She had wondered if Paul had said something to Chase and Erin, maybe vented about the incompetent profiler who was handling their case before leaving for his meeting in a colossal huff.

“I understand why he is so…guarded. I'm a stranger…who is asking some very probing questions.” She was sympathetic and recognized how difficult it was for someone to share something so personal. But she wasn't about to let him speak to her with disrespect, as if it took all that he had to just tolerate her.

Chase walked over and took a seat on the couch. “I guess it's my turn,” he said, stretching his legs out in front of him.

Although Mia suspected Chase's session would be the shortest in duration, she had the feeling that she would have to do a lot of dancing, making sure that her questions didn't elicit the fury she knew she could unleash. His girlfriend had been raped and continued to be stalked. How could he not feel helpless, angry…grief-stricken over how she had suffered?

Chase had come into Erin's life just a few weeks before. That was where she would start. There was no need to discuss the details of that night with him. Not now anyway.

Chase told Mia everything he could remember about the last several weeks, from the morning after Erin had been drugged to the present. Which, of course, included Gabrielle and her involvement with the rapist. Chase showed Mia the text Gabrielle had sent him the night she supposedly had killed herself. He couldn't blame the police for coming to that conclusion. She had attempted before utilizing the same cocktail: alcohol and drugs. Chase was thankful that Gabrielle's family had kept their daughter's last arrangements private. A viewing or funeral would have been incredibly awkward for him to attend.

“Let's back up a little. Talk to me more about the benefit. Was there anyone in attendance that you found…out of place?” Mia asked.

Scott Morris's smug face flashed across his mind. Chase didn't like him. He couldn't pinpoint why. It was possible he loathed the man because he had history with Erin. Chase knew that it was incredibly selfish and immature to despise the fact that Erin had a life before he came along, but he didn't care. Chase just had to keep reminding himself that Erin's present and future belonged to him.

Mia must have sensed something, because she looked up from her notebook and stared at him with a quizzical expression on her face. “Who was there, Chase?”

Chase didn't want to appear like a jealous boyfriend, making accusations with no evidence whatsoever. But he knew how important it was not to withhold information, even things that seemed far-fetched or based on gut feelings. “Erin's mentor from CHOP attended the benefit.”

“And that seemed odd to you?” Mia asked.

Chase shook his head. “No, Dr. Mitchell Morris is…I mean, was a doctor. His work is well-known; his cancer research is groundbreaking. I was not surprised to see him there. But his son…”

Chase watched Mia flip back a few pages in her notebook. “Scott Morris?” she asked.

The sound of that name made him wince, just enough for Mia to notice. But what disturbed him the most was that Scott Morris had been brought up before, by either Erin or Paul.

“Yes. I had never met him before. But Erin knew him previously from her volunteer experience in Philly.”

He didn't want to think about Erin discussing another man, but Chase couldn't resist. “Did Erin mention Scott Morris in her session with you?”

“Yes, briefly,” Mia said.

Though Chase was grateful that Mia spoke the truth, it still infuriated him to hear that his girlfriend thought Scott Morris was important enough to discuss.

“Why does he bother you?” she asked, not pulling any punches. He was obviously not doing a great job of masking his disgust in regard to Scott Morris.

“Because the asshole vibe he gives off is overpowering,” he said, his tone clipped and with more edge than he preferred when speaking to a woman.

Mia nodded and then looked at her notes. “Erin told me that Scott Morris's father died later that night. A few days later, Scott Morris came to her work, your building, and informed her personally that his father had passed. Does that sound accurate?”

“Yes. I watched him enter Erin's lab via camera. I couldn't hear their conversation, but I definitely didn't miss him hugging her.”

Mia's eyes rose from the page. “Erin didn't tell me that.”

“Well, she probably didn't think it was important. She told me that the gesture was a consolatory embrace, due to the fact he had just informed her that his father had died,” he said, fighting desperately to suppress his mounting frustration and jealousy.

“But you didn't think it was so innocent?” she asked.

“In Erin's mind, she was being sympathetic, performing the ritual people do when they learn that a loved one has died. I trust Erin completely. But Scott Morris? Let's just say that I wouldn't be surprised in the least if he had seized that opportunity to move in on her.”

“Has Scott Morris contacted her since that day?” Mia asked.

“No, I don't think so.” Chase was going to assure himself that was the case the moment the session was over.

“Okay.” Mia closed her notebook and set it on her lap. “I will need you to forward me the text from Gabrielle. I'm also going to ask Erin to send me all texts she has received from her attacker in the last several weeks.”

Chase knew he was being dismissed. And he couldn't be more grateful. He was tired of talking about the horrors his girl had lived through and what she was currently battling. There was nothing he could do to erase what had happened to Erin. But he could be there for her now.

“Thanks, Chase. You've been helpful and…very gracious.”

Chase knew that her previous session with Paul didn't go so well. Paul had hustled past him in the hallway, given his sister a quick kiss on the forehead and left the penthouse without saying a word. This situation was uncomfortable for everyone involved. But it was particularly painful for Paul. He had seen the monster, witnessed him violating his sister. How do you live with that memory?

“Like I said before, don't take Paul personally. Erin says he has always been more on the serious side. The death of their parents and Erin's incident only compounded his existing guarded demeanor.”

Mia sighed. “Don't worry. I'll give him some latitude.”

Chase was thankful that Mia had agreed to come and help. Before Andrew's suggestion to bring Mia on board, Chase had been tempted to take Erin far away from here, far away from the bastard. Mia was their last hope. But if they couldn't identify who was stalking Erin, Chase was going to follow through with his plans. They would disappear, forever fall off the radar, if that was what it would take to keep Erin safe.

P
aul could justify every lie he had ever told in his life. Some lies were uttered to protect people. Others were told to spare someone's feelings. But as he followed Mia Ryan home from Chase's penthouse more than three hours after his own session with her, Paul couldn't categorize the lie he had told Mia. There was no late-night meeting at his office, no pressing engagement that required his attendance. He had lied to escape
her
.

Sitting across from her on that couch in Chase's office, Paul had felt his defenses start to crumble. The way she had looked at him, as if searching for something, unnerved him. It was like she knew that it took everything he had to keep that mask he wore secure in her presence. He had hoped that once he left Chase's penthouse, his irrational thoughts and emotions would fall back in line. But that was not the case. In fact, it took only seconds after leaving Mia for him to realize that all he wanted was to see her again. Paul watched her pull into a small driveway. He parked two doors down and waited. For what exactly? He hadn't thought that far ahead. Mia exited the car and with keys in hand, ascended the steps to her porch. Moments later, each room was illuminated, as if she had the house wired to trigger the lights to turn on with one simple flip of the switch. The thought of her entering the house alone made him crazy. He should be searching her house, sweeping each room and giving the signal that all was well. It was a practice he had mastered over the course of the past year.

Why the hell did he feel so protective…possessive even, when he thought of Mia? Though she was beautiful, intelligent and so goddamned sexy, she was also the woman who had just learned his secrets and the violence he was capable of if given the opportunity. He had been able to set aside his lustful thoughts as he sat on that couch, discussing the events prior to and after his sister's rape. But the moment the session had ended, when Mia was no longer the interrogator, she once again became a woman, one whom he couldn't get out of his mind.

Paul wasn't proud of the way he had left Chase's penthouse, on the verge of a tantrum. At the time, he was unable to verbalize why he had to leave. He just needed to get far away from her. It was as if she possessed the ability to see right through him, and it was beyond uncomfortable.

Mia reemerged a minute later, but this time she had company. A high-strung, and from the looks of it, untrained, yellow Lab came barreling out the front door, dragging Mia along her front walkway with leash in one hand, and a plastic baggie in the other. She is not going to walk that animal through the streets at this time of night!

Paul couldn't believe what he was witnessing. She had been a police officer in one of the most dangerous cities in the world. She knew what lurked around its corners, saw it firsthand, and had even had the unfortunate privilege to speak with some of the sickest criminals about their crimes. And yet she continued with her stroll.

Paul had hoped that she would end her walk after the dog had relieved himself, but she had not turned around; instead she was picking up speed in the opposite direction from her house. She was halfway down the street when Paul decided that he had enough. He leapt out of his car and started walking briskly toward her.

He didn't want to frighten her, and just as he was about to call her name, Paul heard the chambering of a round and froze in his tracks. With pistol in hand, Mia turned and faced him.

“It's just me, Mia,” he said, his hands outstretched, palms up.

“Goddamn it, Paul! What the hell are you doing here?” she said, tucking the gun away in some hidden pocket of her zip-up jacket.

He decided to lie for the second time in one night. It would be more believable and a lot less creepy. “I wanted to apologize for how I acted tonight at Chase's. You're trying to help us and I responded by being…well, a rude asshole.”

“A phone call would have sufficed, Paul.” She looked at him, her eyes boring into his. “Long meeting?” she asked.

Paul leafed through the scattered thoughts in his brain. Meeting? Oh yeah, that meeting, the one he had conjured up to avoid further exposure to Mia. “Yes, we wrapped up about an hour ago.” He needed to regain control of the conversation. “Anyway, I pulled up just in time to see you walking…” He looked down at the Lab. The dog, which was still very much a puppy trapped in a grown dog's body, was wagging excessively, begging to be petted and paid attention to. “Is this why you carry a gun?” he asked, pointing to the dog.

“Henry. That's his name,” she said, patting his broad head. “And I didn't adopt him for protection. He needed a home and I needed…well, he keeps me company.” Paul didn't miss the inflection in her voice, the slight hesitation that spoke volumes. Mia must have detected her slipup because she stopped petting Henry and started in the direction of her house.

Good. At least she wasn't going to continue her midnight stroll through the neighborhood.

“Please tell me you don't make it a habit to walk Henry at this hour every night?” he said, trailing behind her.

Mia stopped abruptly and turned. Her about-face put him within inches of her. He stared at her, though she only kept his gaze for less than a second before looking away. But in that brief moment, when he could hear her sweet and quickened exhalations, he couldn't help but want to kiss those slightly parted lips. The floral scent of her perfume mixed with her shampoo was enticing him to make those inches between them vanish.

“He has yet to master using the men's room. So, yes. If nature calls, I walk him and let him take care of business,” she said, taking two steps back, away from him.

Paul wanted to smile, maybe even let out a chuckle. She was witty and adorable when pissed off. But the thought of her walking around at night, gun or not, sobered him and all he could do was chastise her. “I don't think it's wise for you to be out here alone.”

“I can take care of myself, Paul. I was a police officer, remember?”

“But you are also a woman and…” She shot him a look, cutting him off and making him want to recall his words. Where the hell did that sexist comment come from? The remark was out of character, even for him. He was just about to bite the bullet and apologize yet again, when he heard a screen door open and smack shut.

“Mia? Is that you, dear?”

Paul could hear Mia let out a barely audible groan.

“Oh, hi, Rose. Yes, it's just me…out walking Henry. He's a bit restless tonight.”

Paul watched Rose rummage through the pocket of her pink terrycloth robe. She withdrew a pair of glasses and set them on her face. With her face now only slightly scrunched, she asked, “And who is your friend?”

“I don't believe this,” Mia muttered, though not loud enough for the older woman to hear.

Paul decided to take advantage of the situation. He smiled at Mia and then walked the few short steps to Rose's stoop. “My name is Paul. Mia and I work together.” He reached out his hand and shook her dainty one.

Rose blushed and then cleared her throat. “And I'm Rose, the nosy next-door neighbor.” She released his hand and then looked over his shoulder at Mia. “He's quite handsome, Mia. Almost as handsome as my George…God rest his soul.” There was just a touch of sadness in her hazel eyes when she mentioned George, a man he assumed was her late husband. The woman's ability to remain strong, even playful in a way, suggested that her George had been gone for some time.

Paul was dying to look behind him and catch a glimpse of the expression on Mia's face. But he resisted the temptation and decided to give the lovely woman before him his undivided attention. “George was a lucky man,” he said. Rose's already-pink cheeks turned a violent crimson.

“Handsome and…charming,” Rose said, chuckling.

“And leaving,” Mia said from behind him.

Paul felt Mia's determined hand try to encase his. He adjusted and took her hand firmly in his and drew her close. “It was nice to meet you, Rose,” he said, nodding. Rose gave him an abbreviated version of a curtsey.

“Good night, Rose,” Mia said, practically dragging him down Rose's walkway. Mia didn't look at him, but she didn't let go of his hand either. Paul loved how her hand felt in his.

“Let me know if you ever need me to dog sit. You know, if you two need some alone time?” Rose called after them.

Paul couldn't stifle his laugher any longer. He chuckled, which only seemed to frustrate Mia even more. Mia gave her neighbor a wave, acknowledging the offer, and dragged him and poor Henry across Rose's yard and onto Mia's property. She wrestled with her keys, managing to open the door to her bungalow with one hand and entering the quaint foyer. Henry trotted off to the kitchen, probably in search of a drink. When they were securely in her house, with the door shut behind them, she attempted to let go of his hand. But his fingers only tightened around hers.

God, he wanted her.

He drew her close, knowing that she wouldn't be able to miss just how much. Paul noticed that her breathing matched his, quietly stimulated. Mia bit her lower lip, revealing that she may be nervous. But she didn't back away; instead, he felt her lean into him. He wanted to taste the lip that she desperately seemed to cling to. He lowered his head slowly, giving her every opportunity to turn him away. But she just stood there, her fingers still entwined with his when Paul heard neurotic barking coming from some room in the house. With the exception of Mia telling him to stop, he didn't think there was anything else that could make him switch gears so quickly. He instantly let go of her hand and ran in the direction of the barking.

Paul heard Mia cock her pistol as she followed close behind. Scratching accompanied barking and then…whimpering. Paul rounded the corner to Mia's kitchen to witness the world's worst watchdog in action. Henry had discovered a small colony of ants in his kitchen. But Henry didn't appear interested in the cluster of ants that were now making a meal out of a piece of fallen bread. No, what concerned him was the rogue ant that evaded every swat of his paw and then had the nerve to seek refuge beneath the fridge. Henry looked up at Paul as if seeking his assistance.

“I'm glad you have the gun,” Paul said. He bent down and petted the dog between the ears.

Mia set the pistol on the island. “He has great intentions,” she said, smiling at Henry.

He had to leave…now. He had been seconds away from kissing Mia, claiming her in her very own foyer. Henry's barking had been the wake-up call he needed. He couldn't get involved with someone while that madman was out there, terrorizing his sister. He was on an emotional roller coaster, on which his sexual desire for Mia would mount to an unhealthy extreme and then descend abruptly when reality set in.

Paul stood, leaving Henry wanting more. “I'm sorry for how I treated you at Chase's. I have no excuse other than it is difficult for me to discuss what happened to my sister. You asked me if I see a therapist. I haven't yet, but plan to with Erin. I agreed to go with her for a family session, just haven't gotten around to it.”

Those deep blue eyes softened and her body seemed to relax as she leaned against the kitchen island. “I shouldn't have asked if you were seeing a therapist. It's really none of my business. You just have the uncanny ability to…frustrate me.”

Her choice of words was interesting and making him…aroused. Time to leave before he showed her just how sexually frustrated
he
was. He could still feel her hand in his, her body pressed against him while they stood in her foyer. She hadn't said no, but she didn't say yes either. In hindsight, she had been like a deer in headlights. As if she had never found herself in a similar situation, one in which a man had made it crystal clear that he wanted her.

Impossible. Mia was beautiful, everything that a man craved. There was no way she could have made it to her mid-twenties without being…he didn't want to finish his own thought. Picturing Mia being intimate with another man infuriated him.

Paul didn't look at her for fear that he would be unable to control himself. He took the coward's way out and diverted his attention to Henry. He gave the dog a couple strokes and a good scratch on the belly. “Well, I hope we can start over. I promise to not be such an ass next time.”

“And I will do my best not to take things personally and allow you to frustrate me. Clean slate?” she asked, bending down and giving Henry a couple scratches.

Now at eye level, hovering over Henry, Paul reached out his hand. “Clean slate,” he said. She shook his hand, sealing the deal. Paul noticed that she didn't look at him. Interesting.

Time to get the hell out of Dodge. Before he ruined what he had just repaired. Paul rose to his feet and started for the front door. “So what is the next step in the investigation? You've talked to all of us. Now what?” he asked, purposefully steering the conversation in another direction.

“Well, I will review my notes from our sessions and analyze all correspondence to help develop a timeline, motive, and criminal profile. Speaking with the three of you this weekend was just the first step. There will be more conversations, more questions that need answers. I just don't know what those questions are yet. I will need to do my homework to see what information I may be missing. And that can take some time.”

“Can I help you in some way?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not at this stage. The next several days will consist of me up to my elbows in notes and evidence and comparing them with similar cases.” He felt his face fall and he quickly tried to mask his disappointment.

“But I will need you. I mean…I know I will have questions and details that need to be provided,” she said, blushing. “Also, I told Erin and Chase that I would like to meet with the three of you after I had some time to look at everything.”