Grave Intentions (10 page)

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Authors: Lori Sjoberg

BOOK: Grave Intentions
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Remembering a detail he’d nearly forgotten, he grabbed for the pencil. With a few subtle strokes, he added two tiny moles along the right side of her jaw. Satisfied, he held the paper up to the light, comparing it to memory so he could make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything else.
The rumble of an engine broke his concentration. Glancing out the window, he saw a black Ford pickup pull up to the curb. The passenger door opened and Adam spilled out, giggling loud enough for David to hear. Adam gave the driver a quick wave before staggering toward the building like a drunken sailor on shore leave.
With a sigh, David stuffed the drawing under the thick stack of papers on his desk. He preferred to keep his hobby private, and that wasn’t easy with a trainee living under the same roof. He’d revisit the drawing later, after a rough day when his soul was weary and he needed a moment of sanctuary from the darkness.
chapter 7
Some days it just didn’t pay to get out of bed.
Sarah’s day started with a fender bender on I-4 that blocked two lanes of traffic and added an extra thirty minutes to her drive time, followed by another run-in with the protesters camped out in front of Cava Tech’s main gates. This time, the jerk in the bunny costume and two of his goons blocked the entrance, refusing to budge until the police arrived. As they were cuffed and tossed into the back of a patrol car, the protesters chanted, “Free Bugs!” while cameras captured the action for the six o’clock news.
Of course, no bad day would be complete without an altercation with Angelo. He’d been in another one of his award-winning moods, making one of the lab techs cry by the time he was finished with her. Then his attention shifted to Sarah, criticizing her procedures and demanding a full report on the most recent test results before day’s end. Which normally wouldn’t have posed a problem, if Jackie hadn’t called in sick. But she did, which meant Sarah was flying solo in the lab, compiling cell ratios until her eyes felt like they were going to bleed.
To make matters worse, thoughts of David had crowded her mind, wrecking her concentration and making her uncharacteristically scattered. She still couldn’t get over his sudden appearance after dropping off the face of the earth for the better part of the week. He was the last person she’d expected at her doorstep last night, looking handsome and healthy and completely healed.
Even more astonishing was the way she got butterflies in her stomach every time he made eye contact. Something about David gave her a major case of the warm fuzzies, awakening emotions she’d put on the back burner so she could focus on her career and Pearl. And how pitiful was that? Here she was, closing in on the big three-o, and her most promising romantic interest pitched for the other team.
The parking garage was almost empty by the time Sarah finished her reports and called it a night. She’d been the last one out of her lab, leaving only Richardson in the main office and the two night janitors. Only a faint scattering of vehicles remained in their spots, giving the building the eerie ambiance of a long-deserted ghost town.
With keys in hand she stepped up the pace, the click of her heels echoing across the cavernous structure. For some reason, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Without breaking stride her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, searching for hidden dangers but finding none.
When she heard what sounded like footsteps behind her, a bolt of fear set her heart to racing. Should she run, or would she be better off facing her attacker? Would anyone hear her if she screamed? Adrenaline pumping, she weighed the merits of fight versus flight. In the end she chose to go on the offensive and whirled around.
Nothing.
“Get a grip,” Sarah muttered under her breath, feeling foolish but still digging through her purse for the slender canister of pepper spray she kept stashed in one of the inside pockets. She was almost to her car, but it never hurt to err on the side of caution.
She hurried past a silver Dodge minivan and felt a surge of relief when her car came into view. Never before had a Mazda Miata looked like such a beacon of security. That is, until she noticed the tires.
“Oh, crap.” Both of the passenger-side tires were completely flat, making the car tilt a little to the right. Sarah chewed on her thumbnail, debating what to do next. She only had one of those little doughnut spares in the trunk. And because she had the worst luck in the known universe, she’d let her AAA membership expire two months ago.
“Problem?” a masculine voice said from behind, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. With a yelp, she spun around to find Angelo, looking as refined and proper as ever. And maybe a little pleased.
“My apologies,” he said, his palms held up in mock surrender. “I did not intend to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” Sarah said, her heart still thumping like she’d just come out of a
Saw
movie. Thank God she hadn’t hosed him with the pepper spray. Imagine how that would have looked on her performance report. Discreetly, she slipped the canister back into her purse. “I just wasn’t expecting anybody to come up behind me.”
“You sounded distressed. I thought it best to investigate.” He gave her a questioning look. “What is the problem?”
“Flat tires.” Sarah pointed at her lopsided car.
“Hmm, I see.” Angelo angled himself between Sarah and the Miata. He crouched down beside the front tire and gave it a cursory inspection. “You must have picked up a few nails. Not too surprising, given all the construction in the area.”
“True.” Cava Tech was strategically located in the middle of Orlando’s burgeoning medical research community, with the surrounding area growing by leaps and bounds. Families bought homes close by to cut their commute, while businesses moved into neighboring strip malls, eager for a slice of the economic pie. “But I only have one spare in the trunk.”
“Well, in that case, why don’t I give you a ride home?” Angelo asked as he rose to standing. He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved a set of keys. “It’s the least I can do, after being so short with you this afternoon. You can call a tow truck in the morning.”
She glanced back at her car. “I don’t know . . .”
“Oh, come now,” Angelo cajoled, his voice smoother than crushed velvet. He inched closer, and the scent of expensive aftershave enveloped her like a musky cloud. “What are the odds of getting a tow truck so late in the day? You’ll be stuck here for hours. It’s not safe for a woman to be out here all by herself.”
As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. Even though security was tight at Cava Tech, the thought of being stuck in a dimly lit parking garage for hours while waiting for a tow truck gave her the creeps.
“Well, I suppose you’re right.” Sarah forced out a smile, all the while trying to convince herself that accepting a ride from Angelo beat sitting alone in her car. As the saying goes, better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.
“Then it’s settled.” Angelo smiled, a picture of triumph under fluorescent lights. He made a sweeping gesture toward the sporty black Bentley parked in one of the reserved spots by the elevators. He pressed a button on his remote and the convertible top began to retract. “And while we’re at it, we can finally have that dinner date.”
An hour and a half later, Angelo’s Bentley glided through the front entrance of Sarah’s apartment complex. He pulled into a parking spot in front of her building, cut the engine, and stepped out of the car.
Contrary to her darkest expectations, Angelo had behaved like a perfect gentleman throughout dinner, refraining from any double entendres or unwanted physical contact. In fact, he’d acted outright charming, although that might be the wine talking.
Angelo rounded the front end of the Bentley and opened the passenger side door. “Allow me,” he said, offering his hand.
“Thank you.” Sarah took his hand, keenly aware of the warm strength of his grip as he helped her out of the car. She felt a wave of disorientation when she stood, her balance not quite up to par. Angelo was quick to put both hands on her waist, steadying her. “Whoa. I should have passed on that last glass of wine.”
“Nonsense.” Angelo gave her a smile, his eyes moving over her in a manner far too intimate for an employer-subordinate relationship. “You didn’t even finish your second glass.”
Part of her brain processed Angelo’s last statement, wondering why two glasses of wine gave her such a strong buzz. It wasn’t like she’d chugged them like a sorority sister on Spring Break. She’d sipped them slowly over the course of dinner, so why was it affecting her like this?
The question evaporated from her clouded brain as Angelo guided her up the stairs to her apartment. “Why don’t you give me your keys? I’ll get the door for you.”
“It’s okay, I can handle it.”
Sarah found herself questioning the wisdom of her words as she struggled to fit the key into the lock. Good lord, what was her problem? Two drinks never inflicted this much damage to her manual dexterity. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs, and suffered a wave of dizziness for her efforts.
Angelo put a hand on her hip, turning her toward him. Eyes darkened with lust, he moved closer, caging her between the door and his body. “Then how about a good-night kiss? I promise not to bite, unless you ask me to.”
Sarah opened her mouth to say no, but his mouth covered hers, swallowing the words. The kiss was skilled and sensual, with an underlying aggression lurking just beneath the surface. She gasped at the feel of his tongue inside her mouth, his hands firm on her hips.
She jerked her head back, breaking the kiss. The back of her head thumped against the door and for a second she saw two Angelos. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Of course it is,” Angelo countered, his mouth moving to her neck. “You’ve played hard to get for far too long, Sarah. I was beginning to grow impatient.” His breath felt impossibly hot against her flesh as his teeth nibbled a path toward her earlobe. “It’s time we got to know each other more intimately.”
“No.” Sarah’s vision blurred as she struggled to keep a clear head. She knew what he wanted, could feel the evidence pressing against her hip. One of his hands slipped under her shirt, inching northward at an alarming rate. Much to her horror, she realized her body welcomed the attention. Her skin felt hot, prickly, overly sensitive and aching to be touched. But she didn’t want to be touched by Angelo. No, she wanted somebody else, somebody who didn’t share the same attraction.
“Let’s go inside,” Angelo murmured, his free hand fumbling for the door handle.
No.
Even with her head in a fog, she knew this wasn’t right. Not him. Not ever. She shook her head again, struggling to regain some semblance of clarity. For a fleeting moment her mind cleared, and she pushed back against his chest. “Angelo, no!”
 
“When’s our next appointment?” Adam asked. He was standing in front of the refrigerator with the door wide open. “Do I have time for a beer?”
David checked his watch. “Yeah, you’re good. We don’t have anything scheduled until a little after midnight.”
“Cool.” Adam pulled out a bottle of Sam Adams and unscrewed the cap. “
Sorority Slayers 2
starts in ten minutes.” He sauntered over to the couch and Buford jumped onto the cushion beside him.
“Wonderful.” David turned his attention back to the map he’d pulled up on his computer. Tonight’s assignment was on the south side of town, not too far from the Orange County lockup. Two fatalities, six minutes apart. In spite of the heavy police presence, the area remained a hotbed of gang activity, making the news on an almost nightly basis. They’d be lucky to make it in and out without getting shot, stabbed, or arrested by Orlando’s finest.
The sound of voices outside caught David’s attention. It sounded like Sarah, and she didn’t sound happy. And when he heard her shout a desperate, “No!” he felt an immediate, instinctive pull toward the door.
“Everything all right?” he asked when he poked his head outside. He found Sarah leaning against the door to her apartment, her skin flushed and her eyes glassy. A tall, dark haired guy had his arm braced against the door by her head. His other hand was on her waist, and she sure as hell didn’t seem happy about it.
David wasn’t exactly overjoyed with the situation either. In fact, the sight of another man touching Sarah ignited emotions dark and primal, a reaction that caught him completely off guard.
He had no business interfering with her life. She was a grown woman, fully capable of taking care of herself. And yet he found himself stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind him.
Sarah’s eyes darted in David’s direction and a look of pure relief washed over her. “David!” she said, her slurred speech overly enthusiastic.
Tall, Dark and Slimy didn’t look nearly as thrilled. Muscles tense, his gaze slanted over to David, a scowl darkening his finely chiseled features. “Everything is fine,” he said, his Italian accent clipped.
“Yeah. Angelo was just saying good night,” Sarah said, the words coming out slow and muddled, like she was struggling to complete a coherent sentence. She pushed his hand off her hip and then reached up and patted his cheek. “Thanks for dinner . . . and the ride home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I will pick you up in the morning,” Angelo said, the anger radiating from him almost palpable.
“No, don’t do that,” Sarah said with a wave of her hand. She shook her head and her eyes appeared to momentarily lose focus. “Jackie’s right around the block. She’ll give me a ride.” She opened the door and stumbled inside. “Night!”
And then she was gone. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, and David heard the unmistakable sound of a chain sliding into place.
Angelo glared at David, a look of murder in his eyes. Boy, was he pissed, David thought with a growing sense of satisfaction. He hoped the asshole was mad enough to try something stupid; then he’d have a good excuse to pound the living daylights out of him.
“I would appreciate it next time if you’d mind your own business,” Angelo said, his voice strained with barely contained anger.

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