I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville) (31 page)

“This isn’t PTSD, Gail. I know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s not like I plan to date the guy. It was a fun night.”

Not really listening now, Leah glanced toward the couch at Charlie, who stared at her with sad eyes. The dog sensed her fear and agitation. Philip was coming for her, of that she was certain. “Could you keep Charlie tonight?”

“Why?”

“Like you said, my anniversary is tomorrow, and it would be better if she isn’t around me until I know for sure if this is Philip or not.”

Gail shook her head. “Nothing is going to happen.”

Unshed tears burned in her throat. She wasn’t crazy. She knew what she was talking about. “Will you take her?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.”

 

 

Deke and Alex drove to Brian Lawrence’s address, an older home with brick front steps and a wide front porch. The yard appeared to have been kept up. The hedges were trimmed, and the front sidewalk looked as if it had been patched in the last year.

Alex climbed the front steps and rang the bell, which echoed in the house. He rang again and then pounded. No answer.

“I’ll have a look around back,” Deke said. “Give me a second.”

“Thanks.”

Deke trotted down the stairs and around the house and returned minutes later. “It’s locked up tight. But there’s no sign of anyone. Looks like he’s got a construction project going. There’s quite a bit of lumber stacked in the backyard.”

“Let’s talk to the neighbors.”

They knocked on three different doors before they got an answer. The woman was older, with graying hair and a lined face.

“Ma’am, we’re with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation and the Nashville Police Department. We’re looking for Brian Lawrence.”

She gathered the folds of her sweater at the nape of her neck in fragile, deeply veined hands. “I haven’t seen Brian in a few weeks.”

“Does he travel often?”

“Not this time of year. He owns a tow truck, and this is one of his busiest seasons. People are always getting stuck in the ice and snow. Dead batteries. I hate the cold, but he says he smells green when the temperature drops.”

“He drives a tow truck?”

“Well, the last couple of weeks it’s been his cousin driving the truck. He said Brian had to go home to visit their grandmother. She’s sick. And I think that’s just so sweet.”

“What’s his cousin’s name?”

She cocked her head for a second. “Funny, I don’t know. He must have said it when I introduced myself, but I didn’t catch it. Bob maybe?”

Alex showed her the cell picture. “Is this Brian’s cousin?” She smiled. “Face isn’t clear, but it must be. I recognize his ring.”

“Ring?”

“The one with the L on it. He said their grandfather gave one to him and one to his cousin.”

Deke and Alex thanked the woman and walked back to the car.

“Cousin.” Deke studied the house. “Brian Lawrence, the real one, was an army vet. Served with distinction and started a towing business. Has a solid reputation. He has no connection to Leah Carson that I could find. Who’s the cousin?”

“Care to make a bet? Philip Latimer. He’s back in town, and I would bet money he killed Brian and took over his identity.”

“If it is Latimer, why has he waited all this time to come after Leah? He’s had four years to kill her. Why now?”

“Stalkers can take breaks, but you’re right. That’s one of the puzzle pieces I haven’t placed yet. You check the DNA on the body found at the warehouse?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m having it cross-referenced to the body parts found by the river as we speak.”

“Good.” Everything pointed to Philip Latimer. Everything. And yet the puzzle was missing a key piece.

Deke studied his brother, reached in his pocket, and pulled out a fresh packet of crackers. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks. I feel like a million bucks.”

Deke glowered. “Mom had a dry sense of humor like that. Drove Dad crazy.”

Alex unwrapped the crackers. “Dad liked the slapstick stuff. Falling-on-banana-peels kind of humor. But considering what he saw on the job, I can’t blame him.”

“Mom went for subtle humor. Slightly dark. Like you.”

Alex bit into the cracker, realizing just how hungry he was. “Since when did you become the mother hen?”

“Since you landed in the hospital with bruised ribs. I’ll go back to ignoring you in a day or two.”

 

 

Leah arrived home at two. Stressed and unable to concentrate, Dr. Nelson had given her the afternoon off. She had texted Alex a couple of times but hadn’t heard back from him and knew she was on her own. Her skin itched with worry and dark anticipation.

Again, she considered stuffing a bag full of clothes and running. Dr. Nelson would give her some time if she explained. Just a few days to buy time.

Time.

Laying low might chase away some of the biting energy that nipped at her now, but it wouldn’t solve the problem of Philip in the long run.

Philip would find her, and she had no desire to prolong this evil dance. Better to stay. Face the demon. And if he didn’t appear? Or if he were a figment of her imagination? Then she’d begin the long wait until this time next year.

Inside her town house, bright lights waited for her. She shrugged off her coat, dropped her purse on the table by the front door, and hung up the coat. She crossed to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. Coffee this late in the day would rob her of all sleep, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

Remembering the listening device in the living room, she switched on soft music. She checked all the closets in her town house and under her bed. When she was certain they were all empty, she returned to the front door, double-checked the chain, and then checked every window. All locked. Satisfied, she moved into her bedroom and stripped off her work clothes. She turned on the shower, pinned up her hair, and, when the water was hot, stepped into the spray. The heat felt good against her skin, but she didn’t dare linger in the shower. She quickly dressed and moved into the kitchen for her coffee. As she reached for a mug, her front doorbell rang.

She moved slowly toward the front door and looked through the glass. Alex’s stern gaze lifted to hers, as if he knew she was there. He looked tired, his features drawn.

She leaned closer to the door, her fingers poised over the dead bolt. “Alex?”

“Yes. And I’m alone.”

With a trembling hand, she turned the dead bolt and opened the door.

His gaze roamed over her. “May I come in?”

“Sure.” She stepped aside and caught the barest hint of his scent as he passed. “You’re looking a little rough.”

“It’s been a long night and day.”

She closed the door and locked it, double-checking the door handle with a twist of her wrist. If Philip was listening now, he’d be furious that she had a man alone in her place. Good. Let him get an earful. “Did you get my text?”

“I did. I spoke to Gail. I just missed you at the clinic. There’s not much she can tell me about her guy.”

“No. She thinks I’m crazy now for sounding the alarm.”

“Better crazy than dead.”

“Come on in. Sit down. God, you must be sore. Can I get you something to eat? Coffee?”

Carefully, he tugged off his jacket and hung it on the peg beside hers. His gait was almost even, but she noticed it wasn’t as fluid as it was when he ran. “I just made coffee.”

“I’d love a cup of coffee.”

“I can pop a pizza in the oven.”

“That would be great.”

She went into the kitchen to put the pizza in the oven and pour him a cup of coffee. “How do you take it?”

“Black’s fine.”

She handed him his cup and took a seat beside him on the couch. As he sipped, she reached into the side table for a pencil and pad and wrote in clear block letters: R
EMEMBER
, I
FOUND A LISTENING DEVICE
. S
OMEONE IS LISTENING
.

Alex read the note as he sipped and nodded. Many men would have been afraid, branded her too much trouble. In a clear voice, he said, “I think Philip Latimer is in Nashville.”

To think it could be true was one thing. To hear it from Alex added frightening depth and meaning. “You’re sure?”

He settled back on the couch, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He spoke as if they were discussing the recent cold snap. “I think he killed Deidre and a man named Brian Lawrence.”

“Brian Lawrence? Gail’s date was Brian Lawrence. He’s the man who dropped off the dog at the clinic a few days ago and never claimed her. I even called him myself and left him voice-mail messages.”

“Really?”

She nodded her head. “The instant I saw Charlie, I remembered a dog I’d had as a kid. Philip would have known I’d fall for that dog right away.”

“Where’s the dog now?”

“Somewhere safe. I didn’t dare bring her home tonight.”

“You think he’ll strike on the anniversary?”

“I know he will. The date meant a lot to him.”

He set his coffee cup down and reached for her hand. Slowly, he turned it over. Tempted as she was to pull her hand away, she held steady and allowed him to trace the tip of his finger along her palm. A dark frown deepened the lines on his face.

He raised her palm to his lips and kissed it. She closed her eyes, savoring the explosion of warmth that spread through her body. “Very, very brave.”

“I’m afraid. All the time, I expect him to return. I hate that.”

“Philip thinks he’s in charge of the game. He’s not. You are. I am.”

She wanted to believe, but even now, with the two of them alone, they both sensed Philip listening. Lurking.

Having Alex this close gave her a sense of courage. She’d wanted to touch him and kiss him since the first time he’d asked her out. But fear had kept her at bay. No more. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

“I told you, it’s bugged. He’ll hear us,” she whispered.

He cupped her face. “I know.”

“You know he’ll come after you again.”

“That’s the plan.”

For her, what was happening between them was based on need. Need for feeling. Need for pleasure. For revenge. “He’ll be enraged,” she whispered in his ear.

He kissed her a second time, injecting a passion that surprised and thrilled her. “And he’ll make a mistake. And when he does that, I’ll be there.”

He kissed her hand again and then rose from the couch. She led him to the bedroom, toward the bed. He cupped her face again, kissing her, making her forget everything but him.

When they’d first met, she’d been afraid of him. She’d recognized the intensity in his gaze and mistaken it for Philip’s. Alex possessed a darkness, but there was also tenderness in his soul, a need for truth and knowledge.

She leaned in and kissed him, slowly unfastening the buttons on his shirt. When she pushed it over his shoulders, his muscles flinched, and she saw the swath of dark bruises that skimmed along his rib cage. Gently, she touched it with her fingertips. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve taken a lick.” Again, he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed the tips. She stepped back, her gaze locked on his as she pulled off her shirt and exposed her naked scars to his gaze. She tensed as she waited for him to see only the scars, but his gaze settled on her breasts seconds before he cupped them in his hands. “So pretty.”

She arched into him, and all the self-consciousness evaporated in the heat of this moment.

He traced the underside of one breast with his finger. Energy shot through her body, and when he gently squeezed her nipple, she sucked in a breath.

She gently touched the bruise on his side, tracing the reds and blues with her fingertip. She knelt down and kissed the bruise.

When she reached for his belt buckle, he hissed in a breath. “Is this business or pleasure?”

He kissed her. “All pleasure.”

She unzipped his pants and slid her hand against him. The moan that rumbled in his chest sounded part animal, and she knew under the cool exterior beat a primitive heart.

When she took him in her mouth, he threaded his fingers through her hair. Again he moaned, closing his eyes and dropping back his head. She savored this womanly power.

Soon, both were naked and on her bed. She straddled above him, tracking her fingertips gently over his bruised ribs. He tensed but didn’t ask her to stop.

His finger grazed the scar on her belly. Anger flashed across his gaze, so quickly she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. He traced his fingers lower, and she forgot about shame or worry. She moaned his name and gave in to the sensation.

 

 

He sat in the car, listening to the transponder. His hands gripped the steering wheel as Leah called out another man’s name as she climaxed. He’d thought back to when he’d listened to Deidre make love to another man. She’d moaned and cooed like a dog in heat.

He reached for the knife in his pocket, flipped it open, and jabbed the razor-sharp tip into the seat. Leather tore as he slid the blade over the seat cushion. When the blade reached the seatback, he lifted it and drove it into the seat again. As it ripped, he imagined it was skin and muscle.

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

When Leah awoke, sunshine streamed in through the windows. Her body was relaxed, liquid, and a strong sense of hope burned inside her. It had been the worst day of her life four years ago, and today it was one of the best.

When she rolled onto her side, she found Alex lying still as a stone on his back. His breathing was slow, but a tension rippling over his muscles suggested he was not asleep.

“What’re you thinking?” she asked.

A sigh shuddered through him as he reluctantly surrendered the peace of the moment. “About today.” He opened his eyes and wincing rolled on his side to face her. “I’ve been running through scenarios, trying to figure out what Philip will do. So many unknown variables.”

“He’s smart. And he’s patient. Four years is a long time to plan.”

Alex traced a lock of hair away from her face. “He’ll make a mistake.” Confidence radiated from Alex, which made believing him easy. Of course he was good at what he did.

“Philip won’t back down,” she said.

He traced his palm down her arm, his fingers skimming over a scar. “I’m planning on it,” he whispered, close against her ear.

She laid a hand on his cheek, wanting to believe that somehow this nightmare with Philip would soon end. She leaned in and kissed him. The kiss quickly deepened, and he rolled on top of her, his erection hard against her. The desire that had overtaken her last night had felt uncontrollable. So much time alone, and then to feel a physical touch—it had been too much to resist. Now, in the light of day, making love to him now felt equally as tantalizing, but it also felt like a choice, not a primal need. She was choosing to be with him. Choosing to allow her heart to open just a little. Choosing to feel.

Having feelings for anyone risked everything as far as she was concerned. And the risk, much like standing on the edge of a cliff, scared her as much as it exhilarated. Caring was dangerous. But the idea of spending the rest of her days alone scared her more. She wanted to feel. To love.

She slid her hands down his back and slowly opened her legs to him. He kissed the hollow of her neck, her breast, as he moved inside her.

She arched, sighed into his touch, and allowed the walls to drop.

 

 

Leah stood at the front door, watching Alex drive off, remembering her promises to him to stay here. He had also posted a uniformed officer parked in front of her town house. He wanted her safe while he went hunting.

She’d been alone ten minutes when a text dinged on her phone. The number was Gail’s. She opened a picture, an image of Gail, Charlie, and a man with a blurred face sitting on Gail’s couch. Gail looked grim-faced and worried. The man appeared to be grinning. The message read: O
PEN UP
. W
E WANT TO COME IN AND PLAY
. D
ON’T CALL LOVER BOY
.

The blood rushed from Leah’s head as she approached her front door. He’d been a cop. He knew how to be careful. How to approach a house.

A knock sounded on the door. She jumped, heart pounding and fingers sweating as she moved toward the chained door and glanced out the peephole. The man on her doorstep was wearing a cop’s uniform, and though he faced the door, his head was tipped slightly so that the brim of his hat shadowed his face. He rapped on the door again. She jumped, not sure if she should laugh with relief or cry with fear as sharp as a razor’s edge.

Carefully, she opened the front door. “Yes, Officer?”

The man looked up, and she stood face-to-face with Tyler Radcliff. Feet braced and arms on his hips, he filled the front porch, grinning and alone. “What’re you doing here?”

He touched the brim of his hat. “Mind if I come in for a minute? It’s about Deidre’s funeral.”

Her heart twisted with guilt. Of course he’d come about the funeral. Even as she reached for the doorknob, fear tugged at her.
Don’t
.
Deidre was afraid of him. And she’d died.
“Whatever you have to say to me you can say on the porch.”

A muscle tightened in his jaw as he summoned another grin. “I know I wasn’t at my best the other day, Ms. Carson.”

“You’re not coming into my home, Sheriff. What do you want?”

Brown eyes darkened to a savage black that robbed her of breath. “I’d think for Gail and Charlie’s sake you’d let me inside.”

Every thought and feeling in her stilled. “How do you know about them?”

He raised his hand, and the gold signet ring with the letter L winked in the light. Philip’s ring. Before she could process it, he pushed his way into the town house, knocking her aside as if she didn’t weigh more than an ounce.

She stumbled. “Where are Gail and Charlie?”

“Safe.”

“Where? And why would you take them? I told you all I know about finding Deidre. I can’t help you find her killer.”

Slowly, he removed his hat and traced the brim with his fingers. “I know who killed her.”

“What?” She dug fingernails into her scarred palms. “How could you know?”

His gaze rose to hers. “Because I killed her.”

Leah took a step back, her thoughts skittering to the officer parked across the street. She ran toward her door, hoping to barrel past him, but he caught her easily, covering her mouth with his hand. “He can’t help you anyway. Right about now that coffee I gave him is putting him to sleep. He’ll be out for hours.”

She struggled and kicked, knowing she’d go to her grave fighting if that was what it took. She angled her head, trapped his finger between her teeth, and bit down hard. Pain rumbled in his body, but instead of letting her go, he slammed her hard against the front door, knocking the wind out of her. “I planned to make your killing quick and easy, but if you piss me off, I’ll take my time, just like I did with Deidre.”

She squirmed more and tried to scream, but he held her close. He easily lifted her off her feet and carried her to her bedroom, where he tossed her on her bed. Tears filling her eyes, she scrambled to get off the other side, but he caught her leg and jerked her back hard. He easily flipped her on her belly and twisted her hand behind her back, sending a bolt of pain up her arm and robbing her of breath. She screamed, but he pushed her face into the coverlet, muffling the sound. He held her like that, and soon she struggled to breathe.

Hyperventilating, her body quickly became starved for oxygen. She grew light-headed as he kept his knee in her back and her face in the coverlet. Finally, she passed out.

 

 

Alex knew he was missing a critical piece of the puzzle. Something was off.

Just as he arrived at his office, his cell buzzed. He glanced, expecting Leah, but found Deke’s name on the display. “Deke.”

“Preliminary DNA on the warehouse victim has arrived.”

“Fast work.”

“The body in the warehouse is a match to the hands and feet found by the river.”

“Brian Lawrence.” He shook his head, processing. “What the hell was he doing with Deidre’s card? Did he find out what she’d done for Latimer? Was he bribing her?”

“I don’t know. He was deployed when Latimer supposedly died. However, when his grandmother died a couple of years ago, Brian was back in Nashville, and he inherited all her belongings.”

Alex’s nerves tightened and twisted. “None of this feels right. How the hell does Lawrence fit into this mix?”

“I’ve got officers in his house right now, going through everything. I want anything that has to do with Latimer.”

Alex rested his hand on his hip. “Latimer stabbed Leah twenty-three times. Clearly, he was driven by rage and desperation when he stabbed her.”

“Okay.”

“And he stabbed Deidre twenty-three times like Leah,” Alex said.

“Right.”

“He left plenty of DNA around when he stabbed Leah. But he left none when he killed Deidre.”

“He’s getting smarter?” Deke said.

“I listened to Leah’s nine-one-one call four years ago. She told the cops it was Latimer. I didn’t hear anything on the tape that suggested he was worried about discovery. He didn’t care who knew he was killing his wife. Then he goes dark for four years. And when he returns, he goes to great lengths to cover up a connection to Deidre’s death.” Alex tapped his index finger against his belt. “And why stab Deidre? If his aim was to kill her, there are more efficient ways.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I’d swear we’re dealing with two different assailants.”

 

 

When Leah regained consciousness, Radcliff was wearing a Tyvek suit and goggles. He had turned her over and she was able to take a full breath of oxygen, vaguely aware of cold metal clinking against her wrists. He’d secured her wrists behind her back. As her eyes drifted open, he was little more than a hazy monster. Not the one she’d feared for so many years but a new one, just as evil and just as dangerous.

“Why?” she whispered. “Why?”

He shook his head. “It was never about you, Leah. It was always about Deidre. Since the day I found out she was cheating on me, I wanted to kill her. I dreamed about killing her. Hell, I could barely sleep with the hate pounding in my head.” He shook his head. “But killing is easy. Getting away with it is another story. I’d have been the first guy the cops would have arrested.”

Fear rippled through her.

“Deidre told me about Philip. He helped her get that lame sister of hers out of jail. And when he needed to get out of Nashville, she helped him. You didn’t get justice because of her.”

She’d always wondered how he’d escaped. “Is Philip dead?”

A smile tweaked his lips. “He’s dead. Died in South Carolina, just like the reports said. And that suited me just fine. The more I thought about old dead Philip, the more I realized he was the perfect man to frame. The perfect man to kill Deidre and you.”

“That was you with Gail.”

“It’s been me all along.” He traced a gloved finger along her cheek. “It didn’t take a lot of work to dig into Philip’s past. Found his cousin right here in Nashville. He took all Philip’s belongings when their grandmother died. There was a computer that had belonged to the grandmother, with so many pictures of you from Philip’s stalking days. And then I found his ring. The ring that helped identify his body. Almost too easy.”

“I didn’t know he had a cousin.”

“He’s dead now, so it really doesn’t matter.”

She recoiled. “Brian Lawrence.”

“Very smart. Yes. I killed Brian and slipped into his shoes when it was convenient.” He took a handful of her hair and curled it around his finger. “I started texting Deidre from a burner phone.
Philip
told her he wasn’t dead. Said he needed money and would ruin her career if she didn’t help.”

Leah scrambled through her memories of Deidre. “Deidre sought me out.”

“Philip told her that he wanted her to text him pictures of you. And Deidre got herself a burner and started sending him pictures.” He shook his head. “But she wasn’t one to lie down and take it. She was planning to kill Philip when he finally faced her. If he were really dead, she’d be in the clear. But she wasn’t expecting me.”

“Sins of the past. That’s what Deidre said.”

“Yes.”

“Who planted the listening devices?”

“I did. Used Deidre’s credit card to buy them. As you know by now, I’m good at skimming credit cards.” He nodded his head.

“You did that?”

“And I let the air out of your tires. Did all kinds of annoying things, just like Philip would have.” He grinned, pleased with himself. “I listened as she buddied up to you. She wasn’t your friend, you know. She was using you.”

Deidre had used her. Yet that last morning at the track had been a real moment. Deidre knew Tyler was dangerous, and she’d said she could handle him. As the image of Deidre, bleeding and slashed, flashed in her mind, she couldn’t summon anger.

Tyler reached in the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small box. The back hinge creaked as he opened the top. Inside was her wedding band, which she’d left at the apartment she’d shared with Philip. “We can thank Brian for being a pack rat.” He moved behind her and bent down as he took her left hand in his. She fisted her fingers, but he easily peeled them back. She winced in pain as he shoved the ring on her finger.

The ring felt tight. “You don’t have to kill me. You don’t. There’s nothing between us.”

“Your death will keep me out of jail. You’re going to be killed by your husband, who’s risen from the dead. He killed Deidre, your friend and a threat to his freedom, just like he tried to kill you. Killing you is my perfect alibi.” From another pocket, he pulled out a knife and traced it between her breasts. “Happy Anniversary, Leah.”

She didn’t speak as tears choked her throat. She remembered the last time those words had been whispered to her at knifepoint.

He cupped her face with rough, callused hands, holding her chin just a little too tight in his grip. “Deidre didn’t understand the meaning of our wedding vows. I meant it when I said until death do us part. Did you mean it when you said your vows?”

“I did. I did mean them.”

“Then why did you break them?”

“I never broke my vows.”

“You left your husband.”

“Because he hurt me.” She tugged hard against the cuffs. “He betrayed me when he hit me!”

“There was never another man?”

“No.”

“There’s Alex Morgan.”

She stilled at the sound of Alex’s name. “Alex has nothing to do with this.”

“Of course he does. Do you think Philip would let him live after what you two did last night?”

“He’s not part of this.”

“Where’s your cell phone?”

She didn’t speak, accepting that she would die protecting Alex.

“Tell me, or you’ll watch me slice parts off of Gail and Charlie, bit by bit.” He closed his eyes. “The sound of a dog howling in pain is just awful. Pitiful.”