Love you to Death (24 page)

What the hell had it been sewn to?

The whole case left a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure which of the cases stacked in front of him, if any, were connected to his Jane Doe. What he was sure of was that whoever was doing this wasn’t going to stop unless someone made him.

Ed was going to be that man.

Gloria had no choice but to go grocery shopping. She hadn’t stocked the cupboards since she moved, and her kitchen was empty. There wasn’t a single piece of fruit or slice of bread to be had. Peanut butter on a spoon had been both breakfast and lunch, but she couldn’t stomach the thought of making it dinner, too.

She grabbed a bright red shopping basket and headed for the produce section. Standing in front of a display of zucchini was a man she was sure she’d seen before. She couldn’t place him, but she’d been on high alert since the incident on campus, and she wasn’t trusting anyone right now.

She veered right, making a clear path around him when he looked up and caught her eye. He had a puzzled look on his face and a spindly zucchini in his hand.

“Excuse me,” he said to her, “but could you help me?”

Her body went tense with suspicion, and she took a half step away from him. “Um, I’m kinda in a hurry.”

His tone was deep with disappointment. “That’s okay. I’m sure someone else will be by in a minute.”

She let out an almost inaudible sigh, feeling like a loser for not helping him when she was in the middle of a brightly lit store full of people. “What do you need?”

“Is this squash?” he asked.

“It’s one kind. What kind are you looking for?”

His brows drew together in puzzlement. “I don’t know. The recipe just said squash. My mother is on a strict diet since her heart surgery, and I wanted to cook her something, but I guess it’s not as easy as it looks.”

Now Gloria felt like a total bitch. Here he was, trying to take care of his sick mom, and she was treating him like Jack the Ripper.

She stepped closer and offered him a sympathetic smile. “That’s so sweet. I’m sure she’ll love whatever you make.” She picked up a yellow squash and handed it to him. “Try this one. Mix it with the zucchini, and you’ll be set.”

“Thank you,” he told her, sacking the vegetables.

“No, thank you. It’s good to know there are still nice guys left in the world. Lately, I’ve begun to wonder.”

His smile widened, deepening into a more seductive grin. He took a small step toward her, letting her know he was interested. “I don’t suppose you’d like to go out with the last remaining nice guy, would you?”

She hesitated for a moment. The last thing she needed was another Ken in her life, but she missed dating—missed being with someone. Maybe not this guy, but someone.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked.

“You look familiar, but no, sorry. I don’t.”

“I work at your bank. You changed your address the other day.”

“Right. I remember now.”

“So, what about it? Do you think you could go out with a stuffy banker?”

“I’m really not interested in dating right now. Sorry.”

He reached into his pocket and took out his business card. “Here’s my number in case you change your mind.”

He placed his card in her hand, and his fingers grazed hers. They were oddly cold, like he’d been holding those chilled veggies for too long.

Gloria tucked his card into her pocket. “I’m sure I’ll see you around,” she said and left him to finish her shopping.

It only took her fifteen minutes to grab enough food for the week, and she had just loaded it into the trunk of her car when she noticed her rear tire was flat. Totally flat.

Great. That was all she needed—being stuck changing a tire when she was sure some wacko was stalking her.

“Need some help?” came a man’s voice.

Gloria whirled around, her heart pounding in her throat, but it was just the guy from the bank.

She pressed her hand over her heart in an effort to slow it and gave him an embarrassed smile. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He nodded toward the tire. “Do you have a spare?”

She went to the trunk and moved her groceries aside to access the spare tire. “I think so,” she said. “I’ve never had to use it before.”

The banker stepped up behind her, and that feeling of eyes on the back of her neck slammed into her full force.

She whirled around to see who was watching, when a white cloth covered her nose and mouth, filling it with a vile stench.

She tried to scream, but all she managed to do was suck more of the awful vapor into her lungs.

Her legs went weak. The world around her shimmered, then wavered toward blackness. The last thing she saw was the banker open the back door of his car so he could shove her in—the same luxury car that had been following her on campus.

Gloria’s body hit the backseat, driving the breath from her lungs. Her cheek grazed the supple leather interior, and then she felt nothing.

Elise was up well before dawn, revising her list of people to interview today, when Trent shambled out of the bedroom and found her at his dining room table.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

His eyes were puffy from sleep, and he wore only a pair of low-riding pajama bottoms that left the rest of his body on glorious display.

She’d had him inside her only a few hours ago, but her body was heating and softening, aching for him again. The man was clearly addictive, and if she didn’t watch herself, she’d end up doing something stupid and fall for him.

The two of them would never work long-term. He had roots here, a family that needed him. She couldn’t see him giving all that up to travel around the world with her. Besides, what would he do with himself? How would he earn a living? She barely earned enough to support herself, much less two people.

And the idea of giving up her life to settle down felt more like a prison sentence than a future.

It was best if she kept things in proportion and remembered that while it was okay to enjoy him while she was here, that’s all she could do. As soon as she found Ashley, she’d move on, and so would he.

Yesterday, that idea wasn’t nearly as daunting as it was today. It had been difficult resisting him before, but now that she knew how good all those muscles felt under her fingertips and tongue, how perfectly they fit together, resisting him was nearly impossible.

She cleared her throat and pulled her eyes back to her laptop screen. “I slept for hours, thanks to your vigorous efforts to wear me down.”

He gave her a knowing grin. “You needed the rest.”

“I know. Thank you. It helped clear my head enough to figure out what I need to do next.”

“And what’s that?”

“First, I have to rent another car. Then, I’m going to talk to the detective who was assigned to Susan Maloney’s case and see if he has any possible leads. Maybe if he has some suspects in mind, the photo might give him some direction as to who to go after. I also need to talk to the press again today. Ashley’s story is losing weight, and I don’t want people to forget she’s still missing.”

“You’re not serious.” His tone was sharp with anger, making her look up at him again. His mouth was tight and his brows were drawn together in a scowl.

“Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were nearly killed yesterday.”

She’d been trying hard to forget. Thinking about those terrifying moments nearly froze her with panic, which wasn’t going to do Ashley any good. “That means I’m getting close. Susan Maloney is the key. If I can find out what happened to her, I’ll find Ashley.”

“What makes you so sure she’s the key?”

“Her mother recognized the man in the photo. She saw him the day Susan went missing.”

Trent let out a harsh, scoffing sound. “How could she be sure that was the same guy? The photo is horrible at best. It shows a white guy with at least one eye and one ear. A lot of people match that description. It doesn’t even give a clear idea of what color hair or eyes he has.”

“She was sure.” Elise was, too. She’d seen the woman’s reaction and knew it was real.

“The woman’s daughter is missing, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And they found her kid’s hand, but nothing else.”

“Right.”

“Was she acting lucid? Was she thinking clearly? Or was she crazy out of her mind with worry, grasping at any straws she could find? You went to her with your story of a missing sister, showed her a guy you think did it. Of course she’s going to think that’s the kidnapper. What did you think she was going to do?”

“She wasn’t making this up.”

“Maybe not intentionally, but people like her don’t make reliable witnesses. Surely you know that.”

“No. I don’t. She saw this guy, Trent. She saw him the day her child was abducted. That’s why she remembered him—he was etched into her mind.”

“You believe her because you want to, because you want to find a lead. I get that you feel out of control, and that you need to do something, but you can’t be sure that woman’s daughter has any connection to Ashley.”

“If I’m on the wrong track, then why did those guys come after me? They followed me from Mrs. Maloney’s house.”

“My guess is that they’d been following you since we left Sally’s. Someone there destroyed the video footage of Ashley coming in and leaving Friday, which means someone is covering this up. Whoever is doing that was one of the guys who went after you, or he was the one who ordered the hit. They would have followed you whether you went to that woman’s house or the freaking grocery store.”

“You weren’t there, Trent. You didn’t see the look of horror on this woman’s face when she saw the photo. I’m sure she recognized him.”

Trent rubbed a hand over his short hair. “You could put fifty guys in a room and every one of them would look similar to the man in that photo. You’re fooling yourself if you think otherwise. I’ve seen lineups in action. I’ve seen witnesses pick cops that were planted in the lineup, claiming they were the ones who raped them. Emotional people make horrible witnesses.”

Mrs. Maloney had definitely been emotional. Maybe Trent knew what he was talking about, but Elise couldn’t take that chance. “What if you’re wrong?”

He pulled out a chair and sat down next to her. His eyes caught and held her gaze, and the sympathy she saw there made her chest ache. He took her hands in his and his thumbs trailed over her skin in a caress as gentle as his voice. “What if I
am
wrong? What if visiting this girl’s mother is the thing that caused those men to try to kill you? Would it be so bad to let it drop?”

“If it means not finding Ashley, then yes.”

“You’re willing to risk your life on a guess?”

It was more than a guess. It was a feeling. An instinct. “Absolutely.”

“I won’t let you.”

Shocked outrage rocketed through Elise. She jerked her hands from his and forced herself not to scream the words. “You don’t have any say in this.”

“Last night gave me the right to have an opinion.”

“It gave you the right to an opinion about what sexual positions you like, what brand of condoms to use, about whether you sleep on the right or left side of the bed. It didn’t give you any right to tell me what to do.”

“Someone needs to stop you from getting yourself killed.”

She shut her laptop and stood from the chair. “I’m sick of people telling me how dangerous this is. I understand that investigating my sister’s abduction is not the safest thing I can do, but it’s the
only
thing I can do. I can’t leave her out there alone, waiting to see what will happen. If you want to act like my mother and keep me under your thumb, then I’ll find another place to stay.”

Elise turned to leave, but Trent stopped her, wrapping a hand around her arm. “If you leave, those guys will find you again, and this time, they’ll succeed in killing you. Who will help Ashley then?”

“I’m not backing down, Trent. If you have a better idea of how to go about finding Ashley, I’ll listen, but I won’t give up on her.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to be careful—let the police handle the dangerous stuff. Maybe those guys only meant to warn you to back off, but it could have been more than that. They could have been sent to kill you.”

“Why? Wouldn’t that only create more buzz, attract more attention? Not only is my sister missing, but I end up dead. That’s going to turn a lot of heads and make people ask a lot of questions.”

“Not if you die in a car accident. It would be easy enough to say you were overwrought with emotion or fatigue and lost control of your vehicle.”

She hadn’t thought about that angle. She hadn’t let herself think about the car chase at all, but it made sense. “They’d make it look like an accident so no one would ask questions.”

He nodded. “The fact that you got away to tell the tale will either back them off, or make them more desperate to finish the job before you tell too many people what happened. Either way, there’s more going on here than one missing girl. Maybe Ashley found herself a boyfriend who’s in the Mob. It would explain why thugs were chasing you.”