Profile of Fear: Book Four of the Profile Series (Volume 4) (11 page)

Back at her table, it wasn’t long before Edie returned with a chilled glass of wine that she set before Melanie. “A guy at the bar sends this glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. Turn around, he’s looking this way.”

A handsome man at the bar smiled and waved at her, and her heart skipped a beat. With a diamond stud in his left ear, he had a few days growth on his lean jaw. His facial features were sharp and angled, his eyes so dark, they almost appeared black. He was one of those men whose shaved head made him look dark, dangerous, and sexy as hell.

A hot blush crept over her neck and face, and the temperature in the room went up a couple of degrees.

She turned to Edie. “I haven’t seen him in here before. Do you know him?”

“Can’t say I do. He’s Mr. Hotness, isn’t he? No cheapskate either. This glass of wine is from the Ravenna Family Vineyard. 2009. A good year.”

“Really?”

“I say you go for it, Melanie. What have you got to lose?” Patting Melanie affectionately on the arm, Edie returned to the bar.

Sipping her wine, Melanie looked back and noted that Mr. Hotness was moving toward her. He was tall, over six feet with a slender build, dressed in dark designer jeans with a body-hugging, gunmetal-gray silk T-shirt, topped by a lightweight navy Armani blazer. She might not have money, but she knew her fashion. He moved toward her with a slow, seductive walk. Clutched in one hand was his glass of wine; in the other, a bottle.

“May I join you?”

“Y-Yes,” she stuttered, her heart in her throat.

When he sat down, she nervously lifted her glass. “Thank you for the wine. It’s delicious.”

He held out his hand as if to shake hers. But when she extended her own, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it, looking intently into her eyes. She nearly swooned. He was just like one of the heroes in her romance novels. “I’m Paul Richmond. I’m new in town and you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen since my arrival.”

The line was probably older than she was, but she blushed. It had been an eternity since she dared to be this close to a man. Especially a man who gave her a second look. Not since Eddie Reynolds in high school.

“I’m Melanie Barrett.”

“Melanie is a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

He was laying it on thick, but she lapped it up like a kitten with a saucer of milk. It was hard for Melanie to hope when her hopes had been dashed so ruthlessly in the past. Clinging to the possibility he was a good man, she prayed he was genuinely attracted to her. That maybe she could have a happily ever after.

“That’s nice of you to say. What brings you to Shawnee County?”

Juan sipped his wine and said, “I own eight Mexican restaurants in the Midwest, Last Stop Cantina. Three are in Indiana, in Indianapolis, Lafayette, and Bloomington. I want to build one near Morel.”

She nearly choked on her sip of wine. He was not only devastatingly handsome, but successful, too. “That must keep you busy.”

“I travel a lot, but I’m not complaining. It comes with the territory.” He reached across the table and stroked her hand with his index finger. “Enough about me. Tell me about yourself, Melanie Barrett.”

He was a man who could have any woman in the room, but he’d chosen her. He actually wanted to get to know her. Melanie was beyond flattered.

“I’ve lived in Morel for about six years. Moved here from Lafayette. Graduated from Purdue.”

“Job?”

Melanie hesitated. Didn’t see that one coming. What could she say about her job that wouldn’t turn him off? Her job was stressful and punishing, putting her on the lower rung of the pay scale. Nothing glamorous about what she did for a living. What man would want to hear about endless days and nights witnessing horrific child abuse, able only to Band-Aid situations that could have a very bad ending?

“Not much to tell.”

“What do you do?”

She wasn’t going to lie to him. “I’m a social worker with Child Protective Services.”

“Seriously?” Paul asked, leaning forward. “That’s what I wanted to do. But my mother had other ideas. She made me change my major from social work to business.”

“You wanted to work in Child Protective Services?”

“Damn right. Anyone who works in CPS is a hero to me. Protecting kids. It doesn’t get any more important than that. That said, I bet you see a lot of things you’d rather not.”

“That’s an understatement.” She couldn’t believe her ears. Who would have guessed this desirable man would be interested in her work? “But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.”

“Actually, I do. Now that my businesses are up and running, I could go back to college and become a social worker, like you.”

“You’d do that?”

“I’d seriously consider it. Now tell me about your job.” Paul refilled her glass.

Melanie took a sip of her wine. “For the most part, I make home visits to investigate allegations of abuse or neglect. And usually, the allegations are warranted.”

“Tell me about a home visit you’ve made recently.”

The conversation was moving into a danger zone for Melanie. She’d be fired if anyone found out she was violating the privacy of her clients. But he was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. Not wanting to disappoint him, she reasoned it would be okay as long as she talked in general terms and mentioned no names. “Not long ago, I made a home visit as a result of an anonymous tip from the Child Abuse Hotline. When I got to the house, I found three children there living in filth, the smell alone was vile. Their toilet was broken so they had nowhere but the backyard to go to the bathroom. Their mother was an alcoholic who beat them on a regular basis. They had the bruises to prove it.”

“What a bitch.”

“My thought exactly. And get this. The mother had her children returned to her by a soft judge who believes kids need to be with their mother, no matter what.”

“Sick.”

“It happens more times than you would think.”

“What happened with the kids?”

“There were no relatives to take them, so I had to split them up and put them in three separate foster homes. It broke my heart, but what else could I do?”

“The mother? What happened with her?”

“She was arrested for assault and a long list of other charges, including child neglect. She punched me in the mouth and went at me with a kitchen knife. She’s still in lock-up because she can’t make her bail.”

“Maybe the kids will find better parents and have a better life.”

Melanie just nodded. She did not tell him that thanks to their mother the kids were not adoptable and would probably be bounced from foster home to foster home until they reached eighteen.

Paul urged her to tell more stories about her work, but she refused. She was off work and she certainly wasn’t in the mood to tell war stories with a handsome stranger.

“Let’s change the subject and talk about something more pleasant.”

He finished his wine, and smiled. “You’re right. Let’s talk about what you like to do in your spare time.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Do you like to go on picnics?”

“I haven’t been on a picnic since I was a teenager.” What a romantic idea. She liked this guy. Everything about him.

“Join me for a picnic on Sunday. I’ll pick you up.”

Melanie wrote her home address on the back of one of her business cards and pushed it across the table. “Sounds lovely. What should I bring?”

“Let me worry about the food and wine. It would be my pleasure.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Several hours had passed and Diego was getting tired of waiting in the car. He was tempted to go inside the wine bar to see what Juan was doing, but that would be asking for trouble. It would piss Juan off in 2.5 seconds and who knows what the maniac would do?

Just then Juan appeared, hopping into the car.

“Let’s go. Hurry. I don’t want her to see us together. She’ll be coming out of the bar anytime.”

Diego shoved the gear into drive and sped down the street; he saw Melanie Barrett coming out of the bar onto the sidewalk in his rearview mirror.

Juan buckled his seatbelt and appeared very pleased with himself.

“What happened?” asked Diego. “Did she tell you where your kid is?”

“Not yet. I see her again on Sunday. She will tell me then. You can bet on it.”

“Do you need me to drive?”

“Now what kind of a romantic picnic would it be if I dragged you along? No, I don’t need you. I want to handle this myself.”

Diego sighed with relief for himself, but at the same time felt the chill of fear for Melanie Barrett.

Chapter Twenty-three

Thanks to a summer rain the day before, the air had cooled down to the sunny seventies. Perfect day for a picnic. It seemed like they’d driven U.S. Route 136 forever when Paul finally pulled off the road and parked near a thicket of woods. Leaning toward Melanie, he kissed her cheek softly, gazing into her eyes.

Wearing a brand-new blue sundress and matching sandals, Melanie worried. “I didn’t know we’d be hiking or I would have worn something more suitable.”

Paul smiled at her as he stroked her hair. “I love what you’re wearing. No need to be concerned. There is a stream not far from here, surrounded by a grassy area. It’s perfect for our picnic. The walk is worth it. You’ll see. Besides, I came out here yesterday and cleared a path for us.”

Melanie squeezed his hand. “That was so thoughtful of you.” She may have found her perfect man. He was considerate, intelligent, interesting, wealthy, and drop-dead sexy. What more could she want? She’d spent the previous day shopping, with a quick stop at a hairdresser to shape her lifeless locks. Paul Richmond had never been far from her thoughts. In fact, he was all she could think about.

She watched him as he circled back to the trunk of the car. Wearing faded snug jeans and a pale blue Ralph Lauren shirt rolled up to the elbows, he looked handsome and dashing and she wanted him. A distinct warmth flooded the area between her legs. Was it too soon to let him make love to her?

He lay a picnic basket and a blanket on the ground, and then rushed to her side of the car to open her door. Gallantly extending his hand, he helped her out of the vehicle. “You steal my breath away, Melanie. You’re beautiful.” Pulling her into his strong arms, he chastely kissed her cheek again. Throwing the blanket over his shoulder, he held the picnic basket in one hand and her hand in the other. He led her up the road until they came to a freshly cut path in the tall grasses at a curve in the road. When they came to a drainage ditch, he asked her to wait. He leaped over the ditch and planted the blanket and basket on the ground, and then returned to her. Lifting her in his arms, she giggled as he carried her over the waterway. “I don’t want my princess to soil her clothing.”

Melanie had never met a man so romantic. Visions of having wild sex with him had her head spinning. Where had he been all her life? He was almost too good to be true.

They walked until Paul stopped and pointed to a huge oak tree. “I wanted that to be our picnic spot—in the cool shade of the tree.”

“It’s great.”

“I changed my mind when I saw there was a wasp nest in the tree.”

Melanie searched the tree until her eyes landed on a honeycombed, papery bag hanging on a branch. “Good decision.”

It wasn’t long until they reached a grassy clearing near a brook of cascading water, where Paul lay the blanket and picnic basket down. With the sweet smell of honeysuckle and a cool breeze embracing her bare shoulders, she admired a patch of yellow wood sorrel with its pretty flowers and clover-like leaves. Paul was right. This was the perfect place for a picnic.

She sat on the blanket, removed her sandals, and watched Paul unpack the basket.

He pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. “I brought a nice Zinfandel for you to try, some stout craft beer for myself. I remembered you said you didn’t like the taste of beer.” Filling a glass, he handed it to her and talked as he brought out their lunch. “Prosciutto-wrapped chicken with asparagus, an antipasto pasta salad, a wedge of Brie cheese with Red Delicious apple slices, and for dessert—strawberries dipped in milk chocolate. Sound good?”

“Better than good.” She nearly purred when he put a sliver of Brie onto an apple slice and fed it to her. The Brie and wine were delicious. This man was a keeper.

Sampling a bite of the chicken, she moaned with pleasure and then held her plate as he filled it with Prosciutto-wrapped chicken, asparagus, antipasto pasta salad, brie cheese and apple slices. Famished, they ate in silence, and he refilled her wine glass. When they finished, he wrapped the soiled plates in plastic, put them back into the basket, and then lifted the bottle to refresh her glass of wine.

Relaxing on the blanket, Paul gazed at her thoughtfully. “I thought a lot about what you told me about your work on Friday night. I’d like to hear more. It will help me decide if I want to go back to school. Be a social worker.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Tell me about the kids you’ve helped recently. What did you do for them?

Melanie was flattered by his interest in her job and impressed he would consider such a life change for himself. Helping others. More proof he was a good guy, that he might be the one.

“I had a teenaged boy who’d run away from his second group home in a month. Had a hard time placing him, but finally a couple who owns a farm not far from town took him in. Last I checked, he was okay and seemed to be adjusting to his new surroundings. Maybe it will work out for him. I hope so.”

“Do you mainly work with teenagers? Any younger children?”

“He’s still in the hospital, but when he’s released I will be placing a nine-month-old baby in another home. His mother’s new boyfriend said he rolled off a changing table onto the floor, but there were too many injuries and bruising to his body for that to be true. The police arrested both the mother and the boyfriend, and the judge ordered the baby to foster care.”

“Must be tough working a case like that.”

“All I can do is hope for a happy ending.”