Skin Tight (25 page)

Jesus.
It didn’t bear consideration. Kyra would rip the guy’s arms off and feed them to him. Mia could offer to do his taxes with hella-good deductions.

“So, you think it’s a robbery gone wrong?”

“Looks that way. I don’t have any other questions for you right now, Ms. Sauter. If you’d like to go, you can leave your name and contact information. If we have more follow-up, I’ll get in touch.”

She thought about Kelly’s family—her mom and dad, those four brothers she’d talked about. Jay, Vince, Brant, and Lyle. “Who calls the family in these cases?”

“Generally, the sheriff finds out where the family lives and then informs local police. It’s not the kind of news you want to give over the phone.”

“I guess not.” Except once Kelly’s parents knew, they’d have to call her brothers. Mia felt sick. “Yeah, I think I will go home. Thanks.”

She slid out of the squad car and headed for her Focus. It took a couple of minutes before she could even start it. Eventually, she started the engine and maneuvered around the deputy’s vehicle. He waved as she went by.

Fiddling with the radio gave her something else to think about other than how doomed her situation was. Mia knew what had happened to Kelly was no accident. They might’ve made it look like a burglary gone bad, but she didn’t believe in coincidences of that magnitude. Just a few days ago, she and Kelly had been talking about Micor here at the house. She’d guessed the facility wasn’t safe, but how could she have ever imagined they’d go this far? Invade Kelly’s privacy so completely? Dammit, she didn’t have the mentality for cloak-and-dagger shit.

Mia didn’t want to go back to the condo; the killer could be waiting for her. But she needed her stuff. She couldn’t afford to let her laptop fall into the wrong hands, or she’d have the police after her, too. There would be traces of the accounts she’d hacked searching for the embezzler. And who was going to look after the damned cat? Maybe she could impose on one of the neighbors. She drove, trying to work out a strategy in her head.

No question, she was done at Micor. She had to run. Maybe Kyra could help; she knew all about staying one step ahead of people who wanted to kill her. Once she reached the condo, she scanned the parking lot as she remembered Søren doing in Vegas. Everything appeared quiet.

Mia hopped out of the car and dashed for the building.

Though she heard nothing, someone leapt on her from behind, pushing her into the pavement. A knife pricked her throat, and blood trickled downward. She froze. The attacker stank of stale sweat with an acrid chemical undertone, a stink she’d remember forever.

The voices of people exiting the structure gave her hope he wouldn’t kill her right here. “Hey, what’re you doing, pal? Get off her! I’m calling the cops.”

Mia tried to speak, but before she could get the words out, the man slammed her head into the cement. Pain exploded through her skull.

 

 

He told himself he wasn’t worried. Maybe, despite being in an unfamiliar town, she’d made friends at work and they’d gone out for a drink. Just because she’d been home the other times he stopped by, it didn’t obligate her always to be there.

His agitation increased as the time ticked on. Søren slid out of his car and went up to knock again. Maybe she’d parked somewhere else or switched vehicles for some reason. Maybe she’d arrive shortly. There was no reason to fear for her, despite her involvement in his business.

And then, coming down the walk, he saw her.

Blood had dried on her neck, and there was an enormous knot on her forehead. She moved with the careful pace of someone pretending not to be drunk . . . or injured. He sprinted toward her—and it nearly did him in when she flinched, her eyes taking too long to focus in the light outside her front door.

A couple trailed behind her. “Are you okay? Should I call the cops?”

The female half of the pair didn’t seem too eager to get involved. “We have reservations,” she mouthed at her boyfriend or husband, whatever he was.

“No, it’s all right. I’ve got her.”

Søren led her to the door by the hand, ignoring the onlookers. To his relief, Mia didn’t question his presence, but she stood in front of the condo door looking smaller than usual. Her blouse was ripped on the elbow. Beneath the golden skin, she looked pale, fighting a profound reaction to whatever had happened.

“I’ll follow you in. Try not to worry.”

Her fingers trembled when she attempted to unlock the door. It took her three tries to get them into the condo.

Instinct took over then. “Wait here. I’ll check things out.” Søren prowled through the flat, wishing she set tells like he did. From what he could see, the place was untouched. “Does anything look like it’s been moved, Mia?”

“I don’t think so.” She stood like an automaton, reinforcing his fear she was in shock.

But he knew she wouldn’t be content until they got her things, and she was in shape to pack, so he helped her silently. Then he put the kettle on, intending to get some tea in her, lots of sugar this time, no sweetener. She let him put his hands on her, tilting her face toward the light.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened?”

“A man attacked me.”

“Talk to me, princess. Give me more.”

“Kelly, a woman I know from work, has been killed.” Tonelessly, she gave him a summary of what had happened—and why.

Jesus.
Her cover had been compromised. Søren tried to tell himself it wasn’t the dumbest thing she could’ve done. She had no reason to suspect they were dealing with a monstrous enemy, one that didn’t balk at total infringement of civil rights. They didn’t even hesitate at murder.
Christ, I should’ve warned her. She doesn’t know these things by heart, like I do. Ordinary people don’t assume their homes might be violated. They don’t assume they’re being hunted.

In his world, ordinary people didn’t live long.

“Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll keep watch for you and make something to eat. Then we need to get you packed.”

Now wasn’t the time to burden her with his issues or worry her further. Søren knew it would be smarter to tear out of here right now, but he needed her strong and centered. If she went with him, he’d eventually have to tell her more. She was too clever for it to be otherwise. But for now, the bare minimum would suffice.

The Foundation had already tried once tonight and failed. If he had been in the parking lot, he might’ve ended the guy right then, but that would’ve caused a rift between Mia and him. He knew she couldn’t watch him kill and look at him the same way thereafter. But he couldn’t think about that, either.

Having failed once, the killer would fall back and plan a new strategy, so he had to assume someone was watching the place. They’d have to give the surveillance the slip. No problem—he knew how.

At least she seemed to register him as a person. “Søren. What’re you doing here?”

He managed a smile. “Taking care of you, if you’ll let me. Have you eaten?”

That wasn’t why he’d come, of course. But he was glad to be here for her. Tenderness suffused him at the idea she might need him a little.

“I could make mac and cheese,” she said in a small voice.

Blue box, Kraft dinner.
You didn’t have a kid without learning to make it. It would be painful, but he remembered how. He hadn’t eaten the stuff since the accident, but he could do this much for Mia.
Small sacrifice.

“I’ll take care of it. Warm shower. Be careful with your head, and take something for the pain. You’re not experiencing any dizziness or nausea, are you?”

“No. Just . . .”

“What?”

The words came in a rush. “I’m scared.”

His heart ached. God, he was so backward that he didn’t realize she needed a hug. Once, he’d been pretty good at this sort of thing, but he was out of practice. Søren reached for her, moving slowly so she could step away if she wanted to. Apparently, she didn’t. As his arms went around her, he warmed inside in ways he hadn’t known for years.

“I’m here,” he said softly. “And you’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

She shuddered. With careful hands, he took her hair down and rubbed the tension at the base of her skull until she melted against him. Her hands fluttered at his waist, tentative regarding their welcome.
Don’t you know,
he wanted to say.
You can touch me anywhere.

They stood like that for countless minutes, until at last she stepped back. “Better. I’ll have that shower if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He watched her go, beautiful in her vulnerability.

Giving himself a mental shake, he set the tea to steeping and put on a pot of water for the macaroni and cheese. She had American singles to make it extra-rich, so he got out four of those. It hurt to work like this in the kitchen, as it reminded him of happier days, but it wasn’t an unwelcome pain. At least there was no guilt attached to it.

Mia came down the hall as he set the table. With her dark hair brushed away from her brow, the knot looked worse than it had before. His hands curled into fists. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to kill whoever had hurt her. And it wouldn’t be quick, though that was his preferred MO. Søren hoped the guy would try again. His mouth curved into a tight smile.

She paused beside her white ceramic bowl, piled high with orange macaroni. “The melted cheese is a nice touch.”

“Thanks.” He took a deep breath, surprised to find it didn’t feel like razors in his chest. “Lexie liked it that way.”

A whole sentence, past tense.
And it didn’t kill him.

Despite her physical pain, he saw awareness flash in her dark eyes, but she kept her tone conversational. “Smart kid.”

“Yeah,” he said thickly.

Søren could’ve told her how Lexie could read by the time she was four, or how she was always cracking jokes, or how she’d loved sci-fi movies. He didn’t.
One step at a time.

Without further ado, Mia dug into her food, and he watched her put away half the bowl before he remembered to eat. That would’ve been bad, if he’d used his ability more than a little today. Fortunately, maintaining an existing illusion used less energy than creating a new one.

“This is good. Thank you.” She scraped the bowl with her spoon, and he got up to refill it. That, she ate a little slower. “So why are you here, really?”

“To apologize.”

Surprise flickered. “For what?” she asked, wary.

“There’s no simple way to answer that. But in short, I’m sorry that I lost sight of the fact that other people matter. I’m sorry I used you and then acted like you’re nothing to me.”

“You’re sorry you’ve become a cold, inhuman monster.” Søren managed not to flinch at hearing it put that way. “Yes, near enough.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely true,” she said softly.

It was,
he thought.
Until I met you. Until you reminded me.

“I don’t know what I am, only what I must do. But there’s room in the master plan for other goals as well.”

“Like seeking justice for that poor woman in the morgue.”

He finished his food. “Like that.”

“I think I know who she is, by the way, if not what happened to her.”

Søren bit back the urge to ask
how
instead of “Who is she?”

“I’m pretty sure her name is Noreen Daniels. She was Kelly’s predecessor.”

“They should make sure their employees are all greedy, lazy, and venal.”

“Tell me you didn’t hire them. That you didn’t set them up, hoping they would prove useful to you.”

“I didn’t,” he said.

But not out of innocence, out of lack of opportunity. They had been hired before he took over as HR director. He could tell by Mia’s expression that she knew.

“Small favors. I think we should call the hospital and give them a nudge toward Noreen. I would be willing to bet her dental records will match our Jane Doe.”

“We will,” he assured her. “A pay phone will be best, one without traffic cameras on the corner.”

“You’re the expert.”

Søren changed the subject, not wanting to give her an opening to dig deeper into his past. “You got that right. They think you’re investigating the experiments, Mia. They killed your friend. You
can’t
go back.”

“I know that,” she said quietly. “You think I’m stupid? I’m naïve in some ways, maybe, but I understand my position. I wish a thousand times I’d shut Kelly up the night we had dinner at her house, but it never occurred to me . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Well, she paid, didn’t she? She didn’t know the stakes, and she paid, and by this time tomorrow, her family will receive a knock at the door. It could’ve been me. Should’ve been. I don’t have anyone to miss me, at least.”

He experienced a shock of primitive rage.
Not Mia.
He’d destroy anyone who hurt her, break the bastard bit by bit, and leave him begging for death.

His words came out in a low rumble. “That’s not true.” “Are you talking about Kyra?”

“No,” he growled.

“So you’d miss me?”

“We’re not doing this now.”

“Should I book an appointment?”

“For Christ’s sake, Mia, it’s not just you. They’re about to discover me, too.” Quickly, he filled her in on how they’d requested him to give more blood. “They suspect I’m not who I claim to be. If I say no, it confirms it. If I say yes . . .”

“You’re still screwed.” She exhaled. “I’m sorry you got so close and couldn’t clear the final hurdle.”

He shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter. “As long as I’m alive, there’s hope. For now, the important thing is seeing you safe. Once you’re settled, I can always circle back under a new name. I can do some more digging. It’s not the end, just a delay, and I am a patient man.”