The Agent's Redemption (Special Agents At The Altar 4) (9 page)

Then Alex laughed.

She jerked back and turned toward her son. “What’s so funny?”

“They’re going to feel stupid tomorrow that they didn’t believe me.”

Jared chuckled.

Rebecca was not amused about her life being made so public. She glanced at the windows, wondering if Smith or other reporters lurked out there. A shadow passed in front of the glass. “You need to leave,” she told Jared.

He shook his head. “After that I think it’s more important I stay.”

“You don’t have to chase a bad guy?” Alex asked.

“Not tonight,” Jared said. “My call was from another agent—letting me know about this
news
report.” A muscle twitched along his jaw.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t go chase bad guys tonight?” Rebecca asked with a meaningful stare, so that Jared would get the hint. She wanted him to leave.

But Jared was looking at the window, too, and reaching beneath his jacket.

She gasped. “Someone is out there?” She turned toward Alex. It wasn’t just her life made so public; his had been, too. And that put her son in whatever danger she was in.

Somebody is watching you...

She shivered. “Alex, you need to go to your room.”

He glanced up from his new toy. “Why—”

“Go.” Jared said just the one word. He didn’t shout it or say it with any particular emphasis. But Alex jumped up and rushed down the hall.

“You, too,” he told Rebecca as he withdrew his gun.

But she didn’t obey him like their son had. “This is my house...”

Jared ignored her as he moved quickly toward the door and jerked it open.

A scream caught in her throat as fear overwhelmed her. Jared hadn’t had to chase down the bad guy. He had found them. Her sister’s killer stood at her door.

Chapter Nine

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jared asked as he tightened his grip on his weapon.

Six years ago he’d thought Becca was wrong about this man. Jared hadn’t believed Harris Mowery had murdered her sister. But he still hadn’t liked the guy.

“You contacted me, Agent Bell,” Mowery replied. He wore the same smug grin that Kyle Smith always wore. Both men were narcissists—concerned only with themselves and incapable of empathy. Both of these men fit the profile for the Bride Butcher. “You want to talk to me.”

“At the Bureau office,” Jared said. “Or I would have come to you.” If he could have tracked down the man.

“Instead, I came to you.” Harris’s dark grin widened. He was all white teeth and shiny bald head. Even six years ago, his head had been shaved; he’d probably done it the moment his hair had begun to thin. He was the kind of man who would not tolerate imperfection—in himself or in others.

“How did you find me?” Jared asked. But he was more concerned that he’d found Becca and Alex.

“You’re news, Agent Bell.” He peered around Jared to where Becca was probably standing.

She should have left the room like their son had. Jared blocked the doorway with his body, refusing to let the uninvited guest past him.

“You’re both news, Rebecca,” her almost-brother-in-law addressed her. “Congratulations.”

She said nothing in return. She was probably either too angry or too scared to speak. She fully believed this man was a killer. Jared was definitely more suspicious of him than he’d previously been—especially after he’d worked up a more complete profile of the killer.

“That news report just ran,” Jared pointed out. “You wouldn’t have been able to get here so quickly unless...” Unless he’d been close. Unless he was the one watching Becca, as she’d been warned. But why would he have alerted her to his presence?

Just to toy with her? To scare her more?

“Kyle Smith called me,” Harris admitted, “gave me a little advance report.”

“You answered his call,” Jared remarked. “You two must be close.”

Harris sneered. “I’m not a fan of reporters. But Mr. Smith has proven to be most informative.”

Jared had already been angry with Kyle Smith for invading Becca’s privacy. Now he was furious and a curse slipped through his lips.

Harris chuckled. “He’s not a fan of yours, either. He suggested I sue you for slander.”

“I’ve never named you as a suspect,” Jared said.

Harris tilted his head, and despite the grin on his face, his dark eyes were hard with resentment. “But you’ve questioned me and made the media aware that you have.”

“Lexi was your fiancée.”

Harris nodded. “Yes, she was.”

But just like six years ago, the man wasn’t exactly mourning her loss. Not like Becca had mourned her and continued to mourn her.

Jared blamed himself for that—because he hadn’t given her closure.

“Have you reopened Alexandra’s case again?” Harris asked.

“Lexi,” Becca corrected him. Her voice was low but hard with hatred.

He ignored her, his focus on Jared now. “Is that why you left me a message that we needed to speak again?”

“I’ve never closed Lexi’s case,” Jared said.

Harris shrugged. “But you can’t have any new leads in a case that old. You don’t even have a body.” He snorted disdainfully.

And Jared’s fury built. He’d always understood why Becca hated this glib guy. He’d abused her sister. And instead of being upset or concerned when she’d gone missing, he’d been angry.

That anger was why Jared hadn’t suspected him, though. If the man had killed her himself—or even hired someone to do it—he wouldn’t have been furious that she was gone. He would have been happy.

Like he seemed now.

“I actually called to find out where you were the day Amy Wilcox went missing.” He gave the exact date and time that Amy had been taken, kicking and screaming, from that bridal boutique dressing room.

And Harris’s grin widened. “I was with Priscilla Stehouwer. We spent that weekend at a bed-and-breakfast in the country. I can give you her number.” He glanced down at the gun Jared still held. “If you have a free hand...”

Jared was reluctant to reholster his gun. He couldn’t risk Becca’s and Alex’s safety. Not if she was right about this man. “You can leave it on my voice mail,” he said. “I already left you my number to call me back.”

“Did you buy this alibi, too?” Becca asked him.

Now the man spared her a glance—one so hard and hateful that Jared tightened his grasp on his weapon. “Of course not. Priscilla is my fiancée,” he said.

Then maybe this alibi wouldn’t be as ironclad as his had been for Lexi’s disappearance. Jared definitely intended to question Priscilla Stehouwer. And maybe he would let it slip about those pictures they’d found in Lexi’s journal.

“But I shouldn’t need an alibi,” Harris said. “I didn’t even know Amy Wilcox.”

“Lexi says differently,” Becca said.

Harris looked at her again—with pity and disgust—as if he thought she was claiming to have had an actual conversation with her sister. “Alexandra is dead.”

Her body had never been found, but Harris seemed awfully damn certain of that. Because he knew where her body was buried? Or just because he’d heard all the reports—that she couldn’t have survived that much blood loss?

“She wrote it in her journal,” Becca explained. “She said that you met Amy Wilcox and you didn’t like her.”

Harris shrugged. “She wrote a lot of stuff in that journal that wasn’t true.”

And if Jared told the fiancée about those photos, Harris would undoubtedly take Kyle Smith’s advice and sue him for slander.

“It was the truth,” Becca said. “But I wouldn’t expect you to admit that—”

“Becca,” Jared cautioned her. He didn’t want her getting sued, either. Or worse...

He didn’t like Harris Mowery showing up at her door. He didn’t like it at all. “You need to leave,” he told the man, and he stepped forward to usher him out.

But Mowery didn’t step back. “So will you two be getting married now?”

Becca gasped, and Jared pushed, forcing the man backward. But still Harris persisted, “Since you have a son together, you should.”

Jared shoved him completely out the door.

But Harris yelled out, “And soon!”

Jared followed him out and pulled the door shut behind himself, so that Mowery couldn’t talk to Becca anymore. “What the hell are you up to?” he demanded to know.

Harris shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean, Agent Bell. Can’t I just want Alexandra’s sister to be happy?”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have showed up at her house, knowing the way she feels about you.” Jared narrowed his eyes in a hard stare. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Harris finally stepped back voluntarily from the front door and the illuminating glow of the porch light. He walked down the driveway toward his car and the darkness. “You already ruled me out as a suspect, Agent Bell,” he reminded him. “You said so yourself.”

Jared followed him and clarified. “That was in Lexi’s murder.” And maybe he’d done that too quickly. He intended to recheck that first alibi and definitely the one for Amy Wilcox’s murder.

“One serial killer murdered all those women,” Harris said. “That’s something else you’ve always stated—at least according to Kyle Smith.”

Damn Kyle Smith. That was someone else Jared intended to interrogate. Why the hell had the reporter given this man Becca and Alex’s address?

“You’re the one,” Jared repeated and then continued, “who’s been threatening Becca.”

“Someone’s been threatening Rebecca?” Harris sounded surprised, or maybe he was just a better actor than Jared had realized. “Why would someone do that? Unless...”

Jared waited—as the man wanted him to—in the dark as night began to fall.

Harris clicked the lock on his rental car and opened the driver’s door, spilling light onto the driveway. “Maybe you two are already engaged...?”

Jared shook his head. “I haven’t seen Becca in years.”

“She never told you she had your son?” Harris shook his head. “Maybe she’s more like her sister than I realized. Alexandra had her secrets, too.”

“Yes, she did,” Jared agreed. She should have told her family that Harris was abusing her. “Remember to text me your fiancée’s phone number.” He didn’t give a damn if the guy sued; he was going to warn the woman.

And the minute Harris drove away, Jared called back the protection duty he’d released when he’d arrived. He needed protection on Becca and Alex 24/7—even when he was around them. And still he worried that it might not be enough to keep them safe.

* * *

H
ER
HANDS
SHAKING
, Rebecca pulled the blankets over her sleeping son. He’d fallen asleep in his bed even though there’d been a killer in their house. He obviously felt so safe that he slept peacefully.

Rebecca would never feel safe again. She shivered and considered crawling into bed with her son—to hold him. But he didn’t need comfort. She needed comfort.

And a gun. The front door creaked open again, unsettling her. But instead of hiding in her son’s room, she hurried down the hall to the living room. Jared stood inside. Alone.

“Is he gone?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“But you can’t guarantee that he won’t come back,” she said. She couldn’t stay here. “Alex and I will have to leave.”

“I called back the protection detail,” he said. “You’ll be safe.”

She would feel safer if he stayed, too. But she’d already told him he couldn’t spend the night. “Alex fell asleep,” she told him.

He glanced down at the game their son had left on the floor. “He seemed so excited about his present.”

“He was. He is,” she assured him. “But he’s had a lot of excitement today. It must have exhausted him.” She glanced down at the gift Jared had chosen for their son. “Is that really a toy?”

“I didn’t steal it from the Bureau,” he said, his lips curving into a slight smile.

“Too bad,” she said. “If it was real, we could have hooked Harris up to it.” Just saying the man’s name brought back all her fear and anger and frustration. And as the emotions overwhelmed her, tears stung her eyes, and she began to tremble.

Instead of offering her the comfort he once had, Jared walked back toward the door. He was leaving?

Of course she’d told him he couldn’t stay, but that had been before her sister’s killer had paid her a visit—taunting her to get engaged. So he could kill her like he had Lexi, like he had all those other women.

Instead of opening the door, Jared turned the dead bolt. “The protection detail is out there,” he said. “But I’m still not leaving.”

She uttered a sigh—of relief. Then she was in his arms. She wasn’t sure which one of them had moved—him or her. But she clung to him.

One of his hands was on her back, holding her to him. The other was in her hair. He tipped her head back, and then his mouth covered hers. This was no tentative kiss. But even their first kiss hadn’t been tentative. It had been like this one—explosive: making her heart beat fast and erratically. Making her head light and her body heat and tingle.

Nobody had ever kissed her like Jared did—passionately, thoroughly. And nobody had ever made her feel like Jared did—passionate and desperate.

Desperate for his kisses. Desperate for his love. But she’d never had his love. And now she didn’t even have his kisses as he pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” he said between pants for breath. “I—I didn’t mean to do that...”

She was glad that he had. She’d been longing for his kiss since he’d first showed up at her house.

“I only meant to hold you,” he said, “to comfort you. But every time I touch you, I lose control.”

“That comforts me,” she said. To know she wasn’t the only one feeling that overwhelming attraction and desire. Especially now. After knowing what she’d kept from him—their son—he should have been disgusted with her.

Instead, his fingers stroked along her cheek, and he stared deeply into her eyes. “You are so beautiful...”

Lexi had been the beautiful one. The vivacious one. Rebecca had been the smart one. The hardworking one. But Jared made her feel beautiful; he had always made her feel beautiful—even when grief had ravaged her. He’d helped her find the beauty in life. Then he’d given her the most beautiful gift of all: Alex.

“You should hate me,” she said, “for keeping our son a secret from you.”

“I should,” he agreed, but his fingers continued to stroke along her cheek. Then his thumb moved across her lower lip—back and forth. “But I can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Me, too.” Then he replaced his thumb with his lips and kissed her again.

And again—until her knees weakened. Before her legs could buckle beneath her, he swung her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to her bedroom. He laid her on her bed and stood over her, passion glinting in his eyes. “Do you still want me to leave?”

She shook her head. Then she reached out for him—for the buckle of his belt and unclasped it. His hands covered hers, stopping her before she could reach for the zipper of his pants. “Are you sure?” he asked.

His erection pressed against the zipper. He wanted her. Even though he should be furious with her, he wanted her. And Rebecca had never stopped wanting him. Six years. It had been too long.

“Very sure,” she replied.

And then he joined her in the bed, his hard body pressing hers into the mattress. His mouth covered hers, kissing her deeply.

She wanted more than kisses, though. She tugged his shirt free of his loosened pants. Then she reached for the buttons running down his chest and abdomen. As she undid each one, she revealed an inch of skin and muscle. When his shirt was open, she pressed kisses to his chest.

He groaned. And she smiled, pleased that she affected him as much as he affected her. But her kisses must have snapped his control because he moved quickly then, removing clothes from both their bodies until they were naked—their skin flushed with desire.

He pushed her back against the pillows, and he kissed her everywhere. Her neck, her shoulder, her elbow...and each fingertip.