The Seventh Victim (33 page)

Lara sat under a tree with Lincoln. Against her will, her mind tripped back to the dream of the Strangler. A cold shiver slid over her body, puckering her skin with gooseflesh.

As Beck approached she rose to her feet, doing her best to shield her emotions. She didn’t speak, fearing raw emotions would make her voice crack. Lincoln also rose.

Beck scratched him between the ears. “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

“A student who can’t fail my class, or he’ll get kicked off the football team.”

“I trust that he is failing.”

“Hasn’t done a bit of work this semester, and today he turned in a stunning portfolio. I was going to challenge his work with the dean.”

Beck glanced at the tire that still hadn’t been replaced. A chilling anger rumbled under his voice. “How’d his hands end up on you?”

“He came up to me while I was changing the tire. I told him I was calling the police because I’d had it with his stunts.”

Beck cursed under his breath. “He’s the one that wrote the note?”

“I thought it was his sick idea of being funny. And I didn’t have strong proof it was him.” She shoved a shaking hand through her hair. “It stopped being funny when he cut my tire.”

He rested tense hands on his hips. “It was never funny.”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t laughed much.”

She sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got a tire to change.” She checked her watch. “I’m late for my appointment with Dr. Granger.”

“I’ll change it.” A firm, hard statement.

“I am perfectly capable. I’ve changed enough tires in my day.”

He shook his head, clearly annoyed by her stubbornness. “I’ll bet you have. But no woman is going to change a tire while I watch.”

“You don’t have to stick around and watch.”

He rolled up his sleeves. “You’ve not known me that long, so I’ll let that comment pass.”

Fractured nerves pushed her toward rebellion. “Meaning?”

He enunciated each word. “I don’t walk away from a job that’s unfinished.”

Her smile held no humor. “You make me sound like a project.”

Muttering unintelligible words under his breath, he tossed the flat tire in the truck bed, pulled the spare from the wheel well, and set it on the tire rim. Carefully, he screwed the bolts on and with the wrench, tightened each bolt so securely she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get it off the next time she had to change out the tire. He lowered the jack and put it, the flat tire, and the wrench in the back of the truck. “Good as new.”

“Thanks.” She couldn’t begrudge him the kindness.

“Any time.”

He loomed over her, tall, so strong. His scent mingled with the heat, swirling around her and making it tough for her to think. “I have a rag in the back of the truck so you can clean the grease from your hands.”

He glanced at his blackened fingertips. “Thanks.”

She reached over the side of the bed and, stretching, flipped open the back hatch to retrieve wipes. She pulled several from the box and held them out to him. “That should do the job.”

His fingers brushed hers. Calloused. Rough. “You seem pretty self-contained.”

Carefully, she curled her tingling fingers into a fist at her side. “I learned to be, traveling around so much.”

A frown deepened the lines around his eyes. “It couldn’t have been safe for you on the road.”

“I never thought much about safety at first. I was too busy running.”

“When did you start worrying? What changed your mind?”

“My truck broke down in Tulsa. It was night and raining. I got out of the car and opened the hood hoping and praying I’d see what was wrong. As the rain pelted I tried to think back to when I first bought the truck. The former owner had warned me about loose battery wires. In desperation, I checked the battery wires, made sure they were tight and got back behind the wheel.” She’d been sick with worry. “It started on the first try.”

“You were lucky.”

A sigh escaped pursed lips. “I should have put more planning into my road trips. I made a point to learn about what made my truck tick and to travel by day.”

With deliberate care he wiped the grease from his hands until no traces remained. A scowl added ferocity, as he tossed the soiled wipe in a nearby trash can. “A woman alone on the open road is trouble waiting to happen.”

“I saved myself before.”

A hard, lingering gaze held her. “You were lucky.”

“I was smart and skilled.”

He flexed his fingers. “All the trouble you can dream up doesn’t compare to the suffering lurking and waiting on the open road.”

“You make it sound like we’re in the Middle Ages.”

The grease from his hand was gone, but he wiped it again as if trying to erase a hard memory. “Remember I was a DPS officer for nearly a decade on the Texas roads.”

Lara didn’t ask for war stories. The day’s heat sent droplets of sweat between her breasts. She imagined Beck’s fingers following the same path. She cleared her throat and shifted the conversation. “Have you identified the other victim?”

“No.”

“One of my students didn’t show today. I am worried about her. I know she drives I-35 a good bit. Her name is Danni Rome.”

“What does she look like?”

“She’s blond. Petite, dark eyes. Just shy of eighteen.”

“It wasn’t her. The victim was blond, but she was older and tall.”

Like the others. Like me. “Danni’s just a kid. Seventeen and finishing up high school. She is smart and great, but I get a bad vibe. Home must not be so good for her.”

“I can ask around.”

Color rose in her face. “The kid just missed one class. That’s hardly a cause to call the cops in.”

“But you have a feeling.”

“Let me give it some time. I’ll call her if I haven’t heard.” He stood so close she could feel the heat and energy from his body. She wanted to lean into that strength and absorb what she could. She didn’t.

His gaze lingered, darkening. He wasn’t accustomed to being put off. “Okay.”

“I have to hurry to Dr. Granger’s.” She checked her watch. “In fact, I’m late.”

“I’d like to tag along. Listen in.”

“Sure, why not. Maybe you’ll hear something when I start babbling.”

The corner of his mouth hitched a notch. “You don’t babble.”

“You know those crazy stage shows that involve people being hypnotized?” Humor acted as a relief valve.

“I’ve seen a couple.”

“I picture myself barking like a dog or standing straight like a tree.”

The shadows behind his gaze lifted. “You did just fine the last time.”

“And you’ll tell me if I act like a fool?”

“Of course.” Despite the stern tone, she sensed teasing.

Her guard dropped. “I just don’t like giving over control.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

That made her laugh. “I didn’t used to be so controlling. I used to be pretty fun-loving.”

“I’d say you still are.”

“How can you tell?”

“Just a hunch.”

The warmth behind the words soothed as it unsettled. She was part of the job for him, and she’d be wise to remember that. “Let’s get going.”

“Sure.”

She and Lincoln got in her car and they drove across town to Dr. Granger’s office. Beck was behind her the entire way. The sentinel. The guardian.

She felt protected. It would be so easy to forget she was an asset, a witness, and embrace the sensation she’d known rarely in her life.

When she got out of her car with Lincoln, Beck was there to guide her to the front entrance. He opened the door for her, and for a moment she hesitated. It had been a long time since anyone had opened a door for her.

She walked into the offices with Lincoln and the security guard glanced sharply at her, but after Beck waved him off he stayed silent.

The ride in the elevator felt like it lasted forever. With just her, the dog, and Beck there was barely enough room to move or breathe. Beck had a way of sucking in all the space’s air and energy. A human tornado. Powerful. Huge. Potentially destructive.

The doors opened to a carpeted hallway, and they moved to glass doors that opened to a reception area. A quiet brunet with dark-rimmed glasses greeted them, and soon Lara was sitting in Dr. Granger’s office with a promise from the receptionist that the doctor would arrive soon.

Lincoln settled down on the floor and closed his eyes.

As Beck sat next to Lara his cell phone rang. He glanced at the number. “I’ve got to take this.”

“Sure.” She smiled and moved to a bookshelf, hoping to give him a measure of privacy.

He moved toward the window and faced the city skyline. Though his voice was low and controlled, she could not mistake his words. “So far he’s fine, but the doctors are worried, Steve. Mom wants you home to see him just in case.”

There was silence as Beck listened to the other man on the line. Tension deepened the lines around his mouth with each passing second, and she couldn’t help but wonder who Steve was or what had happened. When he closed the phone and faced her she saw a menace that took her breath away. This was the face of a hunter. A warrior.

“Everything all right?” she said.

His gaze shifted to her deliberately. “Yes.”

So tired of her own problems, she shifted her attention to his. “That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard.”

“I can handle it.”

“So it is a problem.”

He exhaled. “It’s family.”

She laughed. “Translation: problem.”

“Not always.”

“Maybe in your family. Not mine. I don’t remember a Christmas, Easter, or Thanksgiving that wasn’t pure hell in the Church home.”

Grasping the sadness woven under the lightly spoken words, he frowned. “It wasn’t like that in our home.”

“Who’s Steve?”

“My brother.”

“Sounds like you have an issue with Steve?”

“Since when did you get so interested in my life?”

“Since mine hit the skids a couple of weeks ago. Easier to worry over what Steve has done to piss you off than wonder if I’ll be able to remember the man that tried to kill me before he kills another woman.”

Beck’s face softened. “Steve is an FBI agent. He travels a lot for work and is hard to get. He rarely gets home these days. Our grandfather is sick, and I’ve told Steve he needs to come home.”

“And he doesn’t want to.”

“He wants to, but he says he can’t. He’s in the middle of a big case.”

“Where is your dad?”

“Died on the oil rigs about twenty years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hard to feel sympathy for a man I barely knew. If not for pictures in Henry’s house, I couldn’t tell you what he looked like.”

“Do you look like him?”

“I look like Henry. Steve looks like Dad and has his wanderlust as well.”

“And so you became the super responsible one who keeps the family together.”

“Mom and Henry did that until five or six years ago when Henry had his first heart attack. When he got sick I did step in and help with the family business.”

“Which is?”

“Beck’s Garage.”

“That explains how you changed the tire so easily.”

“I’ve had my head in one engine or another since I was three.”

Questions initiated as a diversion from her troubles had morphed into genuine interest. “Why the Rangers?”

“As a kid it was easy to look up to them. Henry saw early on that that was what I wanted, so he encouraged me. Did the same for Steve. Wanted us to live our own lives. My brother took off first chance he got, but I stuck around—would have been in the garage today if my grandfather hadn’t fired me.”

“Fire you? Why?”

“He was smart enough to know I’d not have left otherwise.” Beck’s tone was matter-of-fact.

The door opened and Dr. Granger entered. She had her hair up in a French twist and wore another dark slim skirt, a white shirt, and a discreet strand of pearls. “Lara. I am so glad you could come.”

They shook hands. “Thanks for seeing me.”

“I’m glad to have you.” She shook Beck’s hand. “Beck. Will you be joining us for the session?”

“Yeah.”

When Lara nodded her agreement, Dr. Granger ushered the three to a small sitting area with a couch and two chairs. Lara sat on the couch. Beck sat to her right in a chair, hat in hand. Dr. Granger sat to her left on the couch.

“Now I want you to relax.” Dr. Granger’s voice had a calming, quiet quality.

Shoving out a sigh, Lara attempted a smile. “Easier said than done. I feel as if I’m sitting on pins and needles.”

“You’re not. This is just you and me talking. No pressure.”

Lara glanced at Beck. “Locked in my memory is the face of a killer.”

“Let’s not worry about that now, okay?” Beck said. “Let’s just worry about relaxing and listening to the sound of Dr. Granger’s voice.”

The doctor smiled. “Ask any of the Rangers, and they’ll tell you I have a voice that can put anyone to sleep.”

Lara smiled. “Okay.”

“Close your eyes.”

Lara closed her eyes and rested her hands on her thighs. She started to breathe deeply and release the worry and fear.

“That’s exactly right,” Dr. Granger said. “Just relax.” She shifted her weight on the couch so that she was closer to Lara. “Now I want you to imagine a crystal hanging from the rearview mirror of your truck. You are sitting on the side of the road and in the distance you see mountains and blue skies. Do you see it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now slowly pull your attention toward the crystal and focus on the play of the sun in the crystal. Note the colors and the way the crystal spins.”

Lara’s inward gaze drew in closer and closer until all that she could see was the rainbow of colors in the crystal. The physical world melted away. Her fingers eased into the soft denim fabric covering her thighs.

“We’ve traveled back in time to Seattle. You’ve just gotten a huge job promotion, and you are on top of the world.”

Lara smiled. “I’d been waiting and hoping for this job for months.”

“You were thrilled.”

She eased back into the couch, remembering the sense of relief she’d felt when she’d gotten the call. “Beyond thrilled.”

“And who were you celebrating with that night? What friends did you have around you?”

“The usual suspects.” She smiled. “Angela. My roommate. Dave who was in my marketing class with me. Kyra from yoga and Nancy from the new company. They were kidding me when I ordered my second glass of wine. I was always a little rigid and focused on work. They’d never seen me let my hair down.”