Cameron moved to stand in front of her bay window. “I would have given you anything you wanted. You should have stayed with me.”
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
They couldn’t be back to this. Ivy jumped to her feet and hurried toward him. Then…then she couldn’t touch him. Fear held her back.
I don’t want to hurt him.
“Cameron, you know I love you.”
He looked back at her. His lips had twisted. “Like a friend.”
“No, more than that. Like family. You matter to me, so much.”
His gaze lowered.
“I’m not
in
love with you, Cameron, and you’re not in love with me.” She knew that with certainty. The guy had a new flavor of the week always waiting in the wings. “I think we heard too many people tell us that we
should
be together when we were younger, but we weren’t right that way. We didn’t fit.”
“Not the way you fit with Bennett.”
Bennett infuriated her. He drove her to the edge and…
Yes, when she was with him, she still felt like she fit.
The connection between her and Bennett had been so strong—from the very beginning—and maybe it had even scared her a little.
Am I supposed to give so much of myself to him?
She had. Too late, she’d realized that she’d given Bennett everything.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Now Cameron sounded grim. “But that’s going to happen, Ivy. You
will
be hurt.”
“Things are different.”
“Yes, they are.” He marched around her and picked up his coat. “I think I’ll get out of town for a bit. Maybe spend some time at the beach house.”
She hurried after him. “Cameron…” She’d been clear with him, for years, and for this to come back up now…
He looked back at her. “I think it’s time I put that particular dream to bed. I saw the way you looked at him. And I saw the way he looked back at you. The past isn’t over.”
Then he was striding toward the door. She followed him out onto the porch and watched as he jumped into his SUV and drove away. Ivy didn’t immediately go back inside. She stood there, aching, so sad that she’d caused Cameron pain.
Things would have been easier, if she had been able to lose herself with him. But that hadn’t happened. And she’d known it wouldn’t be right to use him.
He deserved more.
So do I.
She could hear the sound of the parade, drifting in the air. It was Saturday night—more floats would be filling the streets, and the boom of drum beats echoed around her. That sound used to soothe her, but it didn’t anymore. She tensed, her heart raced faster. Her arms wrapped around her stomach as she listened to those sounds. The bands were marching. The crowd cheering.
Was the killer out there again? Hiding in that crowd. Watching everyone?
A car turned down her street. She tensed for a moment, but then recognized the vehicle. Ivy didn’t move from her positon as Bennett parked near the curb. He exited quickly, and hurried toward her.
He looked big. Strong. Dangerous. Typical Bennett.
The exact opposite of Cameron. In so many ways.
She’d been doing some digging on him since their last little meeting. Digging on him and the other potential victims. Nothing she’d learned had been particularly reassuring.
In fact, it had been quite the opposite.
He stopped at the foot of her porch and stared up at her. “Your new alarm system won’t do you much good if you’re outside.”
“And staying locked away for the rest of my life won’t do me a whole lot of
good
either.”
His lips hitched into a half-smile. “Touché.”
She didn’t smile back. “Is there a reason for this little visit?”
“Yeah, I wanted to check on you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have to be watched twenty-four hours a day.”
He put his foot on the bottom step. “Maybe you shouldn’t be too sure about that.”
She tried to read his expression. The light from her porch spilled onto him. “What did you learn?”
“I talked with Evette’s family. They said she’d hooked up with a man she called Robert Adderly—they met about a week ago at a ball. Evette seemed to fall hard for the guy, and she told her mother he was perfect. Smart, handsome, rich.”
Ivy waited.
“Only the mother—and none of Evette’s friends—actually met Robert. And when I tried to do a search on the guy, I couldn’t find him. At least, not a guy matching that description. I did find one Robert Adderly living in Mobile, but he’s an eighty-eight year old gentlemen currently residing in a nursing facility.”
“So you think that her lover gave her a false name.”
“I think he fed her plenty of lies. I think he got close to her, he enjoyed her, used her, and when he was done…”
No defensive wounds.
“She never even had a chance to fight,” Bennett said.
Ivy rubbed her arms. “And the others that Dr. Battiste mentioned? Did they have mystery men in their lives, too?” She already knew this part, though.
“You tell me,” he invited.
Uh, oh…
“Because Fiona Hargrave—she was the woman found in Mobile about two years ago—her mother said that she talked with an investigator today. A woman who wanted to know about the men in Fiona’s life.”
Ivy shrugged. “Guilty.”
He climbed another step. They were on eye level now. “You know that Fiona also had a lover, one that her family never met. A man who called himself William Walker.”
She nodded.
“The victim in New Orleans had a lover, too. Her family didn’t meet him.”
There was no missing that pattern.
“No lover showed for any of the funerals,” Bennett added. “The guy just vanished when the women turned up dead.”
“Of course, he vanished,” she said, speaking softly, “he was done with them.”
He’d already moved on to someone new…just like he did with me.
Evette’s body had barely been cold, and he’d already been tormenting Ivy. Only… “He didn’t try to seduce me.”
“Good fucking thing,” Bennett muttered.
She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand.” And, yes, she
had
talked to the families. She’d called them and told them that she was a private investigator interested in solving cold cases. They’d been hesitant at first, but they’d answered her questions.
And they’d been grateful…glad someone was still looking for answers.
Because they’d felt as if their daughters had been buried and forgotten by the rest of the world.
“These women were all infatuated with the men they knew.” That had been clear in the phone calls. “They told their families wonderful things about the man.”
If
it had been the same man. “But he didn’t try to charm me or trick me. He came at me, showing me exactly what he was. Not pretending anything else.”
Why?
She hadn’t seen his face. She wouldn’t have known if he’d walked up to her and flirted. Hell, she
still
didn’t know what he looked like.
“Something is different with me,” Ivy said. And that made her nervous.
“Maybe
you’re
just different.” Bennett gazed at her. “You saw him kill. Maybe that makes you different. Maybe you saw him for what he is, and maybe the bastard likes that.”
A shiver swept over her. “Maybe.”
It was good, being on eye level with him. Being so close to him. Their bodies were close, but not touching. The temptation to touch him was strong, but she didn’t move.
“I like that coat,” Bennett remarked.
Her lips parted and she glanced down. “Oh, sorry!”
His
coat. She’d put it on without really thinking about it before and she shouldered out of it.
“No.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Keep it. I’ve got more.”
So did she.
He didn’t pull his hand back.
“You know killers.” Those weren’t the words she’d meant to say. Were they?
His hand lifted and he brushed back the hair that had fallen over her cheek. “Yes.” He seemed sad. “I do.”
“Y-you worked Violent Crimes.” She had a few federal connections—courtesy of her father—that she’d used to dig into his past.
Bennett gave a low whistle. “You have been busy today. I should have known you weren’t just walking away to spend a lazy Saturday someplace.”
She never spent lazy Saturdays anywhere. “How many killers did you take down?”
“Ivy…” Now a warning edge entered his voice.
She wasn’t backing off. “Tell me about your last case.” Because
that
was the one that mattered. The one that had changed everything for him. And, try as she might, that case had remained classified.
She had uncovered only the barest of facts. Bennett and his partner had been working a case, tracking a suspected serial killer. The suspect had been killed. Bennett’s partner had been killed. And Bennett had spent a week in the hospital.
After he was released, he’d taken a month leave from the Bureau. Then, abruptly, he’d quit and headed back to Alabama.
He’d almost died, and I didn’t even know it.
Strange…to think of how much his death would have hurt her, when they’d been apart for so long.
“You don’t want to hear about that case.”
“Actually, I do. I want to hear everything about you.”
He eased down a step. “I have some photos at the station that I want you to come and take a look at. Pictures that were snapped by people at the ball. The press was filming the scene when everyone left, and it’s possible we have our perp on camera.”
Was that his way of saying he wasn’t about to tell her about that last case or why he’d suddenly left the FBI? Did he think she was just going to drop it? No, she’d get her answers, sooner or later. She always did. “Let’s go,” Ivy said. It wasn’t as if she had any other thrilling plans for the night. She could hear voices drifting to her—soon the parades would be in full force.
She didn’t want to be alone that night. Better to go with Bennett and see those photos.
Better to be with him.
She locked her house. Set the new alarm. Then they walked together over to the street. Bennett opened the passenger door. She slid inside, and his rich, masculine scent seemed to follow her. He shut the passenger door behind her and walked around the vehicle. Her gaze darted down her street, one of those historic streets lined with oaks that were at least a hundred years old. Spanish moss hung from the oaks, drifting lightly in the breeze. The trees were gorgeous. She’d always loved them but…
But they sent dark shadows sweeping through the neighborhood. They provided so many hiding spaces.
Bennett closed his door. He slid into the seat and cranked the engine. Ivy eased out a low breath and straightened her shoulders. For an instant there, she’d almost been sure that someone
was
hiding in the shadows. Watching. Waiting.
Maybe she was just letting her imagination get the better of her.
As the car headed down the street, she couldn’t help but glance back at the shadows.
Or maybe not.
***
Ivy had left…
with
that jerk detective. The man was proving to be an annoyance. He’d kept tabs on the detective that day. He knew Bennett Morgan was messing with the dead. He should leave the ladies to rest, and not go digging into their past.
Into my past.
He’d always been so careful with the kills. One in New Orleans, one in Mobile. Always planning them right when Mardi Gras was in full swing. The cities were packed then—hotels overflowing. It was so easy to vanish in those crowds. So easy to kill. And he’d learned that if he played things just right, the bodies weren’t even found for days, or weeks after those parades and parties ended.
So perfect. So brilliant.
But…
Ivy saw me.
For the first time, someone had watched while he killed. And he’d liked that. Liked it so fucking much to have her eyes on him while he drove his knife into a victim.
And everything that he learned about Ivy, every new secret that was revealed, told him just how truly perfect she was for him.
She looked like his victims. So beautiful. So breakable.
But…
But there’s more to her. She’s important, I know it.
He stared up at her house. More of Ivy’s secrets were in that house. He wanted in there. He wanted to be waiting for her when the cop brought her back.
But Ivy had installed a new security system. He’d watched that installation. Even come up and talked with the security team when they’d been taking a break outside. He knew she’d gotten a good system, one that he might not be able to bypass.
His eyes narrowed.
But I want in.
And what he wanted, he got.
There were dozens of videos. And easily several thousand pictures. Ivy stared at them until she was sure her eyes burned, but she didn’t see any sign of the killer. Or, if she did, she didn’t realize it.
He had on a mask. It was dark. Dammit, the only thing I know about him is that his hair is dark and he’s built like Bennett.
“No luck?”
She looked up at Bennett’s voice. She was in his office, sitting at his desk, and he’d just appeared in the doorway. His voice hadn’t been particularly hopeful, and she saw that his expression was grim.
“No, I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “It was a long shot. There are so many exits from that convention center, and the place was total chaos.”
“No bloody clothes were found?”
“Not by the crime team, and they went back again earlier, searching for it.” He crossed the room and came to her side, standing over her as he looked down at the computer. “It’s really the perfect place, if you think about it. All of those people, many of them already so drunk they can’t stand…and even if they
aren’t
drunk, then maybe they’ve had enough to be buzzing a bit. They won’t remember what they saw. Throw in the masks and the darkness, and you have your total anonymity. If you wanted to commit a crime, if you wanted to hurt someone…do it right there. No one will know.”
She shivered because his voice had turned so cold. “Is that what you think he’s been doing? Killing in the crowds for what—the last few years?”
“It’s what makes sense. A prime hunting ground.”
Okay, that was creepy. But she didn’t speak because she knew exactly what he was doing—profiling the killer. He’d probably done that before, when he’d been working Violent Crimes. She wanted to hear what else he had to say.
“His victims look alike,” Ivy said as she craned her head to look up at him.
They look like me.
“And that’s why he’s probably thrilled right now.” His eyes glinted. “Fate just dropped you right in his hands. Another perfect victim.”
Now she jumped to her feet and their bodies brushed. “I’m not anyone’s victim.” The hell she was.
“Ivy,” he sighed out her name. “I’ve been doing research on you, too.”
Only fair. She’d dug into his past and—
“Why do you like danger so much?”
She flinched at that question. “It’s not the danger. Maybe I just want to help someone else.” And that was exactly what she was doing—trying to help. Trying to save someone else’s life.
Her grandfather had trained her well, and she’d loved working at his PI business. And it wasn’t just about the rush that came from the job. It was about the difference that she could make. The difference her grandfather had made.
Her father had tried to crash and burn that legacy, but she’d been determined to build it back up. Ivy heaved out a hard breath. “Money and power can do a lot of things in this world. They can sure hide plenty of sins.”
“Like your father’s?”
“I know you hated him.” There was no use pretending for either of them. “He blackmailed his way to power. He covered his past, made sure that the skeletons in his closet would stay dead, but
I
am not him.”
“I never said you were.”
“No, you just look at me sometimes, judging me, thinking I’m cut from the same cloth.” Why had she thought anything would change regarding that? “Screw that, Bennett. Screw
you.
” She shoved by him and marched for the door.
She’d taken only a few steps when he caught her. He grabbed her wrist and swung her back around to face him. The office was small and with their bodies intimately close—it sure felt one hell of a lot smaller.
“He got away with murder,” Bennett whispered.
Yes, he had. But only for a time.
“He was drinking that night, Ivy,” Bennett continued gruffly. “He
killed
her. And the cops and the media just let him walk.”
She thought of that fiery crash. Of the way the flames had shot in the sky. She’d gotten there right after the accident. She and Bennett had arrived together. She’d seen the aftermath.
And had borne the brunt of Bennett’s pain, even back then.
His aunt had been in that car. His aunt…she’d been the one that Senator DuLane hit with his BMW late one night after he’d had too many drinks at his bay house. His car had slammed right into hers, and Bennett’s aunt…she’d never been able to escape the flames.
But the cops and the press, they’d told a different story. Slick roads. Too much rain. A tragic accident.
Not manslaughter.
No matter what Bennett and his mother had said, no one had believed them. Hell, there hadn’t even been a blood alcohol test taken from the senator that night, or…if there
had
been, it had vanished later.
Money and power.
That night had torn her and Bennett apart. He’d become so angry. So full of rage. And so determined to get justice.
He’d left town. Joined the FBI.
And she’d…
Stayed. I tried to make things better. I tried to atone. It just didn’t always work for me.
“I couldn’t stay here,” Bennett said. “Not after that. Not with the world treating him like he was some damn victim.”
No.
“He tried to buy us off,” Bennett admitted.
She knew this, and it broke her heart all the more.
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “My mother took that money. She took his fifty thousand, and she didn’t look back.”
Bennett’s mother had cleared out of town and never come back. Bennett’s father had died when he was a child, just as Ivy’s mom had, and Bennett—
“Why did you come back?” Ivy asked. She truly hadn’t thought there was anything left for him in this town.
“Don’t you know?” His eyes glittered at her as his head began to lower.
Her heart beat faster. She wanted to think that he’d come back for her. That after all that time had passed, he’d still cared. He’d needed her.
But she wasn’t given to delusions. Not usually, anyway.
“Why?” Ivy asked again, her voice soft.
He kissed her. Not a hard, desperate kiss. Not an I’m-Starving-And-Must-Have-You kiss. But deep. Slow. Sensual.
Her eyes closed as she leaned in to him. Ivy’s mouth moved slowly against his. Her lips touched his, and her tongue slid to tease his. She’d always loved his kiss. He’d savored her in the past—and he was savoring her now.
He hadn’t been the first boy she’d ever kissed, but he had been the first to teach her about passion and need.
And the first to break her heart.
I begged him to stay, for me.
Her hands rose and pressed to his chest. She pushed against him and Bennett’s head slowly lifted. His eyes were heavy-lidded, that green of his gaze so very deep.
“You know I want you,” Bennett said.
Wanting wasn’t enough but…
Maybe it can do, for now.
“You’ve been in my dreams,” Bennett told her, his voice gruff. “Too many nights. A man should never think about one woman the way I think about you.”
“How do you think about me, exactly?” Because that would be good to know. Her own voice had come out husky.
“Every damn way I can. I think about the things I want to do with you. To you.” His voice deepened even more as he confessed, “The way I feel about you…it isn’t safe, Ivy. It isn’t good. You should be telling me to get my hands off you.”
“But I want your hands on me.” All over her. “I’m not the one who ran away.”
“Ivy…”
She rose onto her toes. She’d pushed him away a moment before but now she was the one locking her arms around his neck and pulling him back down to her. She’d stopped him because the kiss, while certainly good, had been wrong.
Too slow. Too careful. Too controlled.
When they touched, they were supposed to ignite. The passion was supposed to take over. It wasn’t supposed to be lukewarm.
Good.
That’s the way it was with others.
With Bennett, it was supposed to be insane.
“Let go,” she whispered against his mouth, and then she kissed him again—with every bit of need and desire that she had bottled up inside of her.
She
let go.
And…so did he.
This kiss was different. This kiss was hot. It was wild. It made lust burn through every cell of her body. His hands were on her hips now, and he jerked her up against him. That wasn’t enough. That wasn’t close enough—he must have felt the same way because Bennett lifted her up. He pinned her against the nearest wall and he crushed her there, caging Ivy with his body.
His mouth didn’t let hers go. His tongue, his lips—they were whipping up the frenzy of her need. Her nipples were tight and aching and she couldn’t get enough of him.
Her nails sank into his shoulders. Her legs wrapped around his hips. The guy was sexy strong—he held her easily right there and—
Something was ringing
.
It was her.
Bennett’s head lifted. He blinked and frowned down at her.
“M-my phone,” Ivy whispered. Someone had the worst timing in the entire world. Her legs slipped off his hips and her feet hit the floor, and it was a good thing he still had a grip on her waist because her knees felt a little jiggly. She fumbled and yanked her phone out of her back pocket.
Unknown caller.
She glanced at Bennett, but then put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” It was far too late for some telemarketer, and the kick in her gut warned her this wasn’t going to be good.
“
Why are you with him?”
The voice was low, rasping. Was it the same voice that she’d heard the night before, in that dark corridor? She couldn’t tell for certain.
Maybe.
Her gaze was on Bennett. “Who is this?”
“I’m the man in the mask…the only man you should see…”
Her hand shook just a little as she held that phone. She pulled the phone from her ear and swiped her fingers over the screen, activing the speaker option so that Bennett could hear the call. She mouthed “
It’s him”
to Bennett.
Ivy cleared her throat. “The man in the mask? I don’t—”
“You saw me. Did you enjoy it? Knowing that she was dying, right then. With the crowd all around, but they were oblivious, so oblivious…
we
knew. You and I. Just us.”
Oh, jeez, he was making it sound as if they’d been involved in the killing together. “I tried to stop you!”
He laughed. That laughter chilled her.
“Why did you kill the councilman?” Ivy asked. She wanted him to keep talking and to confess anything—everything—he could while Bennett was listening. Then, going by instinct, she said, “He wasn’t a pretty young brunette, not your type at all.”
“No,” the caller agreed. “You’re my type.”
Her chill got worse.
“He was in the way. He saw me. Shined his damn light right on me. What was I supposed to do? Let him just walk away?”
“He didn’t know you were a killer,” Ivy argued. “You were two men in the dark.”
“I had my knife out. He saw it. He knew me.”
Bennett mouthed, “
Keep him talking.”
“The cops found out about your other victims. The ones here and in New Orleans. They’re going to find you.”
Silence.
So much for getting the guy to keep talking.
“Hello?” Ivy pushed. “Are you—”
“You’re letting him hear the call, aren’t you, Ivy?” He sighed, sounding disappointed. “You aren’t going to trap me. That isn’t the way this works.” Voices rose in the background. She could hear laughter. Music? “But I
will
be trapping you. We’ll be meeting again. Very, very soon.”
He hung up.
“A party,” Ivy muttered. “Another ball?”
Bennett didn’t answer, he just spun and rushed for the door. “We’re going to try and trace that call.”
Could he do that? She hoped so but the knot in her stomach told her things weren’t going to be so easy. This guy—if he’d been killing for years, he wasn’t going to just go down with a slip-up like a traceable call. He’d probably used a burner phone or he’d stolen someone else’s phone or—hell, he could have done just about anything.
No, it wasn’t going to be that easy.
The guy was playing a game. He’d called so she’d know. So she’d be afraid.
I will be trapping you.
And, dammit, she was scared.
***
He slipped the phone into his pocket and smiled. Another night, another ball. And there were so many beautiful brunettes at that ball. Their dresses were lovely, glinting in the light. Whispering against their legs as the women walked.
High heels. Sexy scents.
Such tempting prey.
Not as tempting as she is.
He smiled and then pushed back through the crowd. This ball wasn’t held at the convention center. No, tonight he’d chosen to attend the ball held in one of the historic mansions in downtown Mobile. A mansion with a spiral staircase and too many glittering chandeliers.
He saw the dark-haired man to his right. He bumped into the guy, mumbling his apologies even as he slipped the phone
back
into the guy’s pocket. It had certainly been easy enough to take that phone minutes before.
In a crush like this, pockets were meant to be picked.
“Sorry, there, buddy,” he muttered as he straightened up. “I think I’ve had a few too many drinks tonight.”
The man smiled at him, flashing a dimple in his left cheek. “That’s okay. Just be careful.” His smile dimmed. “You don’t want to go driving home that way.”
Gravely, he shook his head. “A taxi is in my future.”
The guy’s dark brown eyes warmed. “Good man.” He clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m Hugh. Hugh DuLane.”
Tell me something I don’t already know…
“Hell of a party, isn’t it?” Hugh asked.
Yes, it was.
***
“My brother?” Ivy’s lips had parted in shock. “That’s not possible. That wasn’t Hugh!”
The tech glanced over at Bennett, saying nothing. But then, the guy didn’t need to say a word. The information on the computer screen was pretty undeniable. Thanks to the pull at the police department, they’d been able to get the phone company to hook them right up with the information they’d needed.