Protective Custody Page 4

  She nodded. “And?”

  “Someone left a pretty gruesome Halloween decoration on your porch. A head. In a pool of fake blood.”

  She clutched her throat. “Why would…” She widened her eyes. “He’s trying to scare me, isn’t he?”

  “We don’t know that, Megan. It could just as easily be a mischievous teenager.”

  “Are you sure it’s not real blood?”

  He nodded solemnly. “It’s fake. I have a friend who’ll check for any evidence, like fingerprints.”

  “No one’s done anything like that in the four years I’ve lived here.” Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, but she swiped them away. “He knows where I live. He’ll come after me as soon as I’m alone. I know he will.”

  He clasped her hands tightly in his lap. “We’ll find him, baby. I promise. I won’t leave you alone for a single second until we do.”

  “What are you going to do, Will? Move in here?” She hung her head. “I didn’t even see his face. He could be anyone.”

  “Here’s what we need to do. Go get a tablet or some paper and a pen.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t question me, woman. Do what I tell you.”

  Her eyebrows snapped together. “Please?” He gave her a playful swat on her ass as she stood. “Hurry up.”

  She bristled but fetched the items from the desk.

  “Here’s the plan. Twenty questions.”

  She settled in beside him. “Twenty questions?”

  He nodded and took the items. “Now, question one. What color was his hair?”

  He jotted down the details as Megan relayed the information, and in the end they had a sketchy description. “It’s better than I sometimes got from witnesses.”

  “Really?” Her face lit up like a little kid’s.

  “Really.”

  “So now what?” She inched toward him, set her hands on his lap.

  Having her this close was pure torture. His cock strained against his pants. He stood and paced, hoping to shake off his intense hunger for her.

  Concentrate on the case, not on her.

  “Now we have a clearer picture of the man we’re looking for.” He faced her. “Do you still have that assistant?”

  “Betsy? Sure.”

  “Good. Make sure she’s there every moment you’re at your office. While you’re at work tomorrow, I’ll do some digging around. Then I’ll pick you up and bring you back here.”

  She stretched her legs. “I’m lucky you’re a cop, huh?”

  The familiar shame surged inside him. “I’m not with the sheriff’s office anymore. I resigned a few months ago.”

  She straightened. “Why? You loved being a cop.”

  He couldn’t meet her stare. “I screwed up. It was bad. A man died because of me.” His throat constricted. He scrubbed a hand over his chin, pictured the rainy night that had changed his life.

  The man running from a convenience store, pointing something at him that looked like a gun. A single gunshot.

  “I don’t want to get into that.” There. She knew his shame.

  She went to him, then wrapped her arms around his waist. Her pity was the last thing he wanted. He eased her away. “We were discussing your security. I’m working as a private investigator now. I’ll tell my boss I’m unavailable for a few days.”

  “You can do that?”

  He shrugged. “I work for a friend. He’s good to me.”

  She moved her hands toward his face, hesitated, then clasped them behind her. “You’re good to me. Thank you.”

  He wanted to hold her, to make love to her, but she was too vulnerable. She pulled him to the sofa and, yawning, snuggled into the crook of his arm. When she didn’t say anything for a long time, he smiled. She’d fallen asleep in his arms. Just as well. She had to be exhausted. Laying his head back on the cushion, he shut his eyes.

  Megan meant everything to him, and he refused to let her down.

  Chapter Four

  Will accompanied Megan to her office door. Standing at the threshold, he hesitated a moment, then moved closer as if he was about to kiss her.

  No. Betsy might be watching, and Megan didn’t want to provide more fodder for the gossip she yapped about to her friends all day. She turned her head just in time for his kiss to land on her cheek. Swallowing hard, she backed away. “Um, thanks for the ride. I’ll see you this afternoon.” Without waiting for a response, she slipped into the office.

  Betsy looked up from her magazine and smiled. “Hey. I didn’t know you and Will were back together. When did that happen? I want all the gory details. Did he spend the night?”

  “We’re not together.” She crumpled into the white wicker love seat, gearing up to face her private office. “He just…” Betsy would probably think she was crazy if she shared details of what she’d witnessed last night. At least until the police found the victim’s body. “My car’s being temperamental. So he gave me a lift. That’s all.”

  Betsy lifted a blond eyebrow. Megan crossed to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup.

  Betsy joined her and fixed a refill.

  “Oh, some guy called for you. I didn’t write up a message, because he wouldn’t give me his name. But he said to tell you he’d see you later.” She tilted her head. “Any idea what that’s about? Sounded kind of creepy.”

  Megan set her cup down on the table where they kept property brochures, afraid her shaking hands would make her spill it. “W-what else did he say?”

  Betsy shrugged. “That was it. You okay? You look green around the edges.”

  She managed a nod. “Fine. I’ll be in my office.” She shut the door, then sank into her chair and laid her head on the desk.

  The murderer had called her office. It had to be him. He could be next door for all she knew.

  She had to convince the cops that a murder actually had taken place so they’d go after the killer. Unless they’d found the girl’s body by now. Corpses didn’t disappear. Steeling herself, she dialed the sheriff’s office and asked to speak with a detective.

  “Detective Wooton,” a woman with a gravelly voice said. “How can I help you?”

  Megan cleared her throat. “My name is Megan Jackson, and I reported a murder last night. An officer came, but we couldn’t find the body.”

  “Whoa, whoa. You saw a murder?”

  “Yes. I was watching from my office window. This man had a young woman by her neck, and he killed her.”

  Fingernails tapped on a keyboard, then silence. “Ah, I see. You called at nine-forty. Deputy Guthrie reported it as…a false alarm.”

  She gritted her teeth. “But it wasn’t a false alarm, Detective. The murderer must have moved the body. You have to believe me. I think he’s after me now.” As soon as the last sentence left her lips, she knew she’d made an awful mistake.

  “Uh-huh. Let me ask you something, Miss Jackson. Had you been drinking last night? Maybe drinking at a Halloween party or something?”

  “No. I was sober as a judge. I swear. Would you please tell me if anyone was reported missing today? A young woman, nineteen or twenty, with long black hair.”

  Please let someone have noticed that poor girl’s absence.

  “Nope. No missing-persons reports. Do you take any prescription medications?”

  “No! I am not crazy, Detective. I’m telling you a woman was killed, and if you don’t find him, he’s going to find me. He knows where I live and work. He left a fake severed head on my porch, and now he’s phoning my office.”

  “Miss Jackson. I’ll be happy to connect you to a counselor who can help you. Would you hold on a moment, please?”

  She wanted to scream. Instead she hung up. She buried her face in her hands and replayed the awful scene. The woman’s terrified eyes, that horrible man choking the life out of her. She didn’t imagine it. Why else would the man have chased her?

  Why am I doubting myself?

  A knock on the door dragged her back to the present.
She sat up and wiped her eyes. “Come in.”

  Betsy came in. “Tenant at the Ranford house called to complain that one of the toilets is backed up.”

  “Call Sunshine Plumbers, would you?”

  “No problem. You okay? You’re flushed.” She walked to the desk and set her hand on Megan’s forehead.

  “I’m fine.” She backed away. “Please, I just have a headache.”

  “Maybe you should go home. I can cancel your appointment, reschedule it for tomorrow.”

  “I’m staying. But thank you for your concern.”

  She went to the door and held it open so Betsy would catch the hint. “I have work to do.”

  Bristling, Betsy left. Megan settled into her desk and finally relaxed while Betsy called the plumber. When the second line rang, she answered. The caller said nothing.

  “Who is this?”

  “You know who I am,” a man’s voice said, somehow disguised or muffled. “And I know who you are, Megan.”

  She dropped her pen. “Wh…what do you want?”

  A sinister laugh. “I want you. Let’s play.”

  “Please leave me alone.”

  “I will.” More wicked laughter. “When you’re dead.”

  She slammed the phone down. It rang a minute later. With a shaky hand, she answered. “Southern State Vacation Rentals. How may I help you?”

  Nothing.

  “Hello?”

  “You can’t ignore me, Megan. That will make it worse for you and your boyfriend.”

  The blood drained from her face. Had he been watching her last night? Or this morning? She closed the blinds. “Please leave me alone.”

  When he didn’t respond, she hung up.

  She couldn’t stop her heart from kabooming. She yanked her bottom drawer open and grabbed several pages of blank check sheets and loaded them into her printer. Then she logged on to her computer to do the monthly bookkeeping.

  The numbers on the screen all ran together.

  If she didn’t get some air, she’d explode. She marched out of her office. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she told Betsy.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just a walk. I won’t be long.” Without waiting for a response, she pushed through the door and hurried along the sidewalk, putting distance between her and the office.

  She pulled in a breath of humid air, then blew it out, willing her mind to slow down. Halfway down the street she glanced back at the vacant storefront and shivered. Fisting her hands at her sides, she started toward the property.

  The closer she came, the more agitated she grew, but some hidden force compelled her to continue. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck, but she kept walking. When she reached the store, she hugged herself.

  Why am I here?

  There had to be something she’d overlooked, some proof that a woman had been murdered.

  She rounded the corner and circled the building. Her shoes crunched on the gravel parking lot.

  It didn’t seem so frightening in the midday sunshine. Something on the ground caught her eye as it glittered in the light. She hurried to the spot, then crouched to get a better look. She reached for the sliver of metal poking up between two stones. An earring. Maybe her earring.

  Movement in the bushes startled her, but she didn’t see anything. A breeze rustled the foliage. Then the air grew silent—too silent.

  Hot fear rushed through her. Rather than investigating, she hurried away and, when she emerged on the sidewalk, finally released the breath she’d been holding. She sprinted back to her office.

  “What were you doing over there?” Betsy asked.

  “Just looking around.” She headed into her office and sat behind her desk. Laying the earring on her desk, she studied it. The silver hoop was unique. Several thin strands of metal had been wound together and bent into a form that wasn’t a perfect enough circle to have been mass-produced.

  Maybe it did belong to the murdered girl. Had she been wearing earrings? The girl had been too far away to tell. The jewelry could belong to anyone.

  “I’m going to go grab some lunch. You want anything?” Betsy leaned against the doorjamb.

  “No, thanks.” Her stomach lurched at the mere thought of food.

  “Okay. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  The door chimed as Betsy left. Megan tried to concentrate on work. She finished her bookkeeping, then sifted through her messages—a potential new tenant, their office-supplies dealer. As she picked up the phone to return a call, the door chimed again. “Bets?”

  No answer.

  “Betsy? That you?”

  Silence.

  Pulse pounding, she carefully set the phone on the cradle and pushed away from her desk. She steeled herself and inched toward the door. “Hello?”

  Nothing.

  What the hell?

  Maybe the wind had pushed the door open. When the chime rang again, she stood perfectly still. Seconds passed, and the only sound she heard was her blood pulsing in her ears.

  The chime sounded again.

  “Hellooooo,” Betsy chirped.

  Closing her eyes for a moment, Megan drew a deep breath and willed her heart to slow down. She marched into the reception area. “Did you come in a minute ago?”

  “I just got here. Didn’t you hear me say hello?”

  “Right.”

  “You okay?” Betsy set her lunch sack on her desk.

  “Mmm-hmm. Fine.” She returned to her office before she made a complete fool of herself. She could call Will. Or the police. But what would she say? The cops would think she was crazy or imagining things.

  Maybe I am.

  She’d been on edge since last night. She had to immerse herself in work—a perfect distraction. Plus, she had a lot to do.

  The hours flew by as she caught up on her work. At a quarter to five Betsy buzzed her on the intercom. “Will’s on line one.”

  She couldn’t stifle her smile as she answered. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” He spoke the word in a clipped manner, and she instantly knew he wouldn’t be able to pick her up. “I’m helping my boss out, and it’s taking longer than expected.” Which obviously didn’t make him happy.

  She tried to school the disappointment from her voice. “No problem. I’m sure Betsy can take me home.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? Make sure you lock everything up tight.”

  “Okay. See you later.” As soon as she hung up, she opened the door and asked Betsy for a ride.

  “No problem, boss.”

  Twenty minutes later they squished into her car. “So you want to tell me what’s been eating at you all day?”

  Betsy’s question jarred her. Apparently she hadn’t hidden her tension well. “I’m under the weather.”

  “I don’t know why you even came in. Corporate gives us sick days for a reason. Not like you had a bunch of appointments or anything.” She took a left fast enough to make the tires squeal. “Hey, did that guy ever call back? The one who wouldn’t give me his name?”

  Megan swallowed hard and checked her seat belt. “Nope.”

  Megan lurched back against the seat, then forward as Betsy slammed on the brakes, kicking up a cloud of asphalt dust. A white SUV nearly rear-ended them.

  Betsy shot her an apologetic grin. “Thought I should let those cutie-pies over there cross the street.”

  Megan followed her friend’s gaze to a group of barely legal guys stepping off the curb. One whistled toward the car.

  “Hey, baby,” Betsy shouted. As soon as the last man had cleared the car, she floored the accelerator.

  Megan gripped the door handle. “Friends of yours?” Checking the mirror, she noticed that SUV still behind them, but back a ways.

  “Not yet. But I think they were heading to Muldoon’s Pub. I’ll check it out after I drop you.” She whipped her head toward Megan. “Unless you’re in the mood to join me. What do you say? Girls’ night out?”

  “I’m not up for it t
onight. But thanks. Be careful. There are a lot of creeps in the world.” Like the murderer. He was still out there, maybe watching her right this minute. She shivered.

  Betsy waved her hand in the air dismissively and breezed through a yellow light. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I know how to take care of myself.”

  Megan hoped she protected herself better than she drove. Betsy sped into Megan’s neighborhood, took the right onto her street, then steered into her driveway and jerked to a stop. Good thing no kids were outside playing in the road.

  “Wow. Thanks for the lift. I never expected it to be such an adventure.” Megan grasped her purse, relieved to have survived the trip. A few raindrops splattered against the windshield. She looked toward the sky and noticed dark clouds gathering.

  “I believe driving should be a memorable experience. What’s that German word? Farfignewton?”

  Megan chuckled as she climbed out of the car. “I think that’s a cookie, hon. Please be careful. There’s a storm on the way.” She scanned the street, but the SUV wasn’t around.

  Betsy waved before peeling out of the driveway.

  Megan retrieved her mail from the box, then hurried inside and locked the door. The house seemed too quiet, too lonely. As if something was missing.

  Will.

  No. She refused to grow too used to having him around. He was protecting her until they sorted out this whole mess, no more. She turned on a light, set her purse on a table, then shuffled through the mail. The red blinking light on the answering machine caught her eye. She hit the button.

  “Megan, this is Gram. Thought you’d be by to see me yesterday, but I guess you was too busy. I just worry about you, darlin’ girl.”

  She cringed at the unspoken admonishment and picked up the phone to call the assisted-living center. Her grandmother answered, her voice more shaky than usual.

  “Gram, it’s me. How are you?”

  “Hello, sweet girl.” Her tone perked up. “I’m fine, honey. I expected your usual visit yesterday. But I know that job of yours keeps you busy. I was just concerned.”

  Her chest tightened. “I’m so sorry, Gram. I had a late appointment. But I promise I’ll come by for a visit tomorrow.” She mentally ticked off her to-do list.