Dangerous Kisses Page 11

  He grabbed the mail from his in box, chucking a third of it into the trash. When he reached an envelope from the FBI, however, he tossed the rest of the papers aside. His heart rate increased as he slid the contents from the envelope. Maybe the profile would help narrow their search to a point where they could make some decent headway. If they caught this guy, Sydney would be safe.

  And he might never see her again.

  Well, he was willing to pay that price. It wasn’t as if he was making it easy to see her anyway.

  He scanned through the profile, then went back and read it more carefully. White male, early 20s to early 40s, intelligent, likely follows press coverage of his crimes.

  Jake tensed as he thought of Sydney’s byline on all that coverage. He continued reading.

  Victims likely strangers or casual acquaintances. Although it’s probably not apparent in his everyday life, he has a deep-seated problem with women.

  Jake forced himself to examine the rest of the profile, and his skin crawled more with each sentence.

  The signature with the chocolates and the posing of the victims in the nude is his final act of control over the women he kills. The similar physical description of victims indicates they are a substitute for someone in his past who hurt him or angered him to a point he swore revenge. But none of the victims are the person he’s looking for so he doesn’t find lasting satisfaction and continues to kill. All actions indicate he falls into the organized serial killer category.

  After reading through the profile a third time, Jake tossed it onto his desk. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his face. Hell, what did he know now that he hadn’t ten minutes ago? Excluding the signature specifics, which still didn’t give him a lead on the guy’s identity, the profile basics fit the majority of serial killers across the country. Still, he should run it past Sydney, see if by some miracle the dry facts caused something to click in her head.

  He dialed her number but only got her voice mail, a new, nondescript greeting. "I’m not here. Leave a message." She sure sounded perturbed. He wondered if it was because of him.

  Figuring she was on her way to work, he decided to call her there. But when he lifted the receiver to his ear, he decided to punch the voice mail button first. That blinking red light drove him crazy.

  After jotting down messages on a couple of other cases and one from his mother, he froze. The killer’s muffled voice assaulted him.

  "Hello, Radley. Did you have a nice time beating the bushes for me?"

  Jake’s blood ran cold. The bastard had been out there, watching Sydney even when she thought she was safe. His stomach churned at the thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t been at her apartment.

  A pause made Jake wonder if the killer was finished speaking, but then the man’s disguised voice came again, angrier than before.

  "I don’t know what they see in men like you, the ones who think they’re God’s gift to women. But you haven’t had her yet, have you?" A low chuckle sent shivers racing across Jake’s skin. "I will."

  The call ended so suddenly, Jake jumped.

  "Hey, man, what’s wrong?" O’Malley’s voice from behind him made him jump again.

  For a moment, Jake stared like an idiot at Kevin, trying to let what he’d just heard soak in. Instead of answering, he simply replayed the message, this time on speaker.

  "Damn," Kevin said when the message finished. "This guy is messed up."

  "I have a feeling his patience is running thin."

  Kevin sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. "Is there something going on between you and Sydney?"

  "No."

  "Are you sure about that? Sounds like our guy knows something I don’t."

  "Trust me, nothing’s going on," Jake said in a curt response that invited no further questioning.

  "Whatever you say." Kevin slid off the desk. "What are you going to do? We already have her under watch. You can’t exactly take her into protective custody without her permission. And for some reason, I don’t think she’s going to give that."

  Maybe all she needed was a little convincing, a narrowing of the options.

  "I’ll figure out something."

  Jake dialed Sydney’s cell phone only to get a busy signal. No surprise there. She was probably already hard at work running down leads before she even made it to the office.

  Maybe he could beat her there.

  As he drove across downtown toward the paper, his gut knotted. Despite his deliberate effort to distance himself from Sydney the night before, he didn’t look forward to the next few minutes. After he did what he felt he had to, she’d likely hate him and he’d never see her again. At least never hold her, kiss her, know what it’d be like to make love to her.

  And that was exactly what he’d thought about the previous night as he’d stared at the ceiling from his position on the couch. It had taken all of his willpower not to slip into her room, ask her forgiveness and make love to her until the sun rose. But his foray into the night chasing a killer hiding in the shadows had brought back his common sense. He could have been killed out there, could be gunned down any day like his father had been. And where would that leave Sydney if he allowed her to feel anything for him? She’d already lost her mother to violence. He couldn’t put her through that again.

  When he pulled up outside the newspaper office, he hesitated. She might hate him for interfering, but maybe she’d be safe and that was more important.

  With a deep breath, he got out of the car and headed across the parking lot.

  ****

  Sydney stared into the snack machine, trying to decide between a somewhat healthy granola bar or the more attractive package of chocolate-covered doughnuts. She dropped her money in and punched the appropriate buttons. Definitely a doughnut morning.

  With her doughnuts in one hand and a Coke in the other, she headed for her desk. The only cure for what ailed her this morning was to dive into work and forget Detective Jake Radley had ever walked into her life. She didn’t know why he would kiss her one moment and pretend it hadn’t happened the next, but she didn’t really care about the why. He could eat his reasons for all she cared.

  "You missed your boyfriend," Becky said as Sydney walked by her friend’s desk.

  "What?"

  "Radley, he just left."

  Despite her determination to wipe him from her mind, her heart boomed against her chest. "He was here?"

  "Yeah. Saw him come out of Bill’s office as I walked in the front door."

  Bill? Oh, no. Sydney spun around just in time to see her editor stick his head out of his office and scan the newsroom.

  "Sydney, you’re here. Come on in."

  What had Jake done? Complained to her boss about her stories? Had she gotten some fact wrong and instead of coming to her, Jake had decided to go over her head to avoid talking to her?

  She set her breakfast on the edge of Becky’s desk and headed toward Bill’s office.

  She forced a bright cheeriness into her voice she didn’t feel. "Hey, what’s up?"

  Bill pointed toward the worn couch against the wall. "Have a seat."

  A feeling of foreboding rushed over her as she sank onto the couch. It was reserved for firings, employee reviews and other types of uncomfortable conversations, so whatever Bill had to say now couldn’t be good.

  "What’s wrong?"

  Bill leaned back in his chair but didn’t look her in the eye. Fidgeting, he appeared as uncomfortable as she felt. "Detective Radley just came to see me."

  "If he’s complaining about my coverage of this killer, you know we can’t tiptoe around the issues."

  "It wasn’t that exactly."

  "What do you mean ‘exactly’?"

  Bill made eye contact with her then. "He’s concerned for your safety."

  "Jeez, Louise."

  "Sydney, is what he told me true? Have you received communications from the killer?"

  Her nerves roiled in her stomach.
Was Bill angry because she’d held back information he thought she should have reported? Was she being fired after all?

  Sydney exhaled and leaned back against the couch. "Yes."

  Bill slammed his thick hand against his desk, making Sydney jump. "Damn, why didn’t you tell me? You’re a great reporter, Sydney, but I sure as hell don’t want you putting yourself in that kind of danger."

  "I’m careful. Besides, Radley’s got one of Nashville’s finest tailing me everywhere I go."

  "Good. And until this guy is caught, I want you off the story. Lord knows there’s enough other crime to report on."

  Sydney jerked forward, her face heating and her insides twisting. "You can’t do that."

  "I just did. It’s for your own good."

  "Did he tell you to pull me? Did that bastard tell you to do this?"

  "No. He just wanted me to be aware of the facts so we could alert our building security. This is my decision. Other editors might disagree, but a story is not worth a reporter’s life."

  "But I’ve already been targeted. Why does it matter if I keep working on the story?"

  Bill held up his hand. "Don’t argue. You can swap stories with someone else."

  Just like that, what little control she had over the situation was ripped right out of her grasp. White-hot fury surged through her. She stood. Through clenched teeth, she said, "There’s a story on the network I thought might interest you. Now I don’t know." She stormed from the office aiming to do serious damage to Jake Radley. He might not have suggested her change in assignment, but he’d sure as hell caused it.

  "Sydney, what’s wrong?" Becky asked as she caught up to Sydney outside the front door.

  Sydney fought to tamp down the anger making her clench her jaw and ball her fists. "Bill took me off the story."

  "About the killer? Why?"

  "Because Bill’s a wuss."

  Becky’s eyes widened. "Was it something Radley said?"

  "Oh yeah."

  "I can’t imagine Bill caving to the cops. He’s a good journalist, a tough one." When Sydney didn’t answer, just continued to fume, Becky touched her shoulder. "What’s going on?"

  "Nothing I can’t fix."

  "Stop it." Irritation tinged Becky’s words. "I’m supposed to be your friend. Why don’t you stop hiding things and let me be one?"

  Sydney stared at Becky and let a bit of the anger flow away. It would be nice to be able to talk to someone about all the crazy things tying her life in knots, another woman.

  She sank onto the concrete bench mainly used by the paper’s smokers and told Becky everything — from the moment she’d met Jake at the crime scene to the scare they’d had the night before. Though her face flamed feverishly hot, she even told Becky about the kisses they’d shared and the confusion Jake had introduced into her normally ordered life.

  After she finished, Becky sat speechless for several seconds before responding. "Wow, that’s a lot of stuff to happen in a week."

  "Tell me about it."

  "I can understand why you’re angry."

  "Thank you." Sydney threw her hands up in the air. "Finally, someone with some sense."

  "You won’t want to hear this, but I understand Jake’s point of view, too."

  "What?"

  Becky turned to fully face her. "Think about it. Two women have been killed, it sounds like they don’t have any leads, and the woman he’s at least physically attracted to seems to be next on the list. How do you think that makes him feel?"

  "I don’t know."

  "Come on, Sydney. You’re a great reporter. I know you can figure this bit of human nature out."

  "Okay, okay. I guess he feels a little helpless. But, my God, he’s got a cop watching my every move." She pointed at the patrolman across the street. "He may feel helpless, but I do too. Not to mention trapped. Work was the only thing I had left over which I had any control. Now I don’t even have that. What am I supposed to do?"

  "Take Radley to the Bahamas and make love on the beach for a solid week?"

  Sydney’s mouth dropped open at her friend’s suggestion. "Have you not heard a word I said? He’s arrogant, pushy and—"

  "And sexy as sin. And that voice. Have you ever heard such a rumbling, rolling-in-sheets thing in your life? I think he can satisfy women just by talking to them."

  Sydney took a deep breath. "Be that as it may, I have no intention of getting naked anywhere near him."

  "That’s a shame."

  "Becky, what’s gotten into you?"

  "You might not think I’ve been listening, but I have. And it sounds to me like Jake is fighting the same demon you are. You’re both attracted, but for whatever reason you’re afraid to indulge that attraction."

  "It wouldn’t go anywhere."

  "How will you know if you don’t try?"

  "I did, and he walked away."

  "Maybe that’s where you can get back some of your control. Refuse to let him walk away."

  After Becky went back inside, Sydney sat on the bench a little longer, staring at the cars whizzing by. It scared her how much Becky’s suggestion tempted her. Was she willing to risk her heart, her security, her control in an effort to convince Jake to take a chance with her? How could she tell if he was even interested?

  Okay, there were some tender moments and some mighty hot kisses, but those could have been manifested by the moonlight. People acted differently at night only to morph back into their normal selves the next morning.

  Only one way to find out. Corner him during the day and demand to know how he felt. No more avoidance. No more vagueness.

  She raced to her car, then zigged and zagged through traffic as she headed toward Jake’s office.

  "I’m here to see Detective Radley," she told the guard in the lobby of the criminal justice building when she arrived.

  "Is he expecting you?"

  "Not really."

  "Your name?" he asked, although she was fairly certain he knew it.

  "Sydney Blackburn."

  "Just a moment."

  He turned his back to her as he dialed Jake’s extension. She crossed her arms and let her gaze drift around the lobby.

  The guard turned back to face her. "He won’t be able to see you. He’s tied up."

  Well, she couldn’t very well barge into Jake’s office since the doorway required card access. She gritted her teeth in frustration as she exited the building. She pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed Jake’s number. Busy.

  Temporarily foiled, she drove back to the paper and spent the rest of the day plugging away at two stories that made her feel like a rookie reporter — one about a holdup at a smoke shop and another on a shots fired incident in the projects north of the river. By the time her workday ended, she was more than ready to leave.

  "Want to have dinner with me and Chris tonight?" Becky asked as they walked out together.

  "No, thanks. I think I need to just go home and sleep for about twelve hours."

  When they reached her car, Becky surprised Sydney by wrapping her in a tight hug. "You need anything, you just call, okay?"

  "Thanks, but I’m fine, really."

  As she drove home with her patrolman tail in her rearview mirror, however, she found the thought of solitude not as comforting as it’d always been. She’d continued calling Jake’s office throughout the day with the same results. He was either on the phone or out of the office. Well, he had to come home sometime. She might not have full daylight to her advantage, but if she didn’t confront Jake today she was going to drive herself mad wondering.

  When she reached the marina and stepped onto Jake’s boat to wait, she didn’t figure it’d take long for her escort to report in to the good detective. But as the minutes ticked by, she began to wonder if Jake aimed to let her sit there alone all night. Did he really want to avoid her enough to not come home? If so, why the heck was she making a fool of herself by waiting for him?

  After two hours, she’d had enough. She rose to h
er feet, fully aiming to go home and soak in a steamy hot tub. But then a pair of headlights entered the parking lot. When the driver extinguished them, she recognized the car.

  She’d rehearsed her speech a thousand times, but it took a dive overboard, leaving her with her pulse vibrating a heavy staccato and her palms sweaty despite the cool night air. As she watched him walk slowly toward the boat, her mouth went dry and her skin tingled. She was in over her head.

  "You’re persistent," he said when he reached the boat.

  "And you’re hard to track down."

  "Here I am."

  Yes, he was, every wonderful, delectable inch of him. Oh, heavens.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sydney took a deep breath to calm her racing pulse. Until she knew where she stood, she didn’t want Jake to know he held that kind of power over her, the ability to make her mouth water and her muscles tighten with expectation.

  She retreated toward familiar territory, although she questioned him in a more combative tone than she intended. "What gave you the right to go behind my back and talk to my editor?"

  Jake’s shoulders rose and fell as he sighed. Without responding, he took the last few steps into the boat and moved down into the cabin. She followed, frustration mounting.

  "You didn’t answer my question."

  "I don’t see where it’s a problem. Every bit of protection helps." He pulled a Mountain Dew from the refrigerator.

  "Bill pulled me from the story. You knew it meant a lot to me."

  His gaze connected with hers, tired but stunning. And surprised. "I didn’t make your editor remove you. I just told him the facts. Although you might be safer working on another story." He moved a couple of steps closer to her without breaking eye contact. "Don’t you realize how much danger you’re in, after everything that’s happened?"

  "I’m not stupid. I could have continued working on the story without putting myself in any more danger. I mean, you guys are watching me like a hawk. If I back down and quit doing my job, that makes me a victim. He’s won."

  "No. You’ll be a victim if you end up raped and murdered, your body dumped in the woods."