Read Eye of the Abductor Online

Authors: Elaine Meece

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

Eye of the Abductor (3 page)

Damn it.

 He returned to his apartment and
turned his television all the way up.

***

Saturday night when he escorted
his date up the stairs, Allison’s lights were out. Good, maybe she’d sleep through
any noise. His voluptuous blonde date, Tammy smelled like stout lilac-scented
room spray and had kept a hand on his crotch most of the night. No doubt he’d
score. With a badge bunny, it was almost a sure thing. Good thing, he'd picked
up condoms.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Tammy
asked the minute she entered his apartment.

“There.”

“Let’s go.”

Tammy stripped off her clothes
faster than he could’ve peeled a banana. She climbed in his bed, striking a
sexy pose.

He didn’t waste any time joining
her. While she performed one of her many talents, he groaned. Then the bathroom
toilet flushed beneath his apartment.
Ah-hell.
Miss Davenport was awake.
She’d be listening.

He pushed Tammy back. “Think we
could go to your place?”

“Absolutely not. My mother is
babysitting.”

Okay, he did what any red-blooded
American male would do. He blocked any more thoughts of the lady downstairs and
enjoyed what Tammy had to offer.

As he was nearing his climax,
someone banged on his door. He pushed Tammy back and hopped from the bed,
slipped his jeans on, and hurried to the door. Maybe there had been an
emergency at the department. Had his phone been turned off?

When he opened the door, Miss
Davenport stood before him, wearing a blue pastel robe that revealed the upper
portion of her breasts. He forced his gaze away from her cleavage. Her hair
appeared wild and untamed as the evening breeze tossed it about. He smelled her
faintly sweet fragrance. An image of them making love flashed through his mind.

“I can’t sleep,” she snapped. “Could
you please keep it down?”

“It’d be over by now if you hadn’t
interrupted. Now we have to start over.”

“Start over at her place.”

“Can’t.” He thought of something.
“Wait here.” He returned with his headset he used for target practice at the
range. “Sleep with this on. You won’t hear a sound.”

“I can’t sleep with something that
bulky on my head.”

“You’re unreasonable.”

"Me?" She grabbed the
headset from him, then stomped down the stairs toward her apartment. Her door
slammed.

When he returned to his bedroom,
Tammy had dressed. “I told my mother I’d be home by twelve-thirty.”

“Maybe we can try this again next
week."

She shrugged.

"I wasn't my best tonight.
That lady downstairs is driving me crazy.”

“Then maybe she should be up here
instead of me.”

“Not that kind of crazy,” he lied.

After driving his date home, he
sat on the sofa with his head leaned back and stared at the ceiling. He was
thirty-four and had never been married. Though he’d been engaged once. For a
moment, he allowed himself to think about Carla. He’d loved her, truly loved
her.

A flicker of pain caught in his
throat when he recalled her breaking their engagement to marry his older brother.
Their betrayal still hurt, still pissed him off. He wouldn’t go there. Not
tonight.

Instead, Tammy’s suggestion
swirled around in his mind. He couldn’t forget how outright radiant Allison appeared
standing in his doorway, like a fiery Celtic Goddess. He wanted her in his bed.

***

“I found Paige Wilson."

“You sure? My informant said she's
still in Kansas.”

“Positive. I didn’t recognize her
at first. Her hair’s longer and darker. Goes by Allison Davenport now. Told you
she’d come back for the kid.”

“How do we force her to talk?”

“I’ll have to give it more
thought. But for now we’ll just keep her in sight.”

“Don’t sit on your ass too long.
If Escobar reaches her first, we’ll never get our hands on the money.”

Chapter Two

Sunday morning, Allison jerked the
headset off and made a dash to the shower. No doubt she was going to be late.
Once ready, she locked her door and cut across the parking lot to her old
Dodge. Autumn leaves scurried under her feet.

While driving, she thought
about Little Pals' Daycare where Nathan attended. Following her
ex-mother-in-law Friday had gone off without a hitch.

The daycare’s playground
backed up to a shopping center where she could park without being conspicuous.

In the choir room, she slipped her
robe on and joined the others as they entered the choir loft. During the minister’s
sermon, Nathan dominated her thoughts.

She needed money. Clean, honest
money. At the rate she was earning, Nathan would be in junior high before she’d
have enough to sue for custody. What career didn’t require a background check
yet still offered the potential for making big money?

Any job she took needed to be as
respectable as her teaching job had been. She doubted such a job existed.

Think. Think. Think.

There has to be something.

As if it had floated down from
heaven, Allison had an answer. She'd check into it that week. Her uncle had
made a fortune in the business.

After church, she pulled into her
usual parking spot. Brance Stone worked on the jeep he kept parked by the Crown
Victoria. Hoping he wouldn't notice her, she skirted past him.

“Mind if I get my headset back?”

She stopped and faced him.
"No, I'll get it."

He wore faded jeans and a white
T-shirt, giving him the James Dean-bad-boy-look. He wiped his greasy hands on a
rag and followed her. He smelled like sweat, oil, and man. She’d intended for
him to wait outside, but instead, he entered her apartment behind her.

"Where's the furniture?"

She ignored his question and
offered him the headset. “I actually used it. It worked.”

“I don’t think the noise will be a
problem from now on.”

“Really? Have you declared a vow
of celibacy?”

“Nah, actually Tammy made a
suggestion.”

“Tammy? Your date last night?”

“Yep.”

"And just what did she
suggest?"

He flashed a heated look. “That I
should date you.”

Her cheeks burned, and sensual
heat funneled through her, turning her insides to cotton candy. The damn fantasy
popped into her mind, and she recalled how sexy he’d sounded in the heat of
passion. Hot and all male. She started to speak but had no voice.

***

Since the lady hadn’t replied,
Brance figured he’d take it a step further. “You want to take in a movie next
weekend? We can start slow.”

“No thanks,” she said, looking
bored.

“How ‘bout a Tiger's football
game?”

“I don’t care for football.”

“I could get tickets to a play or
something a bit more chick-friendly.”

“What part of
no
do you not
understand?”     

“Are you dating someone?”

“No. I don’t date men.”

“Oh, I see. Sorry. I didn’t
realize you’re a lesbian.”

“I’m not. I just don’t date
period. I don’t need any distractions.”

Now that she’d rejected him,
Brance found her even more intriguing. “So, I'd be a distraction, huh. Why's
that?”

“You're a player. Besides, I don't
date cops.”

“Cops? What’s wrong with us?”

“Everything. Just leave. I’ll be
taking a class soon and holding down two jobs. I don’t have the time.”

"I see. Well then, I'd better
go."

So much for seducing Allison
Davenport. The woman was harder to reach than the inside of Fort Knox. Her
heart had to be made out of reinforced, galvanized steel.

Someone hurt her.

He left her apartment and walked
back to his jeep. All his concentration should be focused on a string of
pharmacy burglaries, but instead, he couldn't stop thinking of Allison. She’d
piqued his curiosity. He wanted to learn more about this aloof woman. Since
he’d totally screwed it up with her, he’d send her flowers. What woman didn’t
like roses?

 

***

 

Allison pulled away from the college
campus and drove toward Bartlett. The Tuesday and Thursday evening real estate
class worked well with her already impossible schedule.

She glanced at the textbook in the
seat beside her and wondered if she’d made the right decision. It all depended
on whether the economy and housing market would pick up by the time she
completed her class and passed the state exam. She'd spoken to several
companies who said the housing market would make a full recovery. She hoped so.

She glanced in her rearview
mirror. A gold sedan had been behind her since leaving the campus. The tinted
windows prevented her from seeing who drove the car. Was it following her?

Tension tightened her muscles.

Don’t do this to yourself. Stop
freaking out.

No one but Jill knew she was back.
When the sedan exited onto the expressway ramp, she exhaled a deep sigh of
relief.

Allison turned into the complex
parking lot. She drove around the florist truck parked in the drive. A man with
a lovely flower arrangement stood at her door.

She grabbed her purse and hurried
to her apartment. “May I help you?”

“I have a delivery for Allison
Davenport.”

“That’s me.”

He handed her the two-dozen long
stemmed roses arranged with twigs of baby’s breath and leather leaf. She
breathed in the fragrance of the roses. Who would send her roses? She carried
the vase inside, set it on the kitchen counter, removed the card, and read it
aloud.

“Sorry for the things I said.
Let’s be friends. Brance."

Yeah, right. Like that’s going
to happen.

Instead of smiling, she frowned.
Uneasiness swam in her stomach like a piranha. The last thing she needed was a
cop for a buddy. Once he connected her with Rob and what had gone down, he’d
despise her like every other policeman who knew.

The phone rang, and she answered
it. "Hello."

No one spoke, but she could hear
someone breathing. Then the line went dead. She used call return but the number
was blocked.

Relax.

It was probably a wrong number.

***

Brance stared at the vase of roses
sitting outside his door before snatching up the note.

    

Detective Stone. Thank you. The
flowers are lovely, but I can’t accept them. I’m not in a position to have a
relationship with you or anyone. However, I will try to be a better neighbor,
like exercising earlier as you suggested. Thanks again. Give the roses to Tammy.
Allison.

 

He blew out a frustrated breath.
The lady had already made it clear she wasn’t interested, so he couldn’t be
angry. He lifted the heavy vase and headed for his car.

At his parents’ home, he tapped on
the back door. When his mother answered, she smiled at the sight of the
flowers. “It’s not my birthday. What’s the occasion?”

“There's not one. As much as I
spent on these, I hated to toss them, so I thought you might want them.”

She smiled. "You bought them
for a lady, and she didn't want them?"

“I guess roses aren’t her thing.”

“Mine either. Always makes the
house smell like a funeral parlor. I’ll take them to the church.” She took the
vase from him. “Come on in.”

"Larry stopped by. Any reason
you don't want Dad going on that hunting trip with him?"

"I've never been fond of
Larry. For one thing, he drinks too much. Your dad and I have an Alaskan cruise
booked for July. We want to see it together for the first time."

"Understandable."

"Your dad's in the den. Go on
back."

He found his dad sitting in the
leather recliner with the newspaper sprawled across his lap, glasses resting on
the tip of his nose. The house smelled of pipe tobacco and Ben Gay.

“Anything worth reading?” He sat
on the sofa across from his father.

When his dad glanced up, he
scowled for a moment. “No, just more crooked politicians. Damn bastards keep
trying to cheat cops out of their full retirement.”

His mother entered the room and
sat beside Brance. “Tell me more about the woman who returned your roses.”

"She lives in the apartment
directly below mine. I've asked her out but..."

“She turned you down.”

"Yep. You know how women
think. Got any suggestions?"

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