Hard Days Knight: Under-Cover Knights, Book 1 (17 page)

D
elilah locked
her car and walked toward Luc’s front door, scanning the parking lot and entrances to the other homes. A narrow strip of grass ran between the sidewalk and the facade of the structure. She spotted something in front of the window to Luc’s foyer. Half a cigarette lay smashed at the entryway. She made another sweep of the area then knocked on his door.

“Delilah?” he asked through the door, as she’d instructed. Good boy.

“It’s me. Open the door but don’t step out.”

When he appeared in the doorway in his t-shirt and
Saints
sweatpants, she pointed at the cigarette. “Was that there when you got home?”

He squatted down and looked at the debris on his step, looked at her grimly. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I’ll be right back.” Opening the trunk of her car she took out a tote bag with an emergency kit. She dropped it next to the porch and pulled out a flashlight, a baggy and a small sealed broom and dustpan. Pulling on latex gloves, she used tweezers to pick up the cigarette and as much of the contents as possible. Holding it up so Luc could see the lipstick ring around the filter end, she asked, “Know any women who smoke?”

He shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”

She placed the cigarette in the bag and laid it on the grass while she swept the rest of the step and the immediate area for evidence placing her collection of dirt in a second bag. She held it up to the light but didn’t see anything distinguishable, like a hair. “Okay, I’ll stash this in my car. Be right back.”

He stood in the hallway holding the door then locked it behind her. “I’m getting creeped out here.”

She hugged him tightly. “You’re allowed.” She walked into the living room but looked back at the bare window overlooking the front walkway. “Why don’t we go to another room? Your office?”

“The nook in the kitchen? How about some coffee?” he asked. She recognized his agitation as that of someone who is good at controlling what happens in his life and suddenly he feels powerless. She vowed that he would not feel like a victim much longer.

“Coffee sounds good. Can I help?” Maybe putting some munchies together would get his mind off the intruder. She followed him into the kitchen. “I should still be full after all we ate yesterday and then eating at the mission today, but I could snack a little. Got any fruit or cheese and crackers? Anything like that will do.”

It worked. He turned the coffee maker on and bent to look in the refrigerator. Together they chopped apples, plucked grapes and sliced cheese. He ate cottage cheese straight out of the container.

“Yuck, how can you eat it like that?”

He smiled, “The sacrifices I make so my girlfriend will want to run her hands over my body, what can I say?” He poured them each a mug of coffee and they sat tucked in the secluded corner of the kitchen, which couldn’t be seen through any of the windows.

“So how did it go with Tommy today?” he asked.

Del smiled, leaning back as she nibbled on a grape. She’d totally told a lie. She was so full she couldn’t bear to think of eating the fruit in front of them. She was hoping he’d eat most of it. “I’m no longer the black sheep.”

“Aw, you were never that.”

“Well, let’s just say I don’t feel like one anymore. Tommy and I had a really good talk. When did you meet my brother, Luc?”

“I met him three years ago when I came home on leave. There was a hit and miss group meeting at the gym then. It was in bad shape. I had the idea for revamping it and went to him to see if he thought it would work. He was very enthusiastic about the possibilities and the impact it could make on some of the kids—offering resources, encouragement, eventually more.”

“That would have been after he was trained to live on his own and took over the church, right?”

“Yes. The following year I made a proposal to him. I had one year left on my tour. If he could generate interest and work with Ridge to oversee the renovations, I’d send him the money. Your brother knows how to get things done. Well, you can see that by his Feed Larue campaign.”

“You should feel great about what you’ve accomplished so far. I sense you’re making some real headway with these teens.”

“I want to do more. Offer more. Give them better options.” He ran his hands through his hair. “You want to do everything all at once, adopt them, give them everything. But you have to take it in baby steps, gain their trust, show the community you’re here to stay. And they have to take on responsibility gradually. It hasn’t been an overnight success and really is on shaky legs at this point. I sure don’t need anymore incidents.”

“What do you mean? Like the flower pot—”

“No, I wasn’t thinking about that. About a month and a half ago, someone broke in and left drug paraphernalia, even a few contaminated needles in one of the rooms. Someone tipped the police department that there were drugs being used by the kids. The police didn’t buy it, thank God, but it still caught the attention of some of the agencies, who marched in wanting confirmation that it’s a clean facility.

“I wanted to ask where they’d been when we were looking for support and funding. Oh well, that’s old news. Things have been good until the flower pot incident and no teens were hurt…”

Del’s mind was working. “Has anything else happened in the last couple months that was out of the norm?”

Luc tapped his fingers on the table, eyes narrowing as he went over the last several months. “You know the traffic stop you mentioned in your office? That was last month. Someone called my plate in and said I was all over the road, speeding and driving erratically, like I was drunk. Two troopers pulled me over and I, uh, might have been in costume that day. They gave me a sobriety test and couldn’t find any reason to hold me. Didn’t even breathalyze me. I just assumed it was a mistake.”

Del watched his eyes narrow as something else hit him. He started checking off invisible points on the table with his index finger. “What else?”

“Damn, I feel like a fool. Two months ago someone got on my Martial Arts studio’s FB page and started slamming my training, suggesting I might have a sexual interest in the boys. Then I got some blocked text messages that I thought it were related to that.” Luc sat forward, his face animated as he put the pieces together.

“And on the second of last month, my electricity was turned off. I assumed,” he grit his teeth, “that word again, that it was a mistake. They said I emailed and said I was going on an extended vacation.

“And remember, someone sent me flowers and didn’t sign the card at the hospital. But the biggie,” his eyes were wide, “someone broke in two months ago. Stole a couple pieces of jewelry—I couldn’t find anything else missing. I put the security system in then.”

She put her pencil and pad down. “Luc, one or two of these events might have been coincidental, but taken as a whole, it’s a pattern. Do you have a calendar?” He got up and she said, “Stay away from the windows.” He opened the door at the end of the kitchen into his office and returned with his calendar. He’d already marked the break-in and the appointment with his security company. “Is there anything else you can think of?”

He blew out a breath and sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. The morning after our date I was looking down at the sidewalk, getting my keys out, and Mercy was suddenly standing there. I didn’t even hear her.”

“Mercy,” Del guessed.

“She said she was jogging down the street and saw me;
said
she came by to invite me to an event at Wexler the following Saturday. I told her I had plans. She got in my space and asked me who my plans were with. I told her it was none of her business.” Luc’s eyes narrowed. “She said she could ‘satisfy me a helluva lot better than a certain lady cop’.”

He paced. “Damn it. I wondered how she knew about you. I—don’t hit me—I assumed she was just going on instinct after she’d met you Friday.”

“And the next morning, your tires were slashed.”

“Yeah.” He flopped back against the chair. “And the capper… I haven’t had any mail in a week.”

Del’s pen paused on the calendar. Her mind was whirling, “Question. What was the deal with the cobbler in the trash can?”

He looked at the ceiling, “God, I’m feeling stupid.” Luc propped his elbows on the table, his eyes intent on Del’s. “The day after I came home from the hospital, after you left for work, Mercy brought me a cobbler. She pushed in past me before I could stop her. Took the cobbler to the kitchen, stalled, looking around until I ushered her out. I… had a nightmare about her cooking over a cauldron and dipping up dead things. I threw it out. That’s when I swore off the painkillers.”

Delilah jotted the last two events on the calendar. “It’s her, Luc.
And,
if you look at the pattern here,” she moved her finger across the dates, “it’s accelerating.

“What do you have though that can prove she did any of this?” he asked.

She thought about that. What did she have? A piece of thread, a shoe cast. “Maybe DNA off the cigarette if it’s hers. I’m betting it’s hers.”

“I’ll call Ridge in the morning.”

“Call him now.”

Ridge wanted to drive over to Luc’s but Del didn’t want to tip Mercy off.

“I’m sorry, Luc.” A sigh came through the speaker in Luc’s office. Luc’s eyebrows went up as he met Del’s alert gaze. “The day I talked to Mercy she said…damn!”

Del said, “Let me guess, Ridge. Mercy told you she and Luc were lovers, or are currently. Right?”

“Yes. It’s not that I believed her, Luc, though she was very convincing. There was a chance that it was true, but my goal was to make her obey company policy. You have to admit she’s been a professional since Monday.”

“For the record, Ridge, there’s never, not ever, and never would be, anything between me and that—” he looked at Del, his jaw rigid.

Luc leaned forward toward the speaker. “I believe Mercy is responsible for a series of attacks on Luc’s property and person. We don’t have proof but we have two months worth of documentation that with just one break could be tied together. Is there a way you can search Mercy’s dressing room?”

“Yes, we have a policy that states anything left in a dressing room is the property of the studio; we supply costumes, makeup, styling tools.”

“Use gloves. Find something with her prints, maybe a drink can—”

“The cleaning people have been in today…”

“What time is she supposed to be there tomorrow?”

“Nine o’clock. She and Luc are supposed to do those stock photo shots.”

“Okay, forget everything I just said. You and Luc keep her busy in the studio while I search the dressing room. I know what to look for.”

“That won’t be legal will it?” Luc asked.

“Right now, I’m going for something that will tie everything together, and leverage.”

“What do you want to do about Mercy, Luc?” Ridge asked.

“Well, I don’t want to ever see her again much less work with her, if that’s what you mean.”

“I need something more than just your word to fire her,” Ridge said. “Legally I mean. She’s got our balls by the—sorry, Del.”

“She’s a classic psychopath, Ridge. She preys on good people and knows how to use the law to her benefit. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to bring her ass down. You won’t have to fire her.”

Neither man commented.

“We’ll see you in the morning, Ridge. Make sure everything seems normal. Don’t talk to anyone about this but Buffy.”

“You got it.”

Luc leaned back against the love seat in his office, rubbing his shoulder, his face haggard. “What next?”

Del knew from experience how a person could be affected by stalking. Luc would resist a lecture on PTSD. “How about a nice bubble bath?”

“I don’t take bath—ahh.” His face brightened as Del unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it on the love seat. “But I can see where it might appeal.”

Del picked up his hand and said, “I like it nice and hot.”

Before they got to top of the stairs, she was naked. They never made it to the bathroom.

T
hursday morning
, Del brought Jed up to date on her suspicions, making copies of the calendar and passing the evidence collected at Luc’s on to her partner.

“I’ll take the cigarette to the lab and talk to the lab tech about the tires. You’ll be at the studio?” asked Jed.

Del looked at her watch. “I told Luc and Ridge I’d be in the parking lot in my personal vehicle at nine. They’re going to call me when the shoot starts and keep her busy until I’m done. I’ll owe Luc big after making him act like he’s enjoying Mercy’s company.”

“Del, I say he’s the one who owes you.”

“Yeah, you know the difference; it’s our job.”

D
elilah waited impatiently
in her car. At nine-ten her phone rang. She shut her door before she answered it, “Burke.”

Ridge said, “The shoot’s on. I’m at the back door.”

Ridge led Del to the dressing room. “She was late getting dressed and out of the dressing room. We’ll keep her occupied until ten. She’s used to getting a break on the hour.”

“That’s plenty of time,” Del said and sat her bag down. Ridge left to watch the shoot. Clothing bulged on the rolling rack next to a set of bin style drawers. She carefully searched each one. They held frilly under garments, jewelry, costume parts? She looked for bottles or brushes, anything that would have fingerprints or DNA but found none, which she found suspicious. Turning to the costume rack near the back wall she checked her watch. Nine-fifty.

She made a circular sweep of the room and something bright caught her eye. Hanging on the back of the door was one of the brightest jogging suits she’d ever seen.
Oh, baby, that’s it.

As she walked toward the door, something brighter caught her eye, the air from the vent creating an intermittent effect. She moved a leaf away from the center of the hanging swag above the door. Shaking her head, she silently cursed. It was a red indicator light on a tiny video cam.
Damn, Delilah
. You should have anticipated this.

Mercy had shown that she was smart and could cover her tracks.
And
stalkers were notoriously paranoid. She studied the device. It was a cheap model available at any electronics store. It’s field of view was limited to what was directly in front which meant Mercy would soon view Del’s search of her room. They’d have to figure out a way to use this. Since it would be obvious anyway, maybe she should take the cam so Mercy couldn’t see exactly what Del had been searching for. On the other hand, Del hadn’t found anything except what was on the back of the door, and Mercy didn’t know about that. Maybe this could play in their favor.

Since the cam couldn’t record straight down, Del quickly unzipped the jacket and located some frayed fabric. On the inside seam Del wrapped several threads around her finger and pulled, coming away with enough to make a match with their sample. Depositing them in a bag and snapping a quick picture of the outfit from the side with her phone, she zipped it up, took one last scan of the room and let herself out.

M
ercy had apologized profusely
and sincerely for being late. The hour dragged. Luc gave her every opportunity to make moves on him, to touch him like she had before, but she kept more distance than usual from him. What was she doing? It was as if she knew what they were up to.

Roger directed Luc to unbutton his shirt and lean against the edge of the fake stone wall. Mercy was supposed to stand behind him and put her arms around his neck.

He felt the pressure of her breasts against his back as her arms draped around his shoulder. “I’m not hurting your bad shoulder am I, Luc?” The prop assistant turned the fan on to give the appearance of wind.

“I’m fine,” Luc gritted through his teeth.

Smiling for the camera as Roger moved around them, she finally made a move, speaking in low tones the fan noise obscured. “You might think I’ll just go away quietly, Luc, but that whore you’re sleeping with’s days are numbered. Sooner or later you’ll realize we’re soul mates and come back to me.”

“Good, Mercy,” said Roger. “Now put your hand in the center of his chest.”

Luc exploded out of her arms. “I have to go. Sorry, Roger. I forgot I have a Martial Arts appointment.”

Ridge looked at him with eyebrows raised. “Roger, why don’t you continue to work on Mercy’s stills. We can resume Luc’s shots tomorrow.”

He followed Luc out the door, jogging to catch up with him. “What was that all about?” Ridge asked.

Luc pushed through the back door into the parking lot. Delilah’s car was gone. He took deep breaths of fresh air. “Whatever you have to do, I want that bitch away from me. She knows we’re on to her. Don’t tell me how I know, I just do.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hope Del got something.”

Ridge thought a minute. “I can keep her busy doing shoots. I’ll play to her ego, tell her I’m behind and see if she wants to make overtime to work the rest of the day.”

“That should do it,” Luc said. “I’ll call you later, Ridge. I’m sorry about all of this.”

Ridge put his hand on Luc’s shoulder. “Hey. None of this is your fault. Whatever you and Del need, let me know.”

Luc felt like Mercy’s trap was closing in on him. He just hoped Del had some tricks up her sleeve.

“
I
’m kicking
myself right now, Jed. I should have seen that one coming. We’ve got to go in and sweep Luc’s house and his car. His house was broken into three months ago. I’m betting my badge it was Mercy, and I don’t believe this was her first rodeo with a surveillance device.”

“We still haven’t got anything we can use against her though,” Jed said.

Del’s phone rang. “Send him in.” Replacing the receiver, she said, “It’s Luc.”

Luc walked into their office. “What did you find?”

Delilah could tell Luc was rattled. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t do this any more. Play up to her, I mean. It’s like she knows—”

“She does. I found a video cam in her dressing room. When she looks at it, she’ll know I searched it.”

“Damn,” Luc turned, reaching his hand over his shoulder to squeeze the muscles of his neck. Her heart clenched seeing him like this. He didn’t deserve it. Of course, no victim did.

“She had a brand new brush, no makeup, no refreshment containers.”

“She knew we were on to her.”

Del said, “That’s not necessarily something new, Luc. These people get their kicks out of terrorizing their victims, flouting their ability to stay one step ahead of capture. She knows we don’t have anything on her. But we’ll figure out how to use this.” She held up her baggie with the thread in it.

“What is that?”

“Our one piece of evidence that could prove she attacked you. But we’ve got to be smart and stay ahead of her now. Jed is going to sweep your house, and since you’re here I’m going to have Steve go over your vehicle for bugs.”

“Do you think she heard our plans last night?” Luc asked.

“I’m not sure. She just may be operating out of an instinctual kind of paranoia. Jed and I busted a guy last year who had video surveillance cams and trip wires on every tree for a mile on the way into his place. We had to figure out how to get into and out of his base before he could destroy the evidence.”

Gail opened the door, apologizing. “Sorry, but I thought you’d want to see this. I crosschecked Mercy Love’s references. About five years ago, she worked for a very small studio as a receptionist. Myra Lowe ceased to exist and Mercy Love was born in her first porn flick.

“Myra Lowe has a record. Drug rehab, assault with a deadly weapon, stalking, sixty days in a mental facility. The deadly weapon? She stabbed her doctor with a spoon. In the back. They found him on the floor by her bed. Myra was just sitting up in bed flipping the TV channels with her remote. She ‘said’ she didn’t know what happened to him, but the blood told the tale.

“The stalking incident was her former boss. He said his wife left him after Mercy—Myra—told her he’d been having an affair with her, and he’d promised to get his wife out of the way so they could be together. She said, he was her ‘Soul Mate’.”

Luc shuddered. “That’s what she said to me this morning. She said, “his jaw clenched when he looked at Del, “my ‘whore’s days are numbered’ and I’d ‘realize we were soul mates and come back’ to her.” Luc eyes were haunted. “She’s nuts.” He blew out a measured breath.

“And very dangerous,” said Del. She hated what Mercy was doing to Luc. Del just hoped she got the opportunity for a little revenge, because in Mercy’s case justice seemed to be turning a blind eye repeatedly.

“Does Myra have any outstanding warrants?” she asked Gail.

Gail said, “I’m checking. There seems to be some confusion because of the name changes. I got her prints though.”

“Good job, Gail.” She took the file. Looking at Luc she said, “If we get lucky and match a print we might be able to get a warrant.” Del flipped through the file and retrieved a photo, “What do we have here? A picture of Myra, before the dye job and helllooo,” she winked at Jed and Luc, “the bust enhancement. I knew those things couldn’t be real.”