Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2 (3 page)

Despite her badge, at the moment she wasn't acting as an agent of the United States but as a woman obsessed with finding a killer who'd murdered her best friend.

Drew pushed away from the wall. “Where are you staying?”

She gave him the name of a popular hotel chain in downtown Vancouver, then followed him to his vehicle where she settled into the passenger seat and let her curiosity about the man driving prompt her to ask, “How long have you been with the RCMP?”

“I was born into it,” he said with a grin.

She made a face. “What?”

“My dad's a retired Mountie. For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

She wondered what Drew had been like as a kid. A strange tenderness filled her as she imagined a dark-haired boy hero-worshipping his father.

For the next ten minutes they chatted, keeping the conversation light and discovering similar tastes in movies and book genres. Drew followed the National Hockey League, while she could recite pro-football stats. She found him to be engaging and easy to be with. Strange considering their meeting. She'd have guessed they wouldn't find so much to talk about. But when it came right down to it, they were more alike than was comfortable but for some reason she didn't mind.

Drew pulled up in front of her hotel. Sami opened her door, grateful that for a few minutes she'd let herself be normal and been able to push thoughts of Birdman to the back burner. She had this man to thank. He'd made it easy to take a moment to breathe before she rushed back into her investigation. “Thank you for...well, everything.”

“My pleasure, Sami.”

When Drew turned off the engine, tension rushed into tight a knot in her tummy. It was one thing to let down her guard for the drive over but another completely for him to come to her hotel room door. “You don't have to walk me up.”

“I don't have to but it's the polite thing to do.” He climbed from the vehicle before she could protest further.

Nerves on the edge of snapping, she decided not to fight him on this. She wanted to hang on to the last remnants of peace in the hope she might sleep tonight. She'd heard Canadians were super polite and friendly. He was living up to the reputation.

The doorman opened the glass door to allow them entrance. Sami smiled her thanks. Soft classical music played in the lobby. The polished marble floors gleamed and teakwood accents added texture, while plush, comfortable seating arrangements invited private conversations.

After nodding a greeting to the concierge, they took the elevator to the second floor. She slid her electronic key in the lock, waited for the green light, then pushed open the door. Darkness lay within.

Confusion made her hesitate. The overspill of the hallway light reached a few feet in front of her. She frowned and hovered on the threshold.

Drew stepped close, so close she could feel the heat from his body battling the sudden chill chasing down her spine. “Something wrong?”

“I left a light on when I headed out.”

“Most likely the maid turned it off after cleaning your room.”

Though that sounded plausible, the need for caution didn't ease. She stepped inside the room and groped the wall for the light switch. When she flipped it, nothing happened. Her stomach knotted. She withdrew her sidearm.

Drew's hand on her shoulder gently nudged her aside so he could step past her and move farther into the darkened room. Normally, she'd balk if a man took the lead away from her. She wouldn't let anyone view her as less because she was a woman. But since she had no jurisdiction here and, frankly, was a little freaked out, she allowed him to enter first.

The curtains were drawn; however, a little light from the parking lot outside slipped through the edges, enough to cast gray shadows. Sami's breathing slowed as she strained to listen. Was someone in the room?

She followed Drew deeper into the gloom. Heard him try the table lamp. But the room remained dark.

When she felt the air move, she whipped toward her left. A hissing sound filled her head and something hit her in the face, stinging her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

Pepper spray!

She gagged and spit. Fear fisted in her chest.

Drew's guttural growl said he, too, had been squirted with the offending substance.

They were both vulnerable and the thought terrified her.

Suddenly, the floor-length curtains on the other side of the room were yanked aside. Light from the hotel's back parking lot filled the room. Sami blinked back the tears of stinging pain. She could make out a dark figure at the patio door. She raised her gun but the intruder slid open the glass door and escaped over the balcony and into the night before she could sight down the barrel.

Drew gave chase, disappearing behind the assailant.

She stumbled forward intent on pursuit but she made it only to the sliding door before Drew returned.

He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket and growled, “I couldn't see which way he went.”

A sense of urgency gripped her. “Come on—we need to wash this stuff off.” She groped for his hand and latched on to lead him to the bathroom.

Thankfully, the light in the bathroom worked. She turned the cold water on, grabbed two washcloths from the rack and drenched them before handing one to Drew and using one herself.

After a few minutes the burning from the pepper spray was relatively under control. Drew found a pile of lightbulbs on the bed. He screwed one into the table lamp and turned it on. The warm glow expelled the shadows.

Sami's gaze caught on the wall above the king-size bed. Her heart slammed into her ribs so hard she put a hand over her chest to protect herself.

Drew's shocked hiss echoed in the stillness of the room.

Her mouth went dry.

WATCHING YOU

The words were scrawled in bright red letters on the beige-colored wall.

She gasped for breath, but her lungs refused to cooperate. Dark spots danced at the edges of her mind. She fought for control, hating the violated and vulnerable feeling invading her. Only one other time in her life had she felt this way and she'd vowed to never be a victim again. “No!”

So much for her vow or her determination. This situation was out of her control. She mentally scoffed. Of course she wasn't in control. Only God was. Her fingers curled into fists. But where was God when Lisa was being murdered?

Forcing back the searing question, she concentrated on the current situation.

Birdman had been here. In her room. The sense of violation permeated through her like a virus, making her stomach roll.

“How did he find out where I was staying?” Her shaky voice echoed in the silent room. “I let him slip away again!”

And now the hunter had become the hunted.

* * *

With a lump of rage lodged in his chest at being caught unaware, Drew called hotel security. He wanted to view their video surveillance. He needed to catch a glimpse of the killer because he hadn't caught sight of the perpetrator's face before he'd vanished in the dark like a wisp of smoke.

No go.

Unfortunately, the security system had suffered a power failure and they were working on getting it back online. Coincidence? Not likely. This killer was savvy enough to down a sophisticated security system. Of course he'd knock out the hotel's video surveillance before infiltrating Sami's room.

Drew's nerves jumped to think what would have happened had he not walked Sami to her room.

What was the guy's plan? To pepper spray her and then...kill her or kidnap her?

Either way, Drew wasn't going to let the guy have another chance.

“Pack your bags,” he said.

She turned from inspecting the writing on the wall. “This is paint, not blood.”

“The crime scene technicians can try to find a match to the color and brand and see who bought some recently.” He picked her suitcase up off the floor and put it on the bed. “I need to take you someplace safe.”

Pensive, she nodded and retrieved her clothing from the drawers and the closet. Once she had everything stowed in the suitcase, he grabbed the bag and urged her out of the room just as the local authorities arrived. He ran down the incident. He didn't expect them to find prints; the guy had worn gloves. That much Drew had seen.

“Where are we going?” Sami asked minutes later as they settled in his Land Cruiser.

Good question. There was only one safe place he could think of on short notice. “My place.”

THREE

“A
re you sure this isn't an inconvenience?” Sami asked. She didn't feel right about intruding on his personal life.

“Not at all.”

She followed Drew up the walkway of a well-lit two-story house at the end of a quiet tree-lined street on Vancouver's east side. Fancy sconces were mounted on either side of the rust-colored front door. The house itself was painted a pale yellow with white trim. Empty window boxes created a lonely feeling in the pit of Sami's stomach.

He unlocked the door and walked inside, flipping lights on as he went. She came in behind him and closed and relocked the door.

The house was silent and smelled faintly of savory pasta sauce. Sami's stomach grumbled loudly. Embarrassed, she placed a hand over her tummy.

Drew's chuckle heated her face. “I'm hungry, too.” He set her bag by the foot of the staircase. “I'll make us some eggs and toast.”

He led her through the house toward the kitchen.

The living room had well-worn hardwood floors and brown leather furniture placed strategically in front of a large plasma television, making her wish this were a lazy Sunday afternoon and they were here to watch football.

A much better reason for invading his space than hiding from a madman.

On one wall, a floor-to-ceiling brick fireplace with a stack of wood piled in the firebox behind an ornate glass screen made her think of hot chocolate and cozy winter nights. Over the mantel hung a black-and-white landscape of a windy river cutting through snowy peaks and wooded lands. She recognized the style of a popular American photographer. The place was homey and inviting yet masculine. A bachelor pad.

No signs of flowers or any frilly things to suggest a woman's touch. She slanted Drew a quick glance. She'd noticed the absence of a ring on his left hand. Did that mean he wasn't attached, or did he just not wear a wedding ring while on the job?

Better to ask and appease her curiosity than let the question fester. “Your wife won't mind me being here?”

He flipped on the overhead light in the kitchen. The '70s-style mustard-colored Formica countertops were clean. A cast-iron skillet hung from a hook over the gas stove. “I'm not married.”

She wasn't sure why she felt relief. His marital status had nothing to do with her. Yet she was itching to ask him why he wasn't married. He was good-looking, employed and had a great personality. All the things any sane woman would be crazy not to pursue. But she didn't want to let things get personal. She mentally snorted. As if staying in his guest room weren't personal.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you married?”

She met his gaze. “No.”

“Why not?”

Her mouth twisted. He apparently had no problem asking the question. She went with the less complicated answer. “No time for romance.”

“Ah. I can relate to that.” Drew opened the mustard-colored refrigerator and took out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread.

From his tone it sounded as if he meant no time for romance was also the reason he wasn't married. Whatever his reasons, they were his. She wasn't crazy enough to delve into the whys and whatnots.

Spying the toaster, she took the bread from him. “You concentrate on the eggs. I'll be the toast master.”

He grinned. “I like your way of thinking.”

She liked him. Which was surprising considering earlier tonight he'd derailed her plans of capturing Birdman, but then again, as she'd concluded earlier, he'd saved her life. Twice now. An endearing fact, one she'd have to remember to keep in perspective. They shared the same commitment to their respective jobs. And that included saving a fellow law enforcement agent from harm.

She put two slices of bread in the toaster slots. As she twisted the tie on the end of the plastic bag, she was reminded of being tied up not so many hours ago. Thankfully, her wrists bore no marks from the zip ties.

A thump overhead sent a jolt of alarm through her body and kick-started her heart. She dropped the loaf of bread and reached for her weapon.

“Whoa, stand down,” Drew said softly.

Her gaze swung to him. “Did you hear that? Someone's in your house.”

“It's my dad.” He covered her hand holding the gun with his. The warm pressure sent tingles up her arm. His hands were big, strong and capable. “You're safe here.”

The way he looked at her, as if he was really concerned for her, made her want to believe him. For some reason this man inspired trust.

Heavy footfalls sounded on the wooden staircase. An older man, wearing a white T-shirt and flannel pants, stepped into the kitchen and halted abruptly. His assessing gaze was cool as he regarded Sami and her gun, then swung his gaze to Drew. “I take it we have a guest, eh?”

“Yes, Dad.” Drew removed his hand from over hers. “We have a guest. This is Special Agent Sami Bennett of the FBI. Sami, my dad, retired RCMP inspector Patrick Kelley.”

Exhaling, Sami quickly released the hold she had on her weapon before thrusting out her hand at Drew's father. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Warily, Patrick slid his big hand into hers. His calloused palm scraped against her skin. She could see the resemblance between father and son. Both were tall and formidable with the same dark hair and hazel eyes. Drew's face had more angles and planes, whereas the elder Kelley's face was softer and lined with age.

“Likewise, Sami.” Patrick shook her hand briefly. “It's not often I enter my kitchen to find a beautiful woman holding a gun. Special agent, eh?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks at the compliment and for the fact she'd almost drawn on him. “I'm sorry about that. It's been a stressful night.”

“Eggs, Dad?” Drew went back to scrambling eggs in a bowl.

“Don't mind if I do, eh?” Patrick bent down to pick up the loaf of bread. “I'll have some toast, as well.”

Sami cringed at the result of her embarrassing reaction. “Here, sir, let me.”

He handed over the bread and then turned to retrieve plates from the cupboard. “So, Sami, what brings the FBI to our door?”

“A case.” She pushed down the toaster button and sneaked a glance at Drew. How much would he tell his father?

“How long have you known my son?”

Drew poured the scrambled eggs into a sizzling pan. “We actually met tonight.”

Patrick's eyebrows rose. “This I can't wait to hear.”

* * *

An hour later Drew walked Sami to the guest room at the top of the stairs. He pushed open the door, glad to see the room was made up. They didn't have many visitors, so the room wasn't used often.

“You should find everything you need. Extra blankets and pillows are at the top of the closet.” He pointed to the door across the hall. “Restroom's there. Towels and washcloths are in the cupboard under the sink.”

Sami gazed up at him. Her blue eyes reflected the hall light, making them glow. “Thank you for everything.”

“You're welcome.”

She pushed her honey-blond hair over her shoulder. “I like your dad. He's a character.”

A strand of her hair stuck to her black sweater. Her hair looked so silky and soft he wanted to touch it. Instead he jammed his hands into his pockets. “Dad was in rare form tonight. He's not normally so chatty.”

“I don't mind chatty,” she said, her voice soft and breathless.

He met her gaze, noticing the lighter ring of blue around the darker pupils. She had pretty eyes. It had been a long time since he'd felt the pull of attraction the way he did with Sami. His pulse quickened, setting his nerves on edge.

He mentally shut down his reaction. He wasn't looking for a personal relationship with her. Or anyone, for that matter. The last time he'd fallen for a woman, he'd ended up nursing another wound to his battered heart. Not quite as devastating as his mother's abandonment but close enough to make him even more wary.

He took a step back. “Is Sami short for Samantha?”

She gave an imperceptible nod. “My dad calls me Sami.”

He liked the nickname, more approachable and feisty, like the woman. “It suits you.”

One corner of her mouth lifted, drawing his attention. She had nicely shaped lips. Lips made for kissing. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling as if they were standing under a heat lamp rather than the soft glow of the hallway light.

“Where's your mom?”

Her question doused the mood like a bucket of ice in his face. What was he thinking? Kissable lips? Silky hair?
Dude, get a grip.

He needed to stay focused on the objective. Keep Sami safe and find a killer. Nothing more. Nothing less. Attraction had no place in this high-stakes situation.

“That's a discussion for another time, another day.” Or never. “Good night, Sami.”

Her head tilted to the side with curiosity and...was that disappointment? The awkward silence stretched. The need to open up tugged at him.
Not going to happen. Keep this professional
, he chided himself.

He cleared his throat. “Okay. Good night, then.”

The trill of his cell phone echoed through the quiet house. He pulled the device from his pocket. “Inspector Kelley.” As he listened to Blake's news, a knot formed in his stomach. “Okay. Tomorrow we'll follow up.” He clicked off.

“Well?”

He met Sami's expectant gaze. “The victim was an American woman from Kansas. Melinda Watson. She was in town for a job interview.”

Anger and empathy flashed in her blue eyes. “And the credit card? Did they find out anything about the cardholder?”

The knot tightened. “Mr. Clark's a Canadian. He owns an aviation-parts business and is married with two adult kids. His wife told officers that her husband was at a convention in Las Vegas. He had texted her to say he was extending his stay. That was five days ago. She's heard nothing from him since but hadn't panicked, because they were having marital problems and she was thankful for the time away from each other.”

“I'm going to Las Vegas. I could catch a flight out tonight.”

Drew held up a hand. “Slow down. The card was last used in Phoenix, Arizona, two days ago. Mr. Clark registered at a spa resort.”

She gave a sharp nod. “Then I'll go to Arizona. Cloud Jet Airlines has reasonably priced flights.”

He marveled at her dedication. She traveled on her own dime. He shook his head. “Which may be what the killer wants you to do.”

She shrugged. “I have to catch this guy.”

“Why you?”

Pain flashed in her eyes. “He killed my best friend. I won't stop until he's brought to justice.”

Compassion flooded his veins. If anyone had hurt someone he cared about, he'd want to do the same thing. But he'd be cautious enough to know taking on a killer by himself wasn't a good idea. He couldn't let her do this alone. The killer had brought his carnage to Drew's door—Drew planned to repay the favor and help Sami capture the man. He'd have to okay it through his boss, but if that didn't fly, then he'd take a lesson from Sami and opt to take some vacation time. “I'm going with you.”

Her eyes widened. “I work alone.”

“Not anymore.”

She tucked in her chin and narrowed her gaze. “As much as I appreciate that you saved my bacon twice tonight, I don't want a partner.”

“You don't have a choice. This now involves both of our countries.” He could see the protest forming in her eyes. Before she had a chance to speak, he said, “Look, finding and capturing Birdman will go quicker and more smoothly if we combine our resources. There's no reason for you to do this alone anymore.”

She pressed her lips together and inhaled, then slowly released her breath. “Fine. Just don't get in my way.”

He grinned. He couldn't deny he looked forward to catching a killer. But he also looked forward to getting to know more about Special Agent Bennett. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

* * *

The next morning, after a hurried breakfast of toast and coffee, Drew and Sami piled into Dad's car with Dad insisting on driving them to the airport.

“Thanks, Dad. I'll let you know when I'm coming back.” Drew shut the door to his dad's luxury sedan and watched as his father pulled away from the curb outside the terminal at the Vancouver International Airport.

Drew had had to hide his surprise at how taken Dad was with Sami. He must be mellowing in his old age. Normally his father was suspicious of women, especially ones Drew showed interest in. Something that didn't occur often these days, because he was still smarting from Gretchen's betrayal.

However, Drew was his father's son, after all, and had suffered the same hurt and heartache as his dad when Colleen Kelley walked out of their lives. And again when Drew's marriage fell apart. But his past had nothing to do with the present. His association with Sami was strictly business. He would keep things professional despite his growing interest in her.

He and Sami checked in with airport security, presenting their IDs, filling out the necessary paperwork and having their weapons inspected. Once they were cleared, they made their way to the gate, where they filed onto the Cloud Jet airplane with the rest of the passengers.

Drew wouldn't have guessed so many people would head willingly to one of the hottest places in the summer. He wasn't looking forward to the heat of Arizona in July.

It had taken some fancy talking on his part to convince his boss the trip was warranted. The deputy commissioner had granted him permission but wanted to be kept apprised of the situation. Not a problem, Drew had assured him. He didn't want to jeopardize his standing with IBETs.

“That's us,” Sami said from behind him. “Thirteen A and B.”

He moved past their row of seats so she could step in and have the window seat. She set her suitcase on the floor, then opened the overhead compartment. Before Drew could reach for the suitcase, the man coming in behind her picked up the case and tucked it into the luggage space with quick efficiency.