Page 22 of 1st Shock
Some of my friends have been through divorce proceedings that were strung out over a year or more. I know they take time and can be gut-wrenchingly painful. JJ’s wife is a high-profile entertainment lawyer who doesn’t want to give up her influential husband. That their divorce has topped the two-year mark shouldn’t surprise me, but it still bugs the shit out of me. I want him for myself, dammit. “That’s great.” I reach for the car door. “I have to go.”
He opens it for me before I can do it and helps me inside. He leans on the frame and says, “Can I call you later?”
I smell his intoxicating aftershave and see those baby blues—frank, with a touch of yearning in them. He’s asking permission for once, instead of just doing whatever he wants. I want to grab him and hug him. Reassure him his lawyer has the news we’ve both been waiting for. “Good luck with the meeting,” is all I say instead before forcing him out of the way as I shut the door.
He stands there for a moment, staring at me. I can’t go anywhere until he moves his big SUV, so I hurriedly shoot off texts to Matt and a couple other beefy guys I know with IQs higher than mine—Justice "Grey" Greystone and Mitch Monroe.
I should mention to JJ about Meg’s visitor, about the fear jabbing me under my breastbone, but I don’t. Selfish me, I want him to go to that damn meeting. I want him to call me later and tell me Carlena Gage Carrington has signed the papers.
For now, I let him go and hope my other texts are answered. If a killer did pay us a visit, I'm going to need the other men in my life on board.
* * *
I don't make it home until after nine, having set up a whole new security system at the office. To be honest, calming Meg down took more effort than installing the cameras and motion sensors on all the doors and windows.
Hopefully, I impressed upon Haley the importance of never leaving the back door unsupervised. Especially now.
Grey and I went through all the footage and he's having his tech expert, Teeg, see if he can get a hit off our intruder's face, body shape, gait, or the logo on the cap. The blond wig on the skull is a blatant message if I've ever seen one. Matt is taking it to the FBI lab to have it tested to see if there are any cases using the same hair.
The biggest thing bothering me is how this guy—our suspected serial killer—found out we're investigating these cold cases. The request I put in to the various local police departments—did someone leak it? Or perhaps from the prison? Is this a killer employed by a law-enforcement agency?
The thought sends shivers over my skin.
I'm seconds from climbing into a warm bath and working through several possibilities when the doorbell rings. Meg doesn't use it or knock—she simply uses her key. Maybe it's Matt or Grey with some news.
Throwing on my robe, I check my phone and the app connected to the new front door camera. All I see is a hulking mass of a man with his head down, but I know that build, that brand of suit.
I rush to the door, tying the sash on the way. I'm annoyed and weirdly pleased when I find JJ on the doorstep looking like a million bucks.
A tired million bucks, but still sexy as hell, a five o'clock shadow heavy along his jawline. His big hands hold takeout bags. "I just heard about the break-in." He scans me from head to toe—checking that I'm in one piece or taking stock of my lack of clothing? —before coming back to meet my eyes. "Are you okay?"
I tighten the sash and realize it only serves to emphasize my suddenly perky nipples.Traitors.
That's what he does to me—instant insanity. My body betrays me even as my heart retreats. "Technically, it wasn't a break-in, the guy walked through the unlocked back door. I wasn't there when it happened, so yes, I'm fine, and no, I'm not up for company. I'll call you tomorrow."
Unless he has the news I’ve been waiting to hear…
He doesn’t say anything, and I start to close the door feeling my hopes crashing down—if she’d signed, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell me—and he strong-arms it. His look turns wounded. "You should have called me today."
She definitely didnotsign the papers. "Everything's under control." I hope.
"You're dealing with a serial killer. He knows you're on his trail now and wants to play games with you and Meg. This is serious, Charlie."
"You think I don't know that?" I snort my frustration, not just at JJ, at the whole damn situation. "I installed an upgraded office security system, reprimanded our poor receptionist, interrogated the UPS guy, and have friends trying to match our visitor with known criminals in the area. Meanwhile, I've also added extra security around the duplex and tried to talk Meg into moving in with Mom and Dad until this blows over."
"Bet that went well." A small smile. He tips his chin to the other side of the duplex. "She's okay?"
"She's pissed and ready to go on a rampage, she just doesn't have a target."
"Can I see the video?"
"Why? Because you have ESP and will be able to figure out what the rest of us can't?"
Another wounded look. "Let me help. I brought dinner. I know you haven't eaten."
He knows me too well. My stomach growls as if on cue—another traitor. A part of me urges me to let him in, to show him the video, the photos I pulled from it, and to put him on follow-up duty with the police departments I contacted two days ago about the cold cases. Someone had to have leaked the info, alerting our killer.
But in reality, my body wants to invite him inside for ulterior purposes. It's been too long since our night together.
