Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
H unt finished tying his tie, then pulled on his shoulder holster.
“God, you’re hot.”
He looked up. Savannah leaned against the doorjamb, wearing a black, silky robe and cradling a coffee mug.
Her cheeks were still flushed from their lovemaking session in the shower. He grabbed his SIG off the bedside table, checked it again, and slid it into the holster.
“Cam will be here soon,” Hunt said. “He’ll stay with you today.”
She did a poor job of hiding the worry in her eyes.
Hunt took the mug and set it down. He cupped her cheeks. “I need you to trust me.”
“I trust you. It’s Walkson I don’t trust.”
“I’m meeting with Brynn and Killian. Killian’s hacker got some info.
We’ll put pressure on him until Walkson has nowhere left to hide.
We’ve sent his picture out to the stations.
The local news is running a report that he’s a person of interest in Eloise Walters’ murder.
Women will be wary. He’ll have a harder time moving around and finding another victim. ”
Savannah bit her lip. “Okay, that’s good. And you won’t be alone today? You won’t fall for any of Walkson’s sneaky, underhanded tricks?”
Hunt kissed her. “No.” Mmm . She tasted like coffee.
He kissed her again and backed her up. Her back hit the wall, and her robe fell open. His cock swelled and he cupped her breast, before boosting her up. He was happy to see her bruises were looking a little better.
She wrapped her legs around his waist. “God, every time I kiss you feels like the first.” Her tongue dueled with his. “But better.”
Hunt let his mouth travel down her neck, peppering kisses over her bruised skin, and felt her body rub against his. “I never stop wanting you.”
His phone vibrated and he muttered a curse. Keeping her pinned, he pulled it out.
“Cam is on his way up. My brother always had bad timing.”
Savannah smiled, and rubbed her body against his aching cock again. “You’ll have to save it until later.”
“Tease.” He cupped her cheek. “I love you.”
He saw the flash of fear in her eyes.
“I know you think you do,” she whispered.
Pushing down his annoyance, edged with hurt, he set her down. He knew he had to fight to convince her.
He nipped her lips. “And you think I’m stubborn.” He pulled her robe back into place. “Now get dressed. I don’t want my brother seeing all of this beauty.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but headed into the bathroom.
Hunt met Cam in the living area. “Hi.”
Cam lifted his chin. “How’s she doing?”
Hunt rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s holding it together, but it’s wearing on her. Of course, she’s scared for everyone else but herself.”
“You found a good one, Hunt. Beautiful, talented, and a decent person. Add in her strength, and it’s a potent combination.”
“Find your own woman.”
Cam smiled, but it was a little sad. “I’m too broken.”
Hunt stilled. “Cam—”
His brother held up a hand. “I find it hard to sleep through the night. I…I don’t want to inflict my shit on a woman. If I need sex, a one-night stand will do the job. I’m good.”
Hunt blew out a breath. “You’re not good.”
“Let’s just focus on the stalker who’s after you and your woman right now. Go. I’ve got her.”
“Thanks, Cam.” Hunt shifted closer. “And you have plenty to offer a woman. Don’t let the shit in your head tell you differently. I’ve been there. Vander and the others have, too. It gets better, the battle readiness fades, and sleep gets a bit easier.”
Cam kept Hunt’s gaze, but didn’t respond.
“Hi, Camden.” Savannah appeared, eyeing them carefully.
She had dressed in black leggings, and a billowing top in a pretty shade of green.
“I’m headed out.” Hunt crossed over and gave her a quick kiss. “Be good.”
“Be safe.”
Hunt drove to the Public Safety Building, a Norcross X6 driven by Saxon in tow.
It didn’t matter that it was Sunday, the station was as busy as always. When he got to his office, Brynn and Killian were waiting for him.
“How’s Savannah?” Brynn asked.
“She’s okay.” Hunt sat in his desk chair. “But I want this done. I want Walkson in jail, and paying for his crimes.”
“The local stations are showing his picture, and we have all our officers on the lookout for him,” Brynn said.
“My employee, Hex, has been doing some digging.” Killian opened a sleek, high-tech laptop. “With Ace’s help, she’s accessed CCTV around San Francisco.”
“You mean hacked,” Hunt said.
Killian raised a dark brow. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Fuck, no. As long as I can still put the fucker away, I don’t care how we catch him.”
Hunt would do anything to keep Savannah safe. It was a hell of a realization to know there was no line he wouldn’t cross for her.
“They’ve caught glimpses of him,” Killian said. “Not clear shots, the guy’s wearing glasses to distort his face, and he does what he can to distort his height and build, but Hex’s program is good at adjusting for that. We caught him near the De Winter Museum.”
Hunt’s pulse spiked. On screen was a map of the city, littered with red dots. An image flashed up in a new window.
It showed a man, more shadow than anything else. He was on a darkened street near the De Winter. His shoulders were hunched, he was wearing a hoodie, and his face was obscured by a bright blur of light.
“These glasses are actually making it easier to spot him,” Hunt said.
“Yes, there aren’t many people walking around with anti-facial-recognition glasses on.” Killian leaned forward. “There’s a pattern to the sightings. They’re clustered around Nob Hill.”
“He’s staying there, somewhere,” Hunt said.
Killian smiled. “I believe so.”
Another window popped open on the screen, and a woman appeared. “Hey, boss man.”
“Hex,” Killian said.
The woman was fine-boned, with short, black hair tipped with pale pink. She grinned and waved. Brynn waved back, and Hunt nodded.
“Detective Hunter Morgan, Detective Brynn Sullivan, this is Jet “Hex” Adler.”
Hex winked at Hunt. “They make detectives mighty fine on the West Coast.”
“He’s taken,” Killian said.
“The good ones always are. I’ve got something on your perp.” Hex pulled a face. “Now, I’m just saying, this guy you’re after is a dirtbag loser. I look forward to you nailing his ass to the wall.”
“Hex,” Killian prompted.
“Right. We just got a ping on Walkson from that sexy, hunkalicious Norcross hacker, and yes, I know he’s taken, too.”
Hunt straightened in his chair. “Where?”
“In the Nob Hill area. Mason Street. There are several hotels in the vicinity. Boss, I’ve emailed you the list.”
Hunt rose. “I’ll round up a couple of uniforms and start searching.”
Brynn smiled. “This could be it. We could arrest him today.”
Hunt sure as hell hoped so. “Let’s move.”
* * *
The sunshine was lovely.
Savannah was out on the penthouse terrace, enjoying the light breeze. She had her easel set up. With a palette knife, she was daubing colors on the canvas, bringing her picture to life.
Camden was sprawled on the outdoor couch nearby. He didn’t say much, but the silences weren’t awkward.
They’d eaten a simple lunch together, and realized they had a shared love of mustard on everything. She eyed him out of the corner of her eye. There was an edginess to him. Like he was waiting for a bear to burst out of the nicely manicured plants and attack.
“I can feel you watching me,” he said.
“I’m an artist, I watch everyone.”
He made a purely masculine sound. “This face isn’t pretty enough for you to paint.”
Savannah lowered her knife. “Cam, you have to know that you are plenty easy on the eyes. You and your brothers have that good-looking, all-American-man-thing going on. I bet you were a quarterback in high school and all the cheerleaders chased you.”
“I was a running back.”
“That still makes my point.”
He shrugged one broad shoulder. “They wouldn’t be chasing anymore.” He waved at his scarred cheek.
It wasn’t nearly as bad as he probably thought.
“To the right woman, that makes you more attractive. It shows you’ve lived, survived, all while serving your country.” She dabbed her knife in the paint.
Cam cocked his head. “I see why my brother likes you. You sure have him tied up in knots.”
“And I can see you’re changing the subject.” She bit her lip. “Any word from Hunt?”
Cam shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting to hear anything, so just chill, Savannah.”
She tried to relax her shoulders. “Sure.”
He eyed her canvas. It was an embracing couple, the darker-skinned man was much taller than the slim woman he held, who wore a flowing dress the same color as her strawberry-blonde hair.
“Rome and Sofie,” Cam said.
Savannah nodded. The Norcross gang gave her plenty of inspiration. She was planning to do Easton and Harlow next.
A cell phone rang from inside.
“That’s mine.” She set her knife down.
She followed the sound to the coffee table. It was a number she didn’t recognize. Frowning, she answered. “Hello?”
“Hello, Susannah.”
That pleasant, normal voice shouldn’t strike terror in her. Her hand clenched on the phone.
She turned away from the terrace doors. “Fuck you, asshole. You’re going down, and it’s just a matter of time. I look forward to sitting in court, listening as they sentence you to die in prison. It’s not so comfy there, Andrew.”
“Hmm, I see that big thug of a cop that you’re fucking has made you overconfident.”
Time to tell Cam about the call. She took one step toward the terrace doors—
“I have someone here with me. A friend of yours.”
Savannah froze.
“If you tell anyone that I’m on the phone with you, I’ll slit her throat. You can listen to her scream.”
Savannah couldn’t breathe. Cam appeared in the open door.
She forced a smile. “It’s Harlow. Girl talk.”
With a grunt, he disappeared back onto the terrace.
“You’re just tormenting me,” she whispered furiously. “Your photo is all over the news. Hunt’s tracking you down.”
Walkson made an unhappy sound. “Yes, I figured I had your lover to thank for that. I will kill him, Susannah. You should never have let him touch what is mine .”
“I’m not yours!” she whisper-yelled. “I never was, and I never will be.”
“I saw it in your art. We’re meant to be. Destined.”
“You need help, and you need to be punished for the women you murdered.”
“They didn’t mean anything. And this sweet thing with me, she’s just a stand-in for you. I’ll send you a picture.”
“I don’t want anything from you—”
The phone dinged in her hand. An incoming message. Mouth dry, she thumbed the screen and then her throat closed.
The image on the screen sent Savannah’s world tumbling to her feet.
A terrified Ella-Mae was in the shot with a smiling Walkson beside her.
The teenager’s mouth was gagged, her eyes pleading and afraid.
No. No . This couldn’t be happening. Nausea slammed into Savannah. She swallowed, fighting the urge to vomit.
“Ella-Mae,” Savannah whispered brokenly.
“She’s a sweet, sweet young thing. Now, you come to me, and I’ll let her go.”
Savannah’s stomach contracted to a hard, sharp point. Her skin flushed hot.
“If you don’t come to me, Susannah, she dies. Her blood spills while she screams and cries your name.”
Muffled whimpers came across the line.
Savannah squeezed her eyes closed. She remembered Ella-Mae’s smile, all the girl’s questions about art, her shyly telling Savannah about a boy she liked, running to get Hunt to help Savannah deal with John Garoppolo.
Ella-Mae was innocent.
“Come to me, Susannah. And this sweet thing can go home.”
Savannah pulled in a harsh breath. “Where?”
An excited chuckle. “I’ve rented out a little studio.
I’m not telling you exactly where it is, because that cop of yours will probably listen to this conversation.
If you let them discover where I am, Ella-Mae dies.
So, all I’ll tell you, is you’ll be able to work out where I’m at.
Think hard. Think about your art, and us being together. ”
What the hell did that mean?
“We’ll have the studio all to ourselves. But get here fast, or I’ll start cutting Ella-Mae’s milky-white skin.”
“Don’t you dare touch her. I’m coming.”
“Oh, and Susannah? If you tell that thug in your bed, or any of the other guard dogs around you, she dies. She dies painfully.”
“Okay.”
“See you soon.” He ended the call.
Savannah stared out the window, feeling desolate inside. If she told Hunt, he and Vander would try to rescue Ella-Mae.
And if Walkson caught wind, he would kill her. And he’d enjoy it. He’d enjoy Ella-Mae’s pain, and Savannah’s despair.
She couldn’t tell Hunt, not until Ella-Mae was safe.
Walkson wouldn’t kill Savannah straightaway. If Ella-Mae got free, then there would be time for Hunt and the others to rescue Savannah.
She dragged in a breath. Right . Now she needed to slip away from Camden.
“Savannah?” Her bodyguard appeared, frowning at her. “Everything all right with Harlow?”
“Sorry.” Savannah shook her head. “Yes, everything’s fine. I just got an idea for a sculpture that I want to do.”
He nodded.
“I’m going to make some coffee.” She jerked a thumb toward the kitchen. “And visit the powder room. You want a cup of coffee?”
“Sure.”
“Go back and soak up the sunshine. I’ll bring it right out.”
He eyed her for a second, then went back onto the terrace.
The air rushed out of her. She set the coffee maker working, then slipped into the powder room.
She was well aware that she needed every advantage to sneak past Cam. She turned on the faucet and looked in the mirror.
She looked pale and afraid.
Ella-Mae’s depending on you . Savannah had to work out where the hell this studio was. Something to do with her art and Walkson.
Get out first, then work on the puzzle . With the coffee maker and the water running, it should hide the noise of the elevator.
She darted out. There was no sign of Cam. Her heart thundered.
She pressed the button. “Come on. Come on.”
There was a discreet ding, but to her it sounded like the clash of cymbals.
The doors opened, and she stepped inside. She decided to get off a few floors from the bottom and take the stairs, just in case Cam worked out that she was in the elevator.
The doors closed and the elevator descended.
Hold on, Ella-Mae.