Chapter Six Bree #2
Two days later, still riding my high, I splurged on a couple of dresses for the trip.
When I got back to my truck, all four of my tires had been slashed.
Shocked, I bent down to examine the rubber and discovered a piece of barbed wire had been stuck into each tire.
My immediate reaction had been anger. Who would do such a thing?
But when I pulled one out and looked closely, I saw the barbs had been dipped in red paint.
It looked like blood. Just like the wire around the necks of those poor murdered girls in the river.
My veins froze, and my knees went weak as black spots floated about my vision.
I turned and pressed my back to the car and slid to the ground with my heart pounding out of my chest. It wasn’t the first time I’d experienced a panic attack, and sadly, it wouldn’t be my last.
That was the day I knew deep inside that he was still out there.
When I was finally able to stand and found a postcard for Paris, with a black X across it under my windshield, there was no mistaking it.
It was a warning not to leave. It screwed my head up so badly that I couldn’t sleep and began to have a whole new set of nightmares.
I weighed all my options and thought about ignoring what I was sure was a warning, and the next morning I knew I couldn’t go.
If it really was him, I knew what he was capable of, and I wasn’t going to tempt fate twice. I had quit the FBI the next day.
I only wished that was the last time I’d gotten a sign from him.
“This just came in.” Brad’s words brought me back to the present, and I saw him post something on the board. “You said in the car you had some bad experiences with weapons. What happened?”
I scanned the board and fingered the note card he’d just posted—it read poison and was from the autopsy report. I turned around and snagged the full printout from both autopsies.
“‘Butterfly root moss,’” I read out loud as something tugged at my memory. Where have I heard of that before? “Huh. My mom is always in the garden, and her hands often get dyed green when she works with Miracle-Gro.”
He let out a small sigh, no doubt because I’d ignored his question. “All right. Go on.”
“As we know, there were traces of poison found in both victims, but we still don’t know how much.”
“Yes.”
“Moss and gardening go together?” I tried to find a connection.
Brad reached for a different file. “‘Butterfly root moss is found in the Netherlands,’” he read aloud. “‘It’s highly poisonous when it’s broken down into powder or liquid form.’”
I quickly typed that information into YouTube and scrolled through a few videos.
“Look.” I stopped at a guy who held out his hands. His fingers were green. He explained how they got that way from working with the dangerous moss. “So, maybe slimy green fingers from the videos is our guy?”
“It’s a start.” He rubbed his eyes. He looked beat. “I’ll fill Captain in tomorrow, and we also should hear from the lab on that piece of mail we found at Sophia’s house.”
“Good. You look tired. We both are.” I dropped the file onto the table and hoped like hell we were onto something worthwhile. I shrugged off my sweater and wished I had some extra clothes. My dress was comfortable but not for sleeping. “Any chance I could borrow something to sleep in?”
“Yeah, of course.” He disappeared and returned a moment later with a T-shirt and sweatpants. “Bathroom is right down that hallway.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed my bag. I changed quickly and thought about skipping the pants because the shirt was like a dress on me, but I wasn’t sure what kind of message that would send.
Thank God for the drawstring. I pulled it tight and tied a bow in the front.
The strings hung down to my knees, so I doubled the bow.
Whatever, they were comfortable. When I returned to the living room, he had changed into a T-shirt and sweats as well and was studying the whiteboard.
Headlights filled the window, and I quickly moved over and hid myself behind the window frame.
I peeked through the edge of the curtain.
What if our stalker followed us here and was watching the house?
“Who do you think it was tonight in the truck?” I knew my voice was shaky.
My usual nervousness had heightened since I’d come back to Sheffield.
This was where I’d witnessed such horror all those years ago.
Maybe my fears of him watching me were true and he wanted me back here.
“Don’t worry, whoever it was just wanted our attention.” Brad’s voice was calm as he looked me over. “If he wanted us dead, we’d be dead, so I don’t think he’ll bother us tonight.”
“But I couldn’t go home?”
“Wasn’t worth the risk.”
“But we came here, so now you’re at risk.”
“It’s fine.” He moved across the room until he, too, was standing next to the window.
I took a deep breath. “Are we fine though?”
“That’s a loaded question.” He smiled.
I ignored him and looked away. That constant fear was always just below the surface.
It was why I had come to realize I needed to be here.
I wanted those files the captain offered.
I think I knew, deep down, I had to find out who he was.
Maybe this new role as a consultant would give me the opportunity to find more clues.
I needed answers no matter how hard I had to fight against my fear. I licked my dry lips.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I am.” I ran both hands through my hair and tried to rein myself back in. “Tonight just stirred something up inside me.”
He muttered something I couldn’t hear.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll get my head back in the game and focus on this.” I went to move close to the couch, but he grabbed my arm and turned me to face him.
“Come here.” He pulled me into a hug at first.
I stiffened from the contact but then soon relaxed.
He was wonderfully warm, and I felt so safe with his strong arms around me.
I found myself nuzzling against his chest to seek all the comfort it brought me.
I never once felt like that with Dale. Being in Brad’s arms reminded me of how much I’d missed him, and I had a burning urge to press myself against him so badly.
“I don’t know what’s going through your head, but whatever it is, it looks exhausting,” he said.
“It is.” I moaned and let my guard down for a moment.
He pulled back slightly, and I hoped he wouldn’t see what I felt. His chin brushed my jaw, then his lips hovered over mine the way they had earlier. My gaze jumped from his eyes to his lips again, and I was sucked into his vortex just as I always was since we met years ago. “Brad.”
“What is it with you?” he said, more to himself than to me.
“It’s like witchcraft, the way I’m pulled to you.
” Yeah, ditto. It could be just untamed lust from those younger days.
Maybe if we’d slept together before he’d married Sherry, that pull wouldn’t be so strong.
But in that moment I didn’t care. Brad brought a hunger out in me like no man ever had.
My body ached for him, and the way his hand flexed on my lower back told me he felt it too.
His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, and I closed my eyes to savor our moment of weakness.
“I just want a little taste,” he whispered, and the heat from his breath made my heart pound harder. “Just a taste.”
The moment his lips connected with mine, something wild and unhinged ignited between us.
His hands were in my hair as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.
He kissed just like I imagined, strong and dominating.
I molded my body to his need, to feel him against me.
His arm hooked under my bottom and lifted me into the air.
I wrapped my legs around his waist as my back hit the wall.
One hand slid up my shirt and cupped my breast through my bra.
His erection rubbed all the right places, and I wanted to cry with how much I wanted him.
My body hummed, and my legs squeezed to draw him in closer.
I wanted this so badly. Suddenly, he ripped his lips from mine and buried his face in my neck.
His chest heaved with mine as we both let what just happened sink in.
“Christ,” he huffed, still holding me in place against the wall. “I just lost control with you.”
I wasn’t complaining, but one of us had to point out the obvious. “But we work together, so . . .”
“Right.” He thumbed my nipple through the lace, and my body pulsed with need. “We work together.”
“Yes,” I shamelessly panted in agreement.
“Don’t do that,” he growled. “I’ll be inside you so quick if you keep making sounds like that.” I closed my eyes and cried internally at the idea as he slowly lowered me to the floor. My knees were shaky as I stood there. “Take my bed—I’ll take the couch.”
“No, please let me take the couch.”
“Bree.” His voice told me not to push him. “Come on.” He led me down the hallway and into his room. He brushed a hand down my cheek, and I fought to not melt into his touch. “Good night.”
“Night.” I slowly closed the door on him and sank into the cool wood bench. What the hell was that? You can’t let this happen, Bree. You love your job in New York.
I crossed the neatly organized room and slid under the covers, too tired to do any bedtime prep. I didn’t even let the fact I was in Brad’s bed enter my subconscious. I closed my eyes and in seconds drifted off into a hot and bothered sleep.
I knew I was dreaming, but I couldn’t stop it.
My throat hurt as I swallowed around the barbed wire that cut into my skin.
Terror coursed through my insides, and I tried to move, but my legs and arms were bound to a pipe.
Confusion swept over me like it often did.
Why me, why now? What did he want from me?