If it moved…was the person still here? What if he killed Kellan? What if he was waiting…a frustrated, frightened sound escaped and she pressed her hands to her eyes. “Damn it, stop! He’s a fucking cop, he knows what he is doing.”
But an odd little whisper in her head kept repeating, So does the killer…
Darci jumped as the lights flashed back on. A few minutes later, outside her door, Kellan said, “Darci, it’s me.” She watched as the doorknob started to turn. “Unlock the door.”
Swallowing, she forced herself to stand up and walk over to the door. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she turned the little latch, unlocking it and stepping back from the door.
As he came inside, she rubbed her arms, violently cold.
“Somebody tripped the power in the garage, and came in through the front door,” he said, lowering himself to sit on her bed, his eyes watchful. “No signs of forced entry. But we can see signs that somebody stood outside your window, where you said you saw someone as you woke up. A few other things… And the perp left a note.”
Darci read the script through the clear plastic he had tucked the note inside. Her heart tripped as the words started to make sense.
Don’t worry, Darci.
I’m not coming after you-even though he gave me a good reason to kill you tonight.
“You have any idea what that means? Who he is?” Kellan asked, once she had dragged her eyes away from the note and looked back at him.
“No,” she whispered, her throat tightening, vising down until swallowing was nearly impossible. She stared at the note again, until her eyes ached from the strain.
“Kellan,” she murmured, her heart slamming painfully against her ribs. “What is going on?”
Tears started to burn their way down her face and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. “Damn it, look at me, I’m shaking so badly,” she muttered, dashing the tears away. “Crying…and nothing even happened.”
“That’s bullshit,” Kellan said, reaching out and taking her hand, rubbing it between his hands. “You could have been hurt tonight. Worse. We’ve got a maniac on our hands, and most likely he was the one in your house.”
“She…” Darci murmured, remembering the writing.
“What?”
She jumped, startled at how close his voice sounded. Turning her head, she looked into his eyes, only inches away from her face. Sweet heaven, those eyes… Licking her lips, she concentrated and said, “She. The handwriting looks kind of feminine to me. Although I’ve seen men who do write prettier than women. And vice versa. But it’s not just the handwriting. It’s the note itself. A man isn’t very likely to want to kill a woman because of something another man did.”
“Unless he thinks you’ve been doing something with that man that you shouldn’t,” Kellan said, but a brow rose and he smiled in approval. “So…you sure there aren’t any jealous boyfriends?”
Her heart slammed against her chest as his eyes dropped to her mouth. Running her tongue over her lips, she whispered, huskily, “No. No boyfriends.”
He muttered something under his breath and then he reached out, cupping his hand over the back of her neck and drawing her close. Darci went, hypnotized by the look in his eyes. His head started to lower and she could feel his breath on her lips as he whispered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
As his mouth slanted across hers, Darci gasped, reaching up and curving her fingers into his neck, feeling her nipples tighten as he pushed his tongue deep inside her mouth, one hand coming up to cradle her face.
A moan caught in her throat.
Seconds later, he had pulled away, his eyes dark, turbulent. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, reaching up and rubbing his thumb across her full, damp lower lip.
“I kinda wish you’d done that long before now,” she said quietly, leaning down and pressing her lips to his, this time sliding her tongue into his mouth, seeking out that sharp, unique taste of man. She closed her eyes in appreciation as she slid off the lounge to kneel in front of him.
One heavily muscled forearm wrapped around her waist, bringing her flush against his body. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her nipples drawn into tight, hard little buds that seemed to ache and throb for his touch. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she dipped her fingers into his hair, delighted to find it hanging loose and free, nearly to his shoulders. Thick, silky, it twined around her fingers, just like she had thought it would.
He tipped her face up, slowly drawing back and moving his lips along the line of her jaw, her ear, and her neck. “Damn it, you smell so good,” he whispered gruffly, and his low, heated voice sent shivers down her spine. “Taste so sweet… I’ve driven myself crazy wondering.”
Against her belly, she felt the long, rigid length of his cock and she whimpered as one big hand cupped her butt, holding her still as he pumped his hips against her, his cock cuddling into the softness of her abdomen. “Maybe you shouldn’t have just wondered,” she teased, pulling her head back slightly, staring into his eyes.
He chuckled. “Darci, babe, you’re a bit more than I know how to handle,” he mused, staring into her eyes.
Footsteps sounded out in the hall and her body cried out in disappointment as he pulled away, easily lifting her to the lounge before he settled back on the bed, linking his hands between his knees, staring at her with brooding, unreadable eyes. The door opened just as he lifted the note from the floor, studying it through the plastic cover. “A woman,” he said quietly, his eyes thoughtful.
Darci pulled a robe on over the thin, white chemise before following them out into her home. “You sleep pretty soundly, Darci,” Kellan murmured, sighing as he studied the walls and the ugly red paint that smeared them.
“The paint is still tacky. She must have done it right before she went outside. I wonder what she was doing,” Kellan muttered, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. It floated loosely through his fingers and he absently told himself he needed to get it cut.
“Maybe she wanted to scare me,” Darci said softly.
Her eyes were locked on the wall, at the stain of red that smeared it. No words…just an erratic line, right down the middle, and palm prints pressed to each of the matted photos that adorned the wall.
“Well, that’s a given,” Kellan sighed. “You find out somebody opened a door you’re certain you locked, and slid inside your house…you’re going to be scared.”
“I’m starting to get pissed as well,” she said, lifting her shoulders restlessly, a muscle ticcing in her jaw as she stared at the ruined pictures.
Kellan suspected he knew what was going through her mind. Certainly, she could throw the frames away, get new ones-the glass over the photos had protected the pictures she had shot. But he knew, even if she did that, they were ruined for her.
As if in echo to his thoughts, she quietly said, “Some of these are the first photos I ever took. More than fifteen years of my life invested in them. And now they are ruined. I can’t ever look at them again without seeing those bloody handprints.”
“I’m sorry, Darci,” he said quietly, dipping his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to her.
A dry laugh escaped her. “Yeah. Me, too. But maybe not for all of it,” she replied.
And the look she sent him from under her lashes had his blood pounding heavy and hot through his veins.
No fingerprints.
None. The handprints on the glass and the walls were smooth, like a mannequin. They discovered why later as a deputy searching the grounds had found a pair of vinyl gloves lying beside the mailbox, stained red with paint.
“Who in the hell are you?”