But Orion wasn’t the only bad guy around.
WHY MELISSA HADN’T CALLED a cab the minute she stormed out of the restaurant, he didn’t know. Instead, she’d begun walking back toward Birmingham, her strides angry and determined. It was the wrong direction to have chosen, heading away from lights and people down a road that wasn’t all that well traveled thanks to the interstate that ran parallel through the growing suburb.
It suited his purposes.
He followed, passing her and parking a mile down the highway in an area where streetlights were widely spaced and the traffic was light. He knew she’d keep walking away from the restaurant, away from the humiliating scene that had shattered her idyllic little fantasy of happily-ever-after.
Fifteen minutes later, he spotted her coming toward him, her gait wobbly in those spiky high heels she loved so much. She was punching buttons on her cell phone, her body language communicating despair rather than the anger that had propelled her from the restaurant earlier. He gripped the wheel, waiting. He couldn’t make his move while she was on the phone.
There. She thrust her phone into the little bag hanging from her shoulder on a thin strap and turned around, heading back up the highway toward Trussville.
A quick scan of the highway reassuring him that there weren’t any cars to witness his next move, he pulled onto the highway behind her. She turned toward him as he came level with her, her eyes squinting against the glare of his headlights. She took a step back on the shoulder, nearly falling as the heel of her shoe sank into the sandy soil.
He lowered the passenger-side window and turned on the dome light so she could see his face. Her wary expression shifted to recognition.
Exactly as planned.
Chapter Nine
“Yes, that sounds like her.” The restaurant manager’s voice was tight with disapproval. “We don’t normally have those sorts of scenes in a place like this.”
Rose looked up at Daniel’s tense expression, her stomach aching with fear. They’d been up and down the highway for the past half hour with no sign of Melissa. They’d gone from restaurant to restaurant until they’d found Chez Sofie and someone who remembered Melissa being there that evening.
“She didn’t come back here?” Daniel asked.
“No. Her…companions left soon after she did, and I haven’t seen either of them since.” He looked pleased by that fact, as if his restaurant had been spared further ignominy.
Daniel sighed. “You remember anyone else leaving the restaurant soon after Ms. Bannerman left?”
“Only the gentleman and the other lady.” The manager turned away from them dismissively, pasting a smile on his face as he greeted a couple coming through the front doors. “Welcome to Chez Sofie. Do you have a reservation?”
Daniel touched Rose’s back, nodding toward the exit. They emerged into the cool night air, Rose’s heart hammering hard against her breast.
“Maybe Mark found her and talked her into letting him drive her home.” Daniel opened the Jeep door for her.
“Why didn’t she call you back on his phone, then? To let you know you didn’t have to come?” She slid into the seat, searching his face for a hint of hope.
Though he tried to keep his expression neutral, she didn’t miss the grim set of his mouth. “Don’t know,” he admitted.
She buckled her seat belt and laid her head back against the headrest. “I don’t have Mark’s cell-phone number on my cell phone, but I think I have it in my address book back at home.” She bit her lip. “Why didn’t I think to bring it with me?”
“Because you had no idea you’d need to call him,” Daniel said sensibly, strapping in and starting the Jeep.
“Can we go back down Highway 11?” she asked as he started toward the interstate. “Just in case?”
“Sure,” he agreed. But he didn’t sound hopeful.
They reached Roebuck without spotting Melissa anywhere along the highway. Daniel slanted a look at Rose. “Odds really are that she met up with Mark and he took her home.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“It’s the most likely answer,” he insisted.
She turned to look at him. His profile was outlined by the indigo glow of the dashboard lights, his jaw squared and tight. “But you don’t really believe it,” she repeated softly.
He glanced at her again, not answering.
“It’s a gut feeling,” she added. “Nothing scientific or logical. Just a little voice inside your head telling you that the most likely answer isn’t the right one. Right?”
His jaw muscle bunched.
“He has her.” Rose voiced her deepest fear, certain it was true. “There’s nothing we can do to stop him from killing her.”
“Until we have more information to go on, let’s not think the worst. Okay?”
She settled against the seat, her heart a painful knot in her chest. Intellectually, she knew he was right. Until they talked to Mark, they couldn’t be sure of anything. But in her gut, she knew. The man Daniel called Orion had Melissa, and he wasn’t going to drop her off safely at home tonight.
The only questions were, where would he leave her body and when would it be found?
DANIEL LISTENED to the muted chatter on the police radio sitting on Rose’s side table, trying not to think the worst. He hadn’t been able to reach Melissa on her cell phone or at home, and Mark Phagan wasn’t answering either of the numbers Rose had in her address book. Calling the police so early was pointless, especially since Melissa had ample reason to be lying low after whatever had happened between her and Mark at the restaurant.
Rose had settled into a restless doze around 2:00 a.m., curled into a half-fetal position on her sofa. She looked young and vulnerable, her face soft with sleep. He felt the urge to scoop her up in his arms, carry her up the stairs to her bedroom and settle her under the colorful quilt.
And it was a toss-up whether he’d tuck her in or join her under the covers.
He was crazy to be thinking of her this way. He still didn’t have a clue how she knew so much about Orion and his murders. Getting any more involved with her before he’d settled that question was criminally stupid.
But she couldn’t have feigned the fear he’d seen in her eyes when she realized Melissa was really missing. She hadn’t faked the troubled dreams that had chased her for the last two hours, making her toss and turn on the sofa, low sounds of distress trapped in her throat.
He slouched in the chair, allowing himself to memorize the curve of her jaw, the soft bow of her lips, the brush of her long, dark lashes against her cheeks. The makeup she’d worn to go clubbing was mostly gone, save for the smudge of mascara darkening the skin beneath her eyes. And, yet, in that perfect moment in time, he knew he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
But perfect moments always came to an end, and his ended at 4:21 a.m., when the call came over the police scanner. Ten fifty-four-possible dead body. He pulled a notebook from his breast pocket and jotted down the address, waiting with growing apprehension for more information to come over the scanner.
Ten minutes later, the call came, confirming the dead body and calling for the coroner.
Daniel looked across the living room at Rose’s sleeping form, his heart sinking. The last thing he wanted to do was to wake her when all he knew was that some poor soul had died that night. But he couldn’t bring himself to sneak out and leave her here to wonder what had happened.
He woke her with a gentle shake. Her eyes fluttered open and settled on him, her gaze warm and liquid. For a moment, he almost let himself forget the murders, the call on the scanner, everything but the raw need he saw simmering in the depths of her mossy-brown eyes. But she looked away, breaking the connection. Her gaze flew to the scanner on the side table. “Has something happened?”
