“What will that do to your theory about Orion?” Rose asked. “I can tell you right now, Mark has lived in Birmingham for the past six years, and he lived in Tuscaloosa before that. He wasn’t traveling from state to state killing women.”
Daniel frowned again. “So maybe I’m wrong about these killings. Maybe they’re not the work of Orion.”
“What happens if it’s not? Do you move on?” Rose tried not to sound anxious, but the thought of him walking out of her life now hurt more than she’d expected.
He tangled his fingers in her damp hair, pulling her closer. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “We’re a long way from this case being over. I’m not going anywhere.”
He didn’t add “for now,” but the unspoken words rang in her head. She pulled him closer, tabling her doubts. He was with her now. That would have to be enough.
Daniel’s fingers threaded through her hair, tugging her head up. He gazed into her eyes, as if searching for something just beyond his reach. “I’m sorry we didn’t reach her in time.”
The guilt in his voice pricked her eyes, eliciting tears. She blinked them back, afraid to give in to the grief hovering just beneath the surface of her emotions. No matter how her relationship with Melissa had ended, Rose had considered her a friend. Losing her, especially in such a violent way, was a wounding blow. But if she let herself cry, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop.
Daniel brushed his mouth against hers, the touch soft and undemanding. A hot ache settled in the middle of her chest.
She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and held him there, his lips still on hers. He tasted of mint toothpaste and smoky passion, sparking a hunger she’d never known before. She pulled back, gazing at his face as if she could will the true-love veil to appear. But she saw only his strong, masculine features, dark with a hint of curiosity.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head wordlessly. He hesitated briefly, then tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her toward him. He kissed her again, his hands sliding down her back to settle against her hips. He lifted her onto his lap, his hardness pressing against her softness.
She didn’t care about the true-love veil, she realized. She just needed to forget. Forget death, fear or anything but the feel of heated flesh and whispered sighs.
Daniel groaned deep in his chest and laid her back against the pillows, his hips settling between her thighs. He kissed her throat, nipping the sensitive flesh. “Rose,” he murmured.
She arched her back, liquid heat pooling low in her belly. She tugged the tails of his shirt from his waistband. His belt buckle dug into the flesh of her belly, a reminder that he was still wearing entirely too many clothes.
A ringing sound buzzed on the edge of her receding consciousness, pesky as a fly. She tried to ignore it, reaching for Daniel’s belt, but he stilled her hands.
“Someone’s at the door.” He rolled away from her.
She tugged at his arm, trying to pull him back to her. “They’ll go away.”
“Not if it’s the police.” Daniel sat up, combing his fingers through his tousled hair. He stood and tucked his shirttail into his trousers again. “We’d better check.”
Rose released a frustrated growl and rolled off the bed. She grabbed the cotton bathrobe hanging on the back of her door.
She padded downstairs ahead of Daniel and peeked through the fish-eye lens in the front door. A distorted image of Detective Frank Carter looked back at her.
She patted her hair smooth and opened the door.
Frank stood in the doorway, a frown on his face. In his rubber-glove-encased right hand he held a small white envelope.
Rose’s heart skipped a beat.
“This was propped against the door when I arrived.” Frank looked past Rose at Daniel, one eyebrow inching upward. “I need a plastic bag.”
As Daniel disappeared into the house, Rose scanned the quiet neighborhood, the hair on her arms prickling. Traffic was light this early, a car or two passing while she watched. Three houses down, a neighbor dressed in a sweatsuit walked her poodle around her small front yard.
So ordinary, untouched by the violence that lurked nearby.
She could feel him nearby. He wanted to see her open the envelope, to see her expression when she read the message inside.
Daniel returned with a plastic sandwich bag. He held it open so Frank could drop the envelope into the bag.
Rose peered at the envelope. There was nothing on the envelope, not even her name.
“Same as last time,” Daniel murmured, his brow furrowing. He guided Rose back into the house, motioning for Frank to join them inside.
“Do you think he’s out there, watching?” Rose asked.
“Probably not. He wouldn’t want to risk being caught.”
And yet he’d risked walking up on her porch in broad daylight and leaving the envelope in front of her door.
Or had it been broad daylight? They’d come in through the back early this morning. The message could have been propped against the door since then. A warning of what he was about to do, or a gloat about what he’d already done?
“Let’s get that to the station before we jump to any conclusions,” Frank said quietly. “We need to see what’s inside. And I have questions for you, too.”
Rose glanced at Daniel. He gazed back at her, his expression a mixture of consolation and regret.
“I’ll go get dressed,” she said.
“NO OBVIOUS PRINTS or fibers,” Frank Carter told Daniel and Rose when he returned to the detectives’ office where they’d been waiting for over an hour. “We’re running more tests to see if we can pull some prints from the paper, but it’s iffy.” He handed Rose a sheet of paper. “This is what we found inside.”
Rose looked at the photocopy of the notepaper. Centered in the middle were the words, “Sorry about your friend.”
Her veins filled with ice water.
“Same paper as last time. Standard word processing instead of block printing this time,” Frank continued. “Times New Roman, twelve-point type. No obvious printer inconsistencies, but if we could find the printer we could probably match them up. Our evidence technicians will take a closer look at that, as well.”
Daniel placed his hand at the center of Rose’s back, his steadying touch welcome. She leaned closer, taking strength from his warmth. “Why has he targeted me?” she asked Frank.
“I’m not sure,” Frank admitted. “You were mentioned in the write-up of the neighborhood meeting. Maybe he thinks you’re interfering with his business.”
Rose wasn’t so sure. There seemed to be something personal about his interest, as if he could sense her connection to him.
What would he do if he ever learned that she could foresee his vicious acts?
The phone on Frank’s desk rang. He grabbed it. “Carter.”
Daniel’s hand moved in a gentle circle over Rose’s spine, radiating warmth through her shaky limbs. “You holding up?” he murmured for her ears only.
She nodded.
“Okay, will do,” Frank said into the phone. He hung up and looked at Daniel. “That was my captain, Sheila Green. She wants to see you in her office to discuss what you can contribute to our investigation.”
“Right now?”
Frank nodded. “Down the hall to the right. I’ll keep Ms. Browning company while you’re in there.”
Daniel dropped his hand away from Rose’s back and stood, giving her a quick, reassuring look before heading for the exit.
“How are you holding up?” Frank asked Rose, dragging her attention away from Daniel’s retreating back.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Tired of losing my friends.”
Frank nodded, his expression sympathetic. “It’s never just the victim who suffers.”
