Love me to death

“Sean-”

“All we need is information.”

Sean went inside and closed the door before Dillon could argue.

The house was extremely tidy, but there was a slight greasy smell. Sean checked the garbage in the kitchen. Someone had cooked a meal last night. No rotting food.

He searched the place quickly and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then he went to Mallory’s den.

A computer. That was all Sean needed. He’d promised Dillon he wouldn’t take anything, but he hadn’t said he wouldn’t make a copy. He didn’t even try to boot up the computer, but took out a pocket computer and carefully removed the covering on the hard drive. He then hooked up two wires to the motherboard and copied all the data on the computer, making a perfect replication. He replaced everything and was about to leave when he saw two framed photographs on a small table next to a reading chair. His heart nearly stopped.

The larger photo had been taken on a beach: a young, beautiful brunette with a toddler in her arms. They were smiling. Mallory’s family.

But the second photo definitely had more interest for Sean. A younger Lucy, maybe nineteen. Just as beautiful as today, but her eyes were sad. The shot had been taken from afar with a zoom lens.

The fucking bastard.

Sean left and said to Dillon, “He has a picture of Lucy.”

“Anything else?”

“No. But I have a copy of his computer.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t disturb anything. Just made a copy.”

“Kate’s going to kill me.”

“We won’t tell her. Unless, of course, we have to.”

Sean looked back at the house as they drove off. Something was amiss-he had a strong sensation that Mallory was watching. Not from the house … Sean looked around the perimeter. There were plenty of trees and shrubs he could be hiding in.

He had an idea.

Dillon sat patiently in the passenger seat. How could he be so calm? The minutes ticked by and Sean wondered if he’d been wrong and Mallory hadn’t been watching the house while he searched it.

No. Sean never doubted his instincts. When they hummed, he listened. And from the minute he stepped foot outside Mallory’s house, his instincts had been beating the drums like John Bonham. Mallory had been watching. He was waiting for them to leave. For how long? Until he was sure they were gone. There were only two ways out of this neighborhood-on foot and by car. One entrance into the neighborhood by car. Could he have come on foot? In the ice and snow? Possible, but unlikely. And Sean didn’t see Mallory as the type to be without transportation.

Of course, he could have a car stashed somewhere else. Or-

“You don’t participate in many stakeouts, do you?” Dillon asked.

Sean glanced at him sideways. “I’m not a cop.” He tripled-checked the custom GPS and driving system he’d designed, making sure he’d compensated for the road hazards. The icy roads were not his friend, and he hoped his car would help him control any pursuit.

“I’m familiar with RCK. I’m certain there are many times sitting still for long periods of time is necessary.”

“I leave that to others. I’m the only one who hasn’t been in the military. When you enlist, they teach you to be a statue.”

“It’s called survival,” Dillon said. “Are you certain-”

“Yes. I’m certain.” I hope. “I have that feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’ve learned not to doubt.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

Sean glanced at his watch. “We have to leave in an hour to pick up Lucy in time.”

“Kate can pick her up.”

“No. Mallory’ll be out before then. I’d rather keep Kate out of this until we absolutely have to involve her. She shouldn’t be put in an awkward position between me and Armstrong.” Sean trusted the Kincaids-he’d be a fool not to-but none of them were trained bodyguards. And while Sean didn’t specialize in personal security, he’d had his fair share of protective assignments. He didn’t like the idea that Lucy was at the Medical Examiner’s Office without a guard, but if Mallory was here, he wasn’t there. Still, Sean was nervous-if he was wrong, Lucy’s life was at risk. He didn’t care what Dillon said about Mallory not hurting her; Sean didn’t believe it.

The bastard had a photograph of her in his office.

Sean had cracked the windows, even though the air was icy, to better hear a car approach. It was a quiet neighborhood. He closed his eyes and listened. Forced himself to be calm.

“You care about her.”

It was both a statement and a question. Sean suspected after the last few days with Lucy that he’d be getting the third degree from more than one Kincaid.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Dillon didn’t say anything else, and that made Sean nervous. What did Lucy’s brother really think of him? Was he assessing whether he was good enough for her? Whether he knew everything that had happened in her past? Whether he’d be scared away if the going got tough?

Dillon remained silent. Was it that easy?

Cold still air carried sound well, and Sean heard the car long before he saw it.

They were around the corner from Mallory’s private dead-end street abutting the woods, and Sean had positioned his car in such a way as to be able to see through trees and shrubs anyone coming from the ten or so houses up Mallory’s street.

A gray sedan.

Sean turned the ignition of his GT and the engine purred into life. “Seat belt,” he told Dillon. He glanced over. “I should tell you I race cars. Amateur racing, but I’m good. Don’t panic if it gets rough.”

He waited until the sedan had reached the corner, then shot forward to block it.

Mallory braked, immediately reversed twenty feet turning 90 degrees, then drove forward, right behind Sean’s car.

Sean anticipated the move and spun 180 degrees in pursuit.

“This is a residential neighborhood,” Dillon said.

“I’m not going to hit anyone. I love this car.”

But Sean would total it if it meant catching the fleeing bastard. He pressed the “2” on his GPS number pad.

“What’s that?” Dillon asked.

“Questions later.”

His GPS gave him a cutoff route, and the radar in the front of his car told the computer how fast Mallory was driving, and how fast Sean had to go to cut him off.

He made a hard left, leaving Mallory.

“What are you doing?” Dillon exclaimed.

Sean didn’t answer. His eyes glanced left and right, looking for any potential dangers. Kids. Animals. Bouncing balls. It was a weekday, near the time schools let out, which demanded caution.

He glanced at the map, made a hard right up a hill, cut through a dirt service road, then floored it when he hit the main street. He’d lost time on the dirt road, which had turned into a muddy slush from the weather. He suspected that Mallory had slowed, just a fraction, when Sean’s car was no longer in his rearview mirror, but he couldn’t count on it.

His back wheels slipped on a patch of ice, but Sean maintained control of his car. He slowed, looking up the street where he expected Mallory to emerge. No one was there.

“Shit!” Had he miscalculated? No-but he could have misjudged Mallory. The killer could have turned around or