Paula Graves - Forbidden Temptation

“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?”

He told her about the police call, trying to hide his own growing uneasiness as he told her that it could be a death completely unconnected to Melissa or Orion himself. “I thought I’d head to the scene and see what I could find out.”

“I’m coming with you.” She untangled her legs from the knit throw and sat up.

“Rose, you shouldn’t go. I don’t know what I’ll find-”

“I can’t stay here and worry. I’ll stay in the car while you check on it, but please don’t make me stay here.”

Knowing futility when he saw it, he nodded. “But you stay in the car.”

“Thank you.” Relief and dread mingled in her voice. “I’ll go change clothes.”

She returned a few minutes later, her hair in a ponytail and her face scrubbed clean. She’d changed out of her club clothes into a moss-green sweater and a pair of faded jeans. “Ready?” she asked.

Not really, he thought. But he gave a nod and followed her outside, where the early morning quiet was broken by the faint hum of traffic on the expressway a few blocks away.

For most of the city, life went on, oblivious to the fact that a woman lay dead only a few blocks away.

WAITING IN THE CAR was only marginally better than waiting at home, Rose decided as the hand on her wristwatch clicked past 5:00 a.m. Daniel had left the Jeep about fifteen minutes ago, disappearing into the small clump of bystanders gathered outside the yellow crime-scene tape cordoning off an overgrown, empty lot that had once been a school playground. The abandoned school loomed in the background, shuttered and silent, its dark facade painted blue and crimson by the flashing dome lights of the police cruisers parked at haphazard angles along the curb.

Rose reached into her purse for her cell phone, hitting the speed dial for Melissa’s home phone. After six rings, the answering machine picked up. Rose hung up before the beep; Daniel had already left a message on her machine last night.

She tried Mark Phagan’s home number with the same result. Grimacing with frustration, she put her phone on the seat beside her, peering through the Jeep’s windshield to see if she could catch a glimpse of Daniel in the crowd. Time slowed to a mind-numbing crawl, each minute interminable.

On impulse, she picked up her phone and tried Melissa’s cell-phone number one more time. It rang three times, then there was a click. But no one spoke.

“Melissa? It’s me-please don’t hang up-”

More silence.

Rose’s heart began pounding. “Melissa?”

“Who is this?” a man’s voice asked.

Rose’s heart skipped a beat. A cold chill washed over her, making her light-headed and shaky. Her vision narrowed to a pinpoint.

It must be him. He’d killed Melissa and taken her cell phone-

“Hello?” the voice repeated. “I asked, who is this?”

“Who is this?” she countered, forcing the words from her constricted throat.

There was a brief pause, then the man answered, “This is Detective Frank Carter with the Birmingham Police Department.”

Relief shuddered through her, quickly swallowed by despair. If Detective Carter had Melissa’s phone-

“I told you who I am. It’s your turn.”

She licked her lips. “It’s Rose Browning. Melissa’s friend.”

Detective Carter released a slow, deep breath. “Oh. I’m sorry to tell you this, Ms. Browning, but your friend is dead.”

Rose closed her eyes, pain closing around her throat. Even though she’d spent the last hours preparing for this moment, it hit her like a truck. She tried to say something but only a strangled bleat escaped her mouth.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Detective Carter said, his voice gentle. “I’ll want to speak to you later, so don’t leave town in the next few days, okay?”

“Okay.” She managed to get the word out.

“I’ll talk to you soon.” He hung up.

Rose dropped her phone to her lap, sinking back against the seat. A shiver shook her, scattering chill bumps across her arms and chest. She wrapped her arms over her chest, trying to control the tremors.

The trill of her cell phone split the silence of the Jeep’s cab. She jumped, the phone tumbling to the floor-board. She groped for it in the darkness. “Hello?”

“It’s me.” Daniel’s voice rumbled through her, warm and solid, easing her shivers. “How’re you holding up?”

She could tell by his careful tone that he already knew about Melissa. “I know it’s her,” she said. “I tried Melissa’s cell phone and Detective Carter answered.”