Karen Rose - Have You Seen Her?

He considered the latest barrage of questions from the press, outraged at his team's inability to solve this crime in their allotted one hour of prime time. And he thought about the mountain of paperwork he'd scaled, knowing it would have grown back to its previous height by tomorrow morning. So had he made any progress? "No, not a whole hell of a lot." he answered.

"Don't do that," she said softly.

"Do what?"

"Click off with me. It's like you go somewhere else and leave me behind."

He stiffened. It was a very Melissa-like comment, but delivered without venom. Today. Who knew where they'd be in five years. Ten? "It's part of the job, Jen. It's part of who I am."

She digested this in silence, not breaking her eye contact. Then finally said, "All right."

"All right? Just all right?"

She smiled and he felt the knot in his gut loosen by slow degrees. "Just all right. I guess the trick on my end will be not getting hurt when you click off." She lifted on her toes and brushed a soft kiss across his mouth. "But the trick on your end will be not to click off that often. Or wait too long to click back on."

It was a proposal of sorts. "I can live with that. If you can."

"I can," she whispered, still a fraction of an inch from his mouth.

But for how long ? he wanted to ask. But didn't. He didn't have any right to ask at this point. They'd known each other nearly two weeks. They'd never talked anything more long-term than the next day. Certainly never come close to uttering the word "love."

Yes, you did, Thatcher , his self told him. You told her you could fall in love with her .

Yes, I did. And maybe I have , he thought. Maybe .

"Steven, you look completely exhausted. Go eat dinner and go to bed."

Her words reminded his brain of how tired he really was. "I'm sorry, Jenna. I'm not much company tonight."

She slipped one hand from the back of his neck to put gentle pressure on his mouth. "Get some rest, Steven. Call me tomorrow and we can talk some more. I'm going home now."

Home. To her apartment. His brain kicked back into full throttle. Until they picked up Rudy Lutz and his friends, he didn't want her being alone at night. "Jenna, I've been thinking about that. I'd feel better if you stayed here tonight."

Her lips quirked. "I bet you would, but I don't believe you have it in you, Special Agent Man."

He chuckled, despite his exhaustion. "If that's a challenge, I'll declare you the winner right now. No, I'm talking about Lutz and his friends. Pullman hasn't found anything tying any of them to your car yet and I just want you to be safe. For dumb jocks who can't pass high school these guys have shown an amazing amount of planning and care."

Jenna chewed on her lower lip. "I don't want those thugs to keep me from living in my own apartment. I'll be careful and I've got the dogs. I'll be fine."

Sunday, October 9, 10:25 P.M.

She was home. Finally. Driving her friend's car. Shame about her Jag. Somebody spent a lot of time restoring that baby. She could have been killed , he thought, and huffed a chuckle. When he was done with her, she'd wish she'd been behind the wheel of that car instead of her friend.

He watched her jog up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. Studied the construction of the balconies jutting away from the building. They would easily hold his weight and the weight of his kit. He frowned a little. He'd be bulky tonight, but that was the price of a house call. He really didn't want to drag her off to the barn. She was a lot bigger than the others, a veritable Amazon compared to the petite Lorraine and Alev. Samantha had been taller, but so willowy. He smiled remembering how pretty she'd been. How pretty they'd all been.

No, house calls weren't nearly as much fun. He'd miss the extended play opportunities the barn offered. He'd just have to make this one night with Miss Marshall count He'd been watching and waiting for this opportunity for days, even leaving Alev tonight, although Alev was just about gone. All used up. His heart quickened in anticipation. With her size and strength Miss Marshall would put up quite a struggle, so one night just might be enough.

He sat patiently as she walked her dog. Lifted his binoculars and watched her putter around her kitchen. Microwave her dinner and eat it at her dining-room table. From here he could just see the light glinting off the glass covering her diplomas and cursed the fact that from his vantage point in the parking lot he could only see both her and her apartment from above her waist. A lot of good stuff happened below the waist. He tingled just thinking about it.

And wondered if it felt any different killing a smart woman versus a stupid one.

Well, he'd find out tonight.

Monday, October 10, 1:00 A.M.

The bright light shining in her eyes lurched Jenna from deep sleep into instant awareness. The sharp bite of the knife at her throat made her flinch and obey the growled words.

"Don't move."

Quickly she fought past the mental confusion of deep sleep. "Who-"

"Shut up." And she heard the loud ripping sound of tape. Then her mouth was covered and she realized whoever this was either had use of both hands or wasn't alone. But when the light never wavered, she knew it was freestanding. That he had use of both hands. That he was alone. She also knew she owned no such light, which meant he'd come prepared. And that knowledge frightened her more than if he hadn't been alone.

He'd broken into her apartment. And gotten past the dogs . Jim and Jean-Luc. Where were the dogs ? she wondered frantically, then forced herself to calm. Forced herself to draw deep even breaths through her nose. Forced herself to remember everything she'd been taught in self-defense. Clenched her fists under the blanket.

Which he ripped away like a magician with a tablecloth. "Now you'll pay, Miss Marshall."

Miss Marshall. Only one person called her Miss Marshall like that.

Victor Lutz. His image flashed before her, his huge hulking body, big hands. Cold, dark, threatening eyes.

Oh, my God . The panic bubbled up. He's going to kill me. I never should have confronted him that way over Casey. Now he's going to kill me .

Jenna, stop. Breathe. Think.

She stopped. Breathed. Tried to think.

She knew her physical capability. She'd never be able to overpower a man of Victor Lutz's size and strength, even with all her training in martial arts. But she might be able to surprise him long enough to get away. To get help.

Jenna stiffened her body, waiting for him to touch her, waiting for the slightest decrease in the pressure of the knife at her throat, the slightest indication he was distracted, knowing she'd have only one chance to surprise him and escape.

Instead, the pressure on the knife increased, ever so slightly. It hurt. A lot. A whimper built in her throat and with it, the panic.

He's going to kill me. Steven will find me, but it will be too late. I'll be dead.

Jenna, stop. Breathe. Think.

A heavy hand covered her breast through the worn T-shirt she wore to bed. Pinched her nipple hard. She jerked a breath through her nose. Couldn't contain the whimper this time.

"Do you like that?" he growled. He shoved her nightshirt up to her stomach and fingered her panties. She could hear his breathing grow harder. Faster. "Pretty."

She couldn't control the urge to close her legs, but he just laughed softly. His hand disappeared and she heard the soft scrape of leather? No. Plastic? Possibly. A bag? Maybe. No, she thought hearing a snap, click, snap, click. Metal buckles, opening up and hitting a plastic case. She captured each detail, knowing if she got away she'd need to tell the police everything she could.