Cynthia Eden - After The Dark

“Tell me about the order.”

Tammy’s fingers fluttered toward a brightly decorated bag. “The order came in for the Dom Pérignon 1998. He wanted it delivered, and I just finished preparing it.”

Blake’s gaze raked over the store. “No security cameras here?”

“No...but he didn’t come in. The gentleman placed the order over the phone.”

Figured. Latham could have made that call from anyplace. But Blake would still get a track going on the shop’s phone records and he’d—

“Did you say he ordered a Dom Pérignon 1998?” Samantha’s voice was tight. “That’s a very expensive champagne.”

“It costs four hundred dollars.” Tammy licked her lips.

Blake gave a low whistle. “And you didn’t think it was odd to get a phone order that big?”

Tammy shook her head, sending her hair sliding over her cheeks. “We get big orders like that all the time. Especially when the high-profile golfers are staying at the hotel down on the Point.”

Great.

“That’s Cameron’s favorite champagne.” Samantha’s voice was too tight. “Every single time he celebrated, he made sure he had that on hand. I remember the first time he ever got it...it was the night we received our bachelor’s degrees.”

Blake flattened his hands on the counter. “Who was that order being shipped to?”

Tammy swallowed. “Should I call my manager?”

“Who was getting the order?”

Tammy shoved the bag toward him. “Samantha Dark. He gave me her address. I was going there, but—Go ahead. Just take it. Read the card.”

Fury burned in his blood. The bastard was sending this to Samantha? He yanked open the bag, shoving white tissue paper out of his way. He pulled out the bottle but barely glanced at it. Instead, his focus was on the small, white card.

“I wrote exactly what he said,” Tammy murmured.

Samantha leaned in closer, her arm brushing against Blake’s shoulder.

Found you, Agent Dark. See you soon. Then we’ll celebrate together.

His back teeth locked together. Oh, hell the fuck no.

“Blake,” Samantha whispered. “We need to talk, right now.”

They needed to find that bastard. Blake would get the local authorities to search with him. They’d tear apart this town.

Samantha caught his hand in hers, and she pulled him back outside. He left the note inside, left a wide-eyed Tammy White for the moment. The bell jingled as the door closed. They stood in front of the shop window, and Samantha stared up at him with an open, desperate gaze.

“Latham,” Blake growled. The bastard thought this was some kind of game? Sending her a fancy champagne, telling her they’d celebrate?

“It’s not him.” Samantha still sounded certain. She looked down the quiet street. A few older couples were walking, window-shopping, not even glancing at them. “Something else is going on. I can see it.”

Blake waited, wanting to know exactly what she was thinking.

“I can’t be wrong again.”

She hadn’t been wrong before. Samantha might not trust her instincts, but he did.

“Cameron wouldn’t use his credit card. He’d know that you’d find him instantly that way. This guy... Don’t you see? He wanted us to come to the shop. He wanted us here.” She looked around once more. “Is he watching now?” Her voice dropped.

His stare shot around the street.

“He didn’t know where I was.” Her voice was soft. Almost sad. “That’s why he said...found you. He didn’t realize where I was, not until today.”

No, no, shit, he didn’t like where this was going, but Blake knew—

“The man in that video wasn’t Cameron, but I think it was someone who admired his...work. Someone who admired him.”

Fuck. Cameron had been a total mind screwer. Had pulling in another killer been part of his sick “experiment” all along?

“Cameron vanished. I vanished. And the perp in that video was just left with a whole lot of rage. He wanted to take that rage out on someone.”

Every muscle in his body ached because his fury was so strong. “You.” The perp had mentioned her in the video. He’d ordered that champagne for her... Agent Dark.

Her beautiful eyes stared up at him. “I left DC and cut all ties. Maybe that perp couldn’t find me. He knew, though, that if anyone was aware of where I’d gone, if anyone could find me...”

No, no, hell, no. Blake swallowed. “It would be me.”

“You come to town—” her voice was a whisper “—and within hours, Cameron’s credit card is used. This guy picks the champagne that he knows Cameron favored, and he sends me a message.”

Found you.

Her breath sighed out. “I think this guy—whoever he is—I think he followed you here.”

“Samantha...”

“I think he killed Kristy Wales—made the video—I think he did it all so that he could catch the FBI’s attention.”

The son of a bitch sure had caught it.

“Then he waited. He watched and he...hunted.” Once more, she peered around the street, as if searching for the killer. “He’s still hunting. Because he’s found the prey he wants. He’s found me.”

He was the one to lunge forward and lock his hands around her shoulders. “You’re saying that bastard came here to kill you?”

“Kill me...or torture me into telling him what he wants to know.”

“Just what the fuck does he want to know?” He glanced back through the shop window. Tammy White hadn’t moved.

“Where Cameron is. He wants Cameron. As he said in the video, I screwed everything up. Now he wants to set it right.”

By hurting her? By killing her? Hell, no. That couldn’t happen, and suddenly the control he’d always fought to keep with her, it shattered.

She wasn’t FBI. They weren’t partners. There were no rules stopping him from taking just what he wanted.

The one thing he wanted? The one thing he needed desperately?

Her.

Samantha. She’s what I need.

And she was the woman he’d just put in danger.

CHAPTER FOUR

“LET ME GET this straight.” Captain Roger Lewis steepled his fingers just beneath his chin. His dark eyes were sharp and hard as they swept over Blake. “You want me to do a full-scale manhunt because you believe I’ve got a potential serial killer on the loose in my town?”

Beside Blake, Samantha stiffened. He saw her tense from the corner of his eye, but he kept his attention focused on the local police captain. After he’d talked to Tammy White, he’d known that he needed to bring the local authorities in right away.

“Cameron Latham?” Lewis’s eyebrows rose. “That bastard is here?”

Lewis was an older African American man, probably in his early sixties, but still fit and strong. Intelligence glittered in his gaze, and the guy hadn’t minced words when he brought Blake and Samantha into his small office.

But the way he talked about Latham...the way the guy’s stare had just cut toward Samantha... Why do I feel as if I’m missing something here?

Blake cleared his throat. “The Bureau tracked the call that the suspect made—the call came from here in the city. The man who used Cameron’s credit card is here,” Blake stated. He was in Fairhope and he was hunting. “You need to alert all of your patrols to be extra vigilant. This man is extremely dangerous. He’s killed before.” Kristy. “And I think he’ll kill again.” He exhaled. “Because Cameron Latham’s credit card was used in this city, we have to operate under the assumption that he may be present. I’m not saying a copycat isn’t at work, I’m saying we need to follow all precautions. Your men should receive an immediate description of Latham, and they need to step up their patrols in the area.” Four months ago, everyone had known about Latham, but people—even law enforcement officials—had short memories.