Mallory Kane - Silent Guardian

Archer didn’t move. “Not yet.” He put a hand on either wall. With his height and his broad shoulders, he loomed over her. The fact that he was so much bigger and stronger than her and was blocking her way should have alarmed her, but oddly she felt safe, protected.

“Do you know the person who’s following you?”

“Following me? How—” Her throat closed up. She hadn’t told anyone except the police detective about the dark sedan. It took her a moment to get her voice back. “How do you know that?”

“I saw a car pull out behind you last night.”

“You did?” A small shred of hope dangled in front of her like a carrot. Maybe if he thought she was in danger, he would help her after all. “You were watching?” “This house is on a hill. I could see the moon glinting off a metal surface. Then after you turned, it moved. It wasn’t somebody you know?”

She shook her head. “It’s him. I can feel it. It’s like he’s toying with me. If I slow down, he slows down with me. If I try to maneuver under a streetlight so I can see the make of his car or get a glimpse of the front plate, he hangs back or turns.” She shuddered. “Last night he followed me all the way to my apartment complex.”

Archer pinned her with his glare. “You knew he was behind you and you led him to your apartment?”

“I live in a gated community.”

He cursed. “That only works if you’re behind the gate.”

“The gatehouse is well-lit. He turned away when I pulled up to the gate. What else could I have done?”

“You could have turned around and come back here. You could have called the police.” He massaged his right palm.

“Right. I called Detective Banes last week. Fat lot of good it did.”

“So now the Lock Rapist knows where you live.”

She nodded miserably.

“Okay. Get out your cell phone. I want to give you my number and get yours.”

She retrieved her cell phone from her purse and entered his number.

“Now. You should move—immediately. And hire a security service.”

“I just moved there . It was the only gated complex in Nashville that I could afford, and I can barely pay the rent now. There’s no way I can move again. And I’d never manage to pay a private security firm.” She managed a small smile. “So it looks like I’m on my own. Now can I leave?”

His brow furrowed and he studied her with those dark eyes. She stepped forward, violating his comfort zone and her own. She felt heat radiating from him through the barriers of their clothes. It had to be her imagination.

He lowered his arms and stood aside, giving her a free path out of the lane.

“I’ll follow you home tonight.”

She turned to look at him. “What? No. I can’t let you do that. I’m fine—besides…”

He watched her expectantly.

She swallowed. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

A tight smile lit his face. “I doubt it. Hell, most days I feel like I’m going nuts myself.”

“I think he only follows me on Tuesday. But then I’ve only noticed him twice, so that’s hardly a representative sample.”

“No, but it could be significant. The attacks have occurred in a regular pattern too. June and December, with one exception.” Bitterness edged his voice.

She considered his words. “My sister’s attack was this past December. When exactly were the others?”

“December two years ago, then the next June, then December again—” he paused for an instant “—then February, June, and your sister this past December.”

February . The one anomaly in the rapist’s pattern. Archer’s wife’s attack. “And you were on the case for—?”

“I took over as lead detective after the second rape.” He wiped his face. The pale web of scars on the back of his hand glimmered in the harsh range lights. “The first thing I did was cut off all media attention. He wasn’t happy about that.”

“Media attention? Why would he want attention?” Resa asked.

“Serial offenders typically crave the notoriety. Plus, they need to gloat over how far behind the investigators are. They’ll go to almost any lengths to keep the media’s attention focused on them.”

Resa’s stomach churned with a sudden relization. “Oh, Archer. That’s why he attacked your wife,” she whispered.

He nodded shortly, and Resa saw his jaw muscles tense. “This guy is obviously very organized. Maybe not by choice. His job could force him into a pattern. Or it could be his home situation. He may have a family—”

Resa gasped. “A family? That can’t be possible. How could a man with a wife and children do the things he does?”

Archer turned off a bank of lights, throwing the firing range into darkness. His office and the entrance to the stairs were the only lighted areas. “Many serial offenders have families. If you were to look in on them at home, they’d seem like ordinary working stiffs. He might even coach Little League.”

“Oh my God.” She’d thought of the Lock Rapist as a shadowy entity who emerged to attack his victims, then faded back into some dark abyss until his next attack.

She’d never considered the possibility that he had a life.

“How can someone who has a family—a wife—” her voice choked.

Archer shook his head. “There are certain common predictors of deviant behavior or violence. But nothing’s ever that easy. No one knows why one man crosses the line and another doesn’t.” He stepped into his office and grabbed a set of keys from his desktop. “Are you ready?”

“You don’t have to follow me home. Like I told you, I’ve only noticed him on Tuesdays.” The idea that the man who’d attacked her sister had placed following her on his regular schedule spooked her.

Tuesday: pick up milk, call the plumber, follow Theresa Wade .

An icy chill slid down her spine and she shuddered.

Archer turned out the lights in his office, then placed a guiding hand on the small of her back. “Let’s go.”

Resa opened her mouth to protest again, but Archer’s warm protective touch at the small of her back made her feel safer than she’d felt in months, maybe ever.

On the other hand, his certainty that she needed protection increased the cold fear that had haunted her ever since her sister’s attack.

The Lock Rapist thought she could recognize him. He considered her a threat. And when he caught her, he’d kill her.

Chapter Three

The following Tuesday Earl Slattery got out of the shower and grabbed two towels. Mary Nell didn’t like for him to use two—wasteful, she said.

But tonight was special. He scrubbed his wet hair with one and wrapped the other around his waist. Then he grinned at himself in the mirror.

He’d suggested to his boss that having one night a week set aside for evening installations and repair of security equipment would increase business. His boss had gone for it, so Earl had volunteered for late shift on Tuesdays.

It was perfect. Especially now that he’d picked up the scent of the woman he’d seen that night. If he busted his butt to finish by nine o’clock on Tuesday nights, he had plenty of time to follow Theresa home.

After her initial suspicion, Mary Nell had gotten used to his late hours on Tuesdays. That sure made it easier on him. As long as he was careful and got his installations done in plenty of time, he could do anything he wanted.

It bothered him that Theresa Wade was going to Detective Archer’s gun range. He’d considered going in there himself, to see if she was shooting or if she and Archer had a thing going.

But that was high risk, and Earl avoided as many high-risk behaviors as he could.

Last Tuesday night, he’d discovered a way to slip inside the fence that surrounded Theresa’s gated community, so earlier tonight he’d sneaked in, bypassed the security system in a matter of seconds, and entered her apartment. He’d slipped a note under the edge of her windowsill, as if it had been slid under from outside. Then he’d driven out to Detective Archer’s house, waited until he and Theresa left, and stuck the second note in Archer’s mailbox.