Secret Admirer

But he just set down his wine glass—still half full. “I enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”

Was that it? He was just going to leave?

One brow lifted as Zander asked, “Walk me out?”

“Of course.” She put down her wine and scrambled to her feet. He was being a gentleman, not pushing for anything…more from her. That was good. He’d always been very courteous with her. Charming. Nice. She hurried toward the door, but his hand flew out and caught hers. He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles.

“You spilled a little wine.” Another kiss against her skin. “Tastes as sweet as you.”

And it was hard for Alice to breathe again. Desire flooded through her. Made her want to taste him again. Sweet wasn’t the way she’d describe Zander’s taste.

Alice didn’t move, though. She knew better than to take what she wanted.

He released her hand. Zander’s gaze searched hers. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

“I was really wrong about a man before. I don’t want to be wrong again.” A stark answer.

Zander shook his head. “I want to keep you safe. I don’t want to hurt you.”

There were lots of ways to be hurt.

“Did he…did he hurt you, Alice?” Zander’s voice had dropped to a low, lethal tone.

She knew about all the stories that had circulated in the newspapers. It would have been impossible to miss them. Some of the tales had claimed that she’d been Hugh’s secret partner. The lover who craved his dark side and helped him commit his brutal kills. Other stories had painted her as the tragic victim. The woman who’d quietly suffered abuse and torture at Hugh’s hands. The woman who hadn’t been free until he’d died.

The truth, though, was that she wasn’t either of those women. She hadn’t known what Hugh was doing, and Hugh had never hurt her. At least… “Not physically. But he sure as hell did a number on my mind.” Hardly the sort of first date talk that Zander typically received.

Why wasn’t he running from her as fast as he could?

Zander’s head cocked to the right. “You had no idea what Hugh was doing?”

Her stomach twisted. “If I knew, I never would have agreed to marry the guy.” Her breath came out on a hard release. “They looked like me.” A soft whisper.

Zander’s jaw locked. His eyes narrowed.

But she drew herself up, straightening her shoulders. Thunder rumbled again. “Thank you for a lovely night.” Then, before she lost her courage, Alice darted forward. She pressed a quick kiss to Zander’s lips.

A start of surprise rolled through him. He reached for her, but she’d already retreated. “I think you can beat the rain home.” She opened the door. Alice could smell the rain in the distance as she walked onto her porch. The old wood groaned beneath her feet.

Zander followed her out. “I’m not Hugh Collins.”

Thank God.

“I’m not some crazed killer who is going to screw with your head. That’s not what this is about.”

Alice glanced back at him. “Why do you want to be bothered with me and my baggage?” She’d tried to warn him, again and—

He brought his body closer to her. Barely a breath separated them. “It’s not a fucking bother. I like you. I want to get to know you.”

Her lips started to curl. How long had it been since someone told her that? Since a man hadn’t looked at her as if she was the freak in the room? Zander stared at her with a clear, steady gaze, and Alice felt normal. Like she could almost have a regular life again.

His head bent, and he pressed a kiss to her lips. Her mouth parted for him, and his tongue slid inside. The man sure knew how to kiss. She could feel her toes curling in her strappy shoes. Her hands rose and pressed to his chest. A strong, muscled chest. Zander was a big guy, tall and muscled, and there was just something about him…

He slowly eased back. Zander stared at her a moment in the darkness. “I’ll see you again soon, Alice.” Then he was heading away, striding off the porch and into the night as lightning flashed in the dark sky.

She didn’t go back inside, not yet. She watched him, and she became aware of a warmth flaring in her chest. At first, she didn’t even realize what that warmth was because it had been so long since she’d felt…

Happy.

***

“I feel like a fucking asshole.” Zander stalked the confines of his cabin like a caged tiger, his phone clenched tightly in his hand. “She was sweet and kind, and she was freaking worried about me. Trying to make sure I understood what the hell I was getting myself into just by having one date with her.”

He couldn’t get the image of Alice’s smile out of his mind. And the woman’s taste…he’d never had anything sweeter. When he’d kissed her, he’d never expected to go from zero to fuck, yes, in a matter of seconds. But something had ignited inside of him. A deep, twisting hunger…

For her.

He’d known Alice was attractive. Beautiful. Sexy. He hadn’t known that his dick would stand up and applaud the second she kissed him. He also hadn’t known…

“I don’t like lying to her.” It was her eyes. So deep. When she looked at him, it was like she was staring into his soul. “If we’re wrong and she wasn’t working with Hugh, then I’m just screwing with some innocent woman’s head.” And he’d told her he wouldn’t do that. He’d fucking told her! “The FBI has been invading her life—”

“We’ve got warrants and legal paperwork out the ass to cover us,” Randall cut in. “You know I wouldn’t have let anyone step so much as a foot into her cabin otherwise.”

“We’ve been sabotaging—”

“Five dead women. Five. Those five were tied to Hugh Collins. But what about victim six? What the hell about her? Julianna Stiles died two months ago, and everything I’ve got is pointing to the killer being the Secret Admirer. Only a dead man can’t kill.”

Sonofabitch. “Alice seems innocent.”

“And I told you, don’t fall for a pretty face. She got two calls tonight—fucking two that traced back to the burner phone that was used to contact Julianna’s family.”

Every muscle in Zander’s body locked down. “What?”

“You know we’re monitoring her line. And folks might like to think burner phones are untraceable, but that shit is just wrong. We recognized the number that called Alice. Same fucking burner phone used with Julianna. We were triangulating the signal, but Alice was smart enough not to talk long enough for us to get a lock on the caller—”

“I got the second call. I answered it. Not her.” Zander just hadn’t realized what the hell had been happening. “No one said a damn word to me when I answered. The caller didn’t speak.”

“Did you hear any sounds? Breathing? Background noise?” Randall pounced.

Zander cracked the blinds and stared into the darkness. The storm was close now, so very close. “No, nothing. But I’ll tell you this…when she got the first call, it made her nervous.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because when Alice gets nervous, she uses her left hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. It’s a dead giveaway. She picked up the phone, all normal, but when the caller didn’t speak, she got spooked.”

“She could have gotten spooked because you were there when her partner made contact.”

Randall wanted Alice to be the bad guy. Her being bad would make the case much easier. They could swoop in, lock her up, get her to roll on anyone who’d helped her…and no more dead women. Case finally closed. But Zander wasn’t so sure. “I don’t think she’s a killer.”

“And why the hell not? Because she’s got pretty blue eyes? Because she can kiss well? And, yeah, we saw you making out on her porch. Gave our surveillance crew quite the show, Z.”

“Stop being a dick.” A curt demand.

Silence.

Zander sucked in a sharp breath. “She doesn’t play as the killer to me. She seems nice.”

&nbs

p; “So did Bundy. Why else do you think he had such an easy time getting to his targets? Look, dammit, Hugh didn’t kill her even though Alice fit his victim profile to a T. There’s something about her that we’re missing. We have to figure out what that shit is.” Randall’s sigh carried over the phone. “Tell me you learned something useful tonight.”

Other than the damn phone call? The two calls that were making his stomach knot. “We’ve been in her place before. You searched it. You know she’s not hiding anything there.”

“But her guard was lowered with you. Did she say anything about Collins? Did you push her?”

Zander could see the faint lights from her cabin. “She’s still freaked because the victims looked like her. When she told me that, I could see guilt on her face. Like she blamed herself because they died.”

“Or…maybe she felt guilty because she was in on their deaths.”

The guy had her tried and convicted in his mind. “I don’t like the phone calls.” Zander glared into the night. “You’re sure they came from the same burner phone?” Julianna’s parents had received one call right after their daughter had been taken. A robotic voice had told them that the caller “admired” their daughter. And then…five days later, another call had come through for the desperate parents. This time, the caller had told them where to find the body. The distorted voice had given them directions, then simply said, “She wasn’t perfect.”

And when the Feds had found Julianna’s remains, no, she hadn’t been perfect any longer—because the bastard who’d hurt her had tortured her before he’d put his knife in her heart.

“We’re sure it was the same phone. The same person who called your precious Alice tonight also called Julianna’s parents.”

When Alice had received her calls, Unknown Caller had appeared on her phone’s screen. But, just because that phrase had appeared, it sure as shit didn’t mean you couldn’t figure out who the hell had just called. Especially when you were the FBI.

“Zander.” Frustration beat in Randall’s voice. “Alice May has never been a target before.”

“She wasn’t a target to Hugh. But Hugh is lying in a cemetery outside of Savannah. This guy hunting now—this copycat—” His suspicion. Zander thought they were looking for some wannabe who’d gotten confidential information about the case—information that hadn’t been given to the Press. Like the fact that rose petals were sprinkled around the dead bodies. That bit had never been released. The killer had carefully arranged red rose petals around his victims. Rose petals just like the ones that had been found at the church where Alice had planned to marry Hugh Collins. “If we are dealing with a copycat, then wouldn’t the guy’s ultimate prize be Alice? I mean, hell, killing her could be like paying homage to Hugh.” Zander had seen plenty of twisted shit like that during his time in the FBI’s violent crimes division. Folks got fixated on killers. They wanted to emulate them. To be them.

Thunder rumbled.