Amazing Grace (The American Soldier Collection 3) - Page 33

“No,” he replied.

She widened her eyes in shock. “That’s not the answer I want.”

“Tough. This is how it is. You are on a need-to-know basis because we are the investigators. When you need to know something or we feel it’s important for you to know about, then we’ll discuss it.”

“Go to hell, Sandman.” She turned around prepared to walk away but instead abruptly turned back to find Sandman standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest glaring at her. Duke and Big Jay looked none the better.

“Grace, you’ve been through a lot in the last few days. You need some recouping time. All of this stuff is too much for one woman to handle. We want you to feel safe,” Big Jay said.

“Feel safe? Too much to handle? How dare you try to control my life and the information I get privy to? You do not own me. I’m the one that held her pictures in my hand. I held a lock of her hair, not you,” she said, feeling herself lose her cool. She felt entirely frustrated.

When Sandman touched her arm, she pulled it away. “Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to keep me out of this?”

“We’re your protectors. I’ll decide what you need to know.” He reached up and touched her cheek, cupping it with the palm of his hand.

He took a step closer to her and stared down into her eyes. “This is a complicated situation. My brothers and I are working with a lot of investigators to find the one responsible. We can’t and we won’t keep you updated about every bit of progress or failure we achieve. That is not your position or role in this. You’re supposed to feel sa

fe and protected not upset or hurt.”

“Well I don’t feel safe. I’ll never feel safe whether he’s caught or not. It’s how my life is now.” She heard the defeated tone of her voice.

Sandman pulled her into a hug against his chest.

“It just feels that way, Grace. Those emotions will pass when this is all done.” She shook her head and began to push away from him.

She looked up into his eyes. They held no emotion and were dark and skeptical.

“You don’t know. You don’t understand.”

He pulled her tighter, making her gasp in surprise. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist and absorbed the bulk and solidity of his body.

“I know better than you think.”

She didn’t have a clue what that comment meant but before she did something stupid like ask him or hug him, his phone rang.

* * * *

Grace had a terrible headache. Dinner was spent alone as the men were busy on the phone and computers. Something was happening, but they still didn’t let her in on it. She supposed that they had a point. She wasn’t law enforcement. Plus, whatever information they were discovering, they didn’t feel she could assist with. She was leaning her head back against the pillow on the couch when she heard the voice.

“Maybe you should head up to bed. Get a good night’s rest. In the bathroom upstairs you’ll find aspirin in the medicine cabinet,” Sandman told her as she stared at him a moment. She hadn’t even heard him approach. It was probably due to his military training. Her belly muscles tightened. Instead of being annoyed she was aroused. She stood up from the couch.

“Thanks for everything, Sandman. I appreciate your sacrifices. I’m sure it’s hard letting a stranger into your home.” She saw a change in his eyes but then quickly it vanished.

“We’re not strangers anymore. Remember you’re in my personal protective custody program and I did act as your body armor twice.”

She wondered if he was flirting or trying to make up for earlier. She wasn’t certain and figured the best thing to do was go to bed and hope that tomorrow was better.

“Good night.”

She turned and walked out of the room

* * * *

Sandman stayed up a little longer, wondering about Grace, her life and why the killer was so interested in her. He worked on his computer trying to still find a link or some clue he may have missed. His brothers were doing the same and trying to find the connection between the murdered women and the other murders that had been taking place in Houston. It seemed to him that those three victims were connected to the community and building corps for the affordable housing project. Right now it all seemed like coincidence. Nothing concrete linked these people.

As Sandman went over the pictures of the other female victims he could see the same resemblances. All the victims had brown hair, were tall, very beautiful, like models. They all had very good professions or at least high-paying professions and were single.

He looked over the crime scenes again, noting that the killer both strangled his victims and stabbed them with a very sharp, long tool of some kind.

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