Blood Kiss (Savage Security Series Book 1) Page 10

  Mike would make sure he met these men on Monday. He could tell a lot about a person by their eyes. As he sat there looking at Alisha, he saw compassion and love. She was going to change his life, and he wouldn’t let her go easily when all of this was over.

  He leaned forward again and looked into the box of crazy. He pulled out the Beanie Boo husky. “This is what you found in your car?”

  Damn that stalker for taking something cute and fun and turning it into an item of oppression. “Yes, that’s it.” If it had been given to her from a friend, she would have thought it was cute, but now she’d never look at stuffed animals the same way.

  He dug through the box and noticed the chocolates from the candy store. He pulled out the box and lifted the lid. It looked full. “You didn’t eat any of these, did you?”

  She scoffed. “No. Those things could be laced with poison or some sort of sleeping agent.” She shivered. Sometimes paranoia was a good thing. “Who knows what he did with those things. No,” she said adamantly. “I did not eat any of them.”

  Mike tossed the chocolate caramels back into the box of crazy and rested his elbows on his knees. “This is good stuff,” he tilted his head towards the box. “I bet the notes are covered with fingerprints. We can run them and see if we can end this.”

  Alisha quickly sat forward, and the recliner rocked with her movement. “You can do that? Run fingerprints?”

  Mike nodded. “Sure. That’s what we do.”

  Alisha almost felt giddy. If her stalker had a record, then they’d know who he was and could stop him. She’d felt empowered when she walked out of Young Guns, but now she felt optimistic. She popped up from the recliner. “Let’s get to it. What are we waiting for?”

  “Do you have some baggies?” Mike asked. He stood and picked up the box. “We should bag these so no one else’s prints get on them and to keep his prints from getting smeared.”

  “Yeah, over here.” Alisha walked into the kitchen and opened a drawer. She pulled out a box of gallon and pint sized baggies. “Will these work?”

  “Perfect.” Mike set the box on the kitchen counter and placed each item in its own bag. He felt good about this situation. They were filling in the blanks and working the puzzle. Before long, he’d know who was bothering her and would put an end to it.

  Like she said, he knew how to make a body disappear.

  13

  Mike pulled into the parking lot at Savage Securities and looked over at Alisha. She’d been quiet most of the drive. She’d kept looking in the side mirror and pulled down the visor a couple times to stare into the mirror. He knew what she was doing. She was looking for a tail. There wasn’t one to see. He’d been doing the same thing. No one followed them to his place of work.

  Mike turned off the truck and placed his hand on her knee. “Hey, you’re safe with me,” he assured her. He hated that she was scared. He’d seen too many lives destroyed in his lifetime, and he was going to do whatever it took to protect her. He’d failed his sister, but he wasn’t going to fail her.

  She placed her hand on top of his and noticed the difference between them. Her hands were tiny and smooth. His hands were large, rough and she imagined very deadly, but that didn’t scare her. It gave her hope. “I know,” she replied, glancing up at him. “Let’s do this.” She removed her hand from his and opened the truck door.

  She hopped down and stretched, taking a deep breath as she looked at the building before her. She held her hand to her forehead to shield herself from the sunlight. Nestled in an office park, surrounded by other buildings, it resembled any other place of business. The building’s walls reflected the light that shone upon them. It was too bright for her to make out how many floors the building had, but she figured around five or six.

  “This where you spend your days?” she asked as Mike came around the front of the truck.

  He slipped his hand into hers and led the way. He chuckled and said, “My office is the world. This is base camp.” They walked to the building’s entrance. He held his badge against the sensor. It beeped, and he pulled open the door. She walked in first.

  The main lobby was nice. In the center of the lobby was a fountain with heron sculptures standing in the water. A few sofas and chairs encircled coffee tables in the open space.

  Mike pointed to the right of the fountain and said, “We’re on the first floor.” Mike led her to another set of doors and held his badge against the sensor. The door beeped, and they walked into another sitting room. A ‘Savage Securities’ sign hung behind the receptionist’s desk. Contemporary chairs and sitting tables filled the void between the entrance and the desk.

  “This is where the magic happens?” she asked, turning in a circle and taking it all in. Some abstract art hung on the walls. There were a few cases that displayed military memorabilia.

  Not the kind of magic his mind instantly went to. “You’d die of boredom. A bunch of men crossing their arms and grunting all day. I’m sure the excitement of little kiddoes is much more to your liking.”

  He couldn’t imagine her in his world. She didn’t belong there. She belonged somewhere safe and beautiful. That was why he did what he did, to maintain the ‘safe bubble’ that so many took for granted. He understood that people didn’t even know what they didn’t even know. There was no way that she could even begin to fathom his past, and that was okay. He wanted her in his future.

  Alisha wasn’t so sure about that. She could watch Mike all day and never get bored.

  “Follow me,” Mike waved his hand and led her down a hallway. She tried to read the signs posted on the doors as they walked past, but most of them were acronyms. She had no idea what went on behind those closed doors, and she didn’t bother asking.

  Mike stopped at the door labeled LAB, put his key card to the sensor, and opened the door. Lab tables and science paraphernalia filled the room. Mike went to one of the tables and set down the box of crazy. “I’m going to check these for fingerprints and see if we get any hits.”

  He pulled out the box of chocolate caramels and set them on the table, along with the handwritten note that the stalker had placed under her windshield wiper. “We’ll start with these. The handwritten note will definitely have his prints on it. Then we’ll cross-check them with the prints we lift from the chocolates box. If we have a match, we know we have his prints.”

  Alisha nodded and looked into the box of creepy gifts. She understood why the police hadn’t tried to lift fingerprints from her items. No crime had been committed. Plus, they didn’t have the money or manpower to look into such things, but it still bothered her. Weren’t the police supposed to keep people safe? Protect them from danger? She didn’t want a confrontation with the person stalking her. She wasn’t foolish enough to imagine overpowering a grown male if a confrontation did occur. She wanted him stopped before he did anything to her.

  As she watched Mike get the prints and upload them to the computer system, she couldn’t believe how lucky she’d been to run into him at the gun store. It saddened her that his sister had been killed, but it helped her understand his motivation. He was personally invested in helping her, and she could never repay him for that.

  She couldn’t deny her physical attraction to him and combined with his generous nature, there was no way that she could withstand him. A sliver of worry panged her heart as she acknowledged that his actions could have more to do with guilt over his sister’s murder than feelings for her. It was clear that he was attracted to her; she felt it in his touch and in his kiss. She just hoped the attraction lasted after they dealt with her stalker.

  The computer beeped, and Mike’s eyes locked on her. The warmth in his gaze and the heat from his touch warmed her so completely that she felt as if he’d melted her, like chocolate warmed by a toasted marshmallow.

  He gently wrapped his hand around her arm. “Come here,” he said, his voice gruff and sexy. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped an arm around her waist. “We have a match.” He looked into h
er eyes and felt as if he were looking at an angel. He’d lived in the belly of man’s wickedness for so long that sometimes it was hard to believe that good people still existed. He had no intention of letting her go when this was over.

  Mike clicked the mouse, and an image and police report popped up on the screen. “It looks like someone has a criminal record. Do you recognize him?” He studied her face as she studied the screen. Her eyebrows pulled down as she stared at the man.

  It took her a moment, but she finally recognized the guy in the mug shot. His sandy-blond hair was scraggly now, but his blue eyes looked the same. The name under the picture said Timothy Conway. “I know him. He works at Fancy’s Chocolates. I just call him Tim when I’m in there.” She had a hard time believing that he’d stalk her. He was always polite when she went in there, and she’d never noticed him checking her out. He flirted shamelessly with the college students that came into the store. “Did his prints show up on the note too?”

  “No, just the box of chocolates.”

  “What’s he done?” She scanned the computer screen. She wasn’t sure if digging through the county police records was completely legal, but she didn’t want to ask Mike and forfeit deniability. Although she was pretty certain ignorance wasn’t a solid defense.

  Mike ran his fingers up her spine and stopped on her neck. He gently rubbed her tense muscles and felt her relax into him. “He’s been arrested for drug possession. Mr. Conway also has a D.U.I.”

  Alisha turned a little in Mike’s lap so that she could look into his face. “How often do you do background checks on people?” she asked curiously.

  He noticed the slight twitch under her eye and chuckled. She felt the laugh rumble in his chest. “Are you really asking me if I’ve done a background check on you?” he asked. She was adorable. He could tell by the innocence in her eyes that there was nothing in her history that she needed to be ashamed of. Innocence and genuine light that bursts from a person’s face didn’t occur once certain lines had been crossed. The worst thing she’d probably done was speed, and that was probably within five miles of the speed limit.

  “Have you?” she asked, starting to worry about how much he’d dug into her background. Had he asked her questions that he already knew the answers too? Did he already know about her parents and play ignorant when she talked about them? Suddenly she felt violated. She didn’t like the idea of someone combing through her banking accounts and private life.

  “No, but you’re making me curious.” He eyed her with a smirk on his face. “What exactly are you afraid of me finding?”

  “I don’t have anything to hide,” she said confidently with a raised brow. “What about you?” She placed her finger over his heart. “What would I find if I ran a background check on you?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  He laughed again, this time pulling her into him. He planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’d find absolutely nothing.”

  She pulled away, still sitting on his lap, and stared into his face. The scars and tattoos told her that if she were to read an account of his life that she’d be struck silent. “So there’s nothing on you? You don’t exist in any database?”

  “I exist, and my record is as pure as freshly fallen snow. What about yours?” He tilted his head and examined her face. “Shall we type your name in and see what pops up?”

  “Go ahead,” she replied with a shrug. “You’ll just snoop the next time you have a chance anyway. I might as well be here so I can hear how impressed you are with my sterling record. And mine hasn’t been altered by Uncle Sam,” she added haughtily.

  “I’m calling your bluff.” He punched in ‘Alisha Woods’ with one hand and then leaned back in the chair. Several ‘Alisha Woods’ popped up from various cities. He found the correct one and clicked. Her driver’s license popped up, and her record was clean. “Wow,” he whistled. “Not even a moving violation or parking ticket.” He looked at her with mock impression.

  She gave him a snarky smile and said, “Sorry to disappoint. Hope you like the good girls, because that’s what you’re getting with me.”

  “Baby, I knew you were a good girl the moment you stepped into the gun store.” He ran his fingertips down her arm and lightly pressed his lips to hers. His tongue traced along the seam and slipped inside on her moan. Pulling her closer to him, he slipped his hand under her shirt and brushed her soft skin with his fingers. Her skin reacted to his touch, goose bumps pebbling with excitement. He felt her chest expand with each breath and traced his fingertips along her ribs towards her breast. She wiggled in his lap, readjusting herself and he knew she felt his desire. He wanted to act on it, but instead he pulled away.

  She was special. His feelings for her were special. And his place of work was definitely not special. This wasn’t the place for intimacy, especially since there was a camera watching them.

  “Let’s do another and confirm which set of fingerprints belongs to our stalker.” He helped her stand from his lap and then he stood. He pulled out the note that accompanied the Beanie Boo. “Having a third source for our prints will help confirm which fingerprint is the stalkers.”

  Alisha nodded. It seemed amazing that they could have the stalker’s fingerprints but not know who he was. How was she supposed to find out? If he wasn’t in the system, then having his prints didn’t really matter. Was she supposed to feel better knowing that he didn’t have a criminal record?

  Mike found multiple matching prints and chose one to compare with the other two he’d already run. He uploaded it and pulled her in for another kiss as the computer ran. When it finished, it beeped.

  Mike looked at the screen. “It’s a match, but he isn’t in the system.” He looked at her, wishing he had better news to tell her.

  “We still don’t know who he is,” she stated.

  “That’s right,” Mike replied. “But we do know that when we find him, we can link him to these ‘gifts’.” He watched her nod, but she was a hundred miles away. He leaned against the table and pulled her to his body and gently stroked her back.

  Being in Mike’s arms was heaven. He smelled so good, and his hands knew how to work her body to relieve her stress. But the truth still remained. No matter how good he could make her feel, she still had a stalker, and she had no clue who he was.

  14

  Pacey parked a street over from Alisha’s house and casually walked towards her home. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would soon be calling it ‘their’ house. When he first saw her place, he’d been impressed. It had been a lifelong fantasy of his to live in such comfort and luxury. He knew he could enjoy long days cuddling with her in front of the fireplace. Would they conceive their children on a rug before a roaring fire?

  He popped a Tic Tac into his mouth and tongued it, rubbing the sweet nub against the top of his mouth. Is that how her nipple would feel? A hard nub for him to suck and tease. He needed to stop that train of thought. He couldn’t get caught walking around with a raging boner. The people of a classy neighborhood like this would probably find that detestable.

  So instead of thinking about Alisha, he focused on the beauty of fall. The autumn foliage brightened the yards. Colorful leaves dangled like ornaments and crunched underfoot. The scents and colors of fall always reminded him of his childhood. Those had been wonderful days. He’d spent the days with his mother as she homeschooled him. They’d picnic in the yard and canoe on the lake. Sometimes they’d walk through the woods to their ‘special spot’ and they’d read, her leaning against a tree and him with his head in her lap. She’d read her romance novels while he devoured all kinds of non-fiction and scientific books. His childhood had been so peaceful. No strife or conflict interrupted his days because he always did as Mother wished.

  He clenched his fist in his jacket pocket in frustration. He’d loved being with Mother, but now, as an adult, he realized that she’d only homeschooled him to control him and to keep him pure. He knew she’d done it in love, but she’d stifled him. And wha
t really frustrated him was that she refused to acknowledge that. He often wondered how his life would be different if she hadn’t homeschooled him during his elementary school days. Would he be a doctor or an astronaut now? He could have been something amazing. The world would know his name. But now he was forced to admit that he would never reach his potential, and it all started when his mother wouldn’t let him go to school with the rest of the kids.

  It wasn’t until middle school that he wore her down. After years of begging, she finally enrolled him in the public school. He’d been thrilled the day she took him to the Goodwill. He usually wore hand-me downs from people in his church, so to purchase school clothes was an incredible first for him.

  As he wandered the store, looking through all the aisles of clothes, he’d fallen in love with a rock band t-shirt. Fortunately Mother didn’t know who they were. She bought the t-shirt, and he wore it with pride. He still had that t-shirt somewhere in the back of his closet. He would never get rid of it. It was a symbol of his first breath of independence.

  On the first day of school, he’d been excited and scared. He wanted to make friends and be like everyone else. But that didn’t happen. Instead, he had a front row seat to the good life everyone else enjoyed. He watched them in their cliques and realized that he’d never be able to infiltrate their gangs. He’d missed out on those early years when kids could still be nice and accepting. He’d tried to be friendly, but they seemed repulsed by him.

  At night he’d look in the mirror and wonder what was so hideous about him that people shunned him? He didn’t have a deformity that could possibly scare people, and he didn’t have a communicable disease, but he did have a nickname. “Pasty Pacey.” Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could still hear them chanting, “Pasty Pacey.”