Deadly Obsession (6 page)

“Uh, Lilly?” Braden interrupted.

“I’m sorry…well, it doesn’t matter where, but I’ve seen those markings before.” She made a V shape with her hands to illustrate. “The prods used for animals are wider, like the burns on those women. I think that’s what your guy is using. It might explain why the marks are so visible too. Animal skin is tougher so those things are made with higher voltage.”

He frowned, but didn’t respond.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with,” she said as she opened her door.

There were only a couple cars in the parking lot as they made their way to the double doors of the one-story building. Funeral homes in general weren’t the happiest places to hang out, but Watson’s Funeral Home had always creeped her out. Lilly resisted the shudder that threatened to overtake her as Braden held open the door for her.

They both glanced around the empty lobby. From somewhere, speakers pumped out monotonous elevator-style music.

“This way.” Braden motioned toward the left. He opened a door into a hallway.

As they walked down the bright yellow hallway, past visions of holding her aunt’s hand as they came to talk to the funeral director about her parents’ caskets played in her head.

Braden knocked once on the door at the end of the hallway. When no one answered, he eased it open, then glanced back at her. “Reverend Ingram said he’d be around here somewhere. Want to wait in here while I check around?”

She nodded, thankful for the suggestion, and took a seat on the brown leather chair in front of the desk. That annoying music trailing down the hall didn’t help the atmosphere. She tapped her finger against the desk as she waited for Braden to return.

“Lilly.”

She glanced around when someone whispered her name. The door was still open and no one was in the hall.
Great, now I’m imagining voices too.
Closing her eyes, she massaged her temple. She really needed to get a grip.

“Lilly.”

Her eyes flew open at the sound. This time the whisper was a little louder.

“Lilly.” The voice was sing-songy and low and she was pretty sure she hadn’t imagined it.

“Braden?” It didn’t sound like him, but no one else knew she was here. She pushed out of the chair and took a few steps into the hallway. When no one responded, she continued down the hall. Only one door was half-open so she pushed on it with her foot. It creaked open to reveal a room full of display caskets. She fought off a shudder.
Talk about creepy.
Thank God her aunt was having a wake.

Shaking her head, she headed back toward the office. Braden would find her when he was done. There was no sense—

“Liiilly.”

The sing-song voice sounded just like one of the monsters who had killed her team. Her counselor had told her she might have auditory hallucinations too, but she’d
never
thought it could happen. The creepy voice had taunted her as he chopped members of her team into pieces. It was bad enough she had nightmares about it.

Her mouth dried up and she swiveled back toward the open doorway.
Face my fears. I can do this!

Her counselor had warned her that her PTSD could get worse before it got better. She’d just assumed she’d already hit rock bottom. Apparently not.

Whatever was going on was a figment of her imagination and she simply needed to stare it down. Placing a steadying hand on her abdomen, she took a few steps inside. As she gazed around the room, she felt foolish, but also relieved. Forcing her feet to obey, she stepped further inside until she was in the middle of the room. There were six shiny wood coffins with the tops propped up and a display stand of brass and silver hardware.

A soft click sounded behind her. Her heart jumped, but she forced herself to turn around. Her hand flew to her throat.

Her nightmare was standing in front of the door. “You’re not real,” she whispered, the three words scratchy and barely audible.

As chills snaked through her veins, she stared at the sight before her. Black mask, black sweater, black jeans, black shoes and…her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she saw clusters of dirt by his foot. This wasn’t her imagination. He wasn’t some shadowy figure in her dreams.

Instinct kicked in and she let out an ear-piercing scream as she dove for the display stand. She’d left her gun in her purse and it was the only thing she might have been able to use as a weapon.

She was fast, but so was he. Surprise registered in his dark eyes, but the second she opened her mouth, he catapulted into action. She barely made it one step.

Strong, beefy arms clamped around her upper body as he tackled her to the ground. She struggled, thrashing around, trying to get a punch in, but his grip only increased, cutting off her air supply.

“Get off me,” she yelled.

Using what little strength she had to shout was a mistake. When the rest of the air sucked out of her lungs at the effort, he squeezed tighter, rolling her so that she was face down.

Fear and bile filled her mouth as her face scraped against the carpet. The smell of cleaning products and tobacco filled her nostrils. Something primal inside her screamed as she struggled.

She managed to free one of her hands. Using raw adrenaline, she clawed at the carpet and tried to find a hold or some way to wiggle free. She might have been trained in self-defense but this guy outweighed her by at least seventy pounds. He slammed his hand on hers, gripping her wrist with brutal force as he shoved himself tighter against her.

His body smothered hers, making it increasingly harder to breathe or think. When she felt his erection prodding at the small of her back, she bit back a cry. He was turned on by this! The realization made her want to vomit.

She opened her mouth to scream but he pressed harder onto her back, pushing all the strength from her. “Help.” The word was a whisper. Coughing and struggling she tried to shriek, but it was impossible. Where was Braden? Her mind screamed for him.

“We don’t have time now, but later I’m going to enjoy every inch of you,” her attacker whispered in her ear, the vile meaning echoing in her brain.

She dry heaved at his words, but before she had a chance to react, he shoved something over her face. He kept his hand there until she couldn’t fight him any longer. Sweetness filled her nostrils before blackness engulfed her.

Lilly fought through cobwebs, trying to clear her brain and open her eyes. A deep throbbing fractured through her skull. She raised a hand to massage her temple, but her knuckles hit something hard.

She blinked a couple times, but everything was pitch-black. Writhing around, she tried to sit up and move her hands, but her skull cracked against something solid. Pain splintered through her head.
Oh my God!
She didn’t know how she knew, but that maniac had locked her in a coffin. Her throat threatened to close up as panic set in. She clawed around until her hand clasped on silky material and she started pulling and ripping.

Lilly pounded at the lid with the heels of her hand. “Help! Braden! Somebody help me!” Screaming and pitching her body around, she tried to push on the top but it was useless.

Struggling to use her knees and feet, she continued kicking at the lid. The harder she kicked, the more her lungs seemed to shrink in her chest. As she gulped in musty air, she forced herself to calm down and think. If she didn’t stop thrashing, she might run out of air.
Think, don’t react.
She chanted the words over and over in her head.

When she heard her name being called as if through a tunnel, her heart leapt. “Help! I’m in here!”

The sound of Braden’s voice calling her name immediately calmed her nerves. Her entire body jostled as the coffin shook. Fear and panic threatened to overwhelm her again when light hit her eyes.

“Lilly! What happened? Are you okay?” Deep lines etched around Braden’s eyes as he lifted the top half of the coffin. She tried to sit up but with the bottom half still closed she could barely move. Braden looked over his shoulder. “A little help here!”

A moment later Reverend Ingram lifted the bottom hatch open. As soon as her feet touched solid ground, she crumpled into Braden’s arms. His heartbeat was as strong as his embrace and strength was exactly what she needed right now.

“What happened?” His voice was soft and soothing as he stroked her hair.

She shook her head, trying to find the right words. There was no way she’d imagined this. She sure as hell hadn’t locked herself in the coffin and the rug burn on her chin was real. “A man in a mask knocked me out and locked me in. I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious.”

Braden took a step back to assess her. He kept his hands protectively on her shoulders, as if he was afraid to let go of her. “Are you hurt?”

Instead of responding she glanced at the reverend, then back at Braden. Her legs shook so bad she could barely stand, but she needed to talk to Braden alone. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Still frowning, Braden nodded, then turned to the other man. “Excuse us.” He gently took her by the hand, then strode down to the office they’d been in earlier. She collapsed on one of the chairs.

He hunkered down so they were face to face and he tightly grasped one of her hands. “Talk to me, Lilly. Walk me through what happened.”

Anchored by his touch and the concern in his eyes, she found the words. “I heard someone calling my name. I thought it was you so I went searching. A masked man attacked me in that room. I fought as hard as I could but he pinned me to the floor and…he was excited. I could feel it. He told me that he was going to enjoy every inch of me later.” Despite her efforts to stay calm, her voice cracked on the last word and a few unwanted tears spilled down her cheeks. She flinched when Braden made an attempt to comfort her.

If someone was truly after her, then she couldn’t afford to let Braden get too close to her. After watching one of her best friends die in Africa and now her aunt, she couldn’t lose someone else she cared about. She and Braden might not be close anymore, but he meant a lot more to her than she dared to admit aloud. Not to mention she couldn’t take his brand of kindness right now. If she let him console her, the dam would break and she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from blubbering all over him.

His hand dropped as he straightened in his chair. “How did he get you in the coffin?”

“He put something over my face. Maybe it was ether because I remember whatever it was, smelled sweet. Do you think it’s the guy you’re looking for?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he studied her face. “It’s possible…no, it’s probable. You’re going to need to make a statement down at the station and I’m going to send some of the guys down to dust for prints.”

“He was wearing gloves.” She hated telling him the next part because now she felt so stupid, but she had no choice. “Braden, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen this guy.”

“What?”

She looked down at her clasped hands.
God, this was so embarrassing.
“For the past year I’ve been suffering from PTSD.” When he didn’t respond, she met his gaze. Thankfully she didn’t see pity or judgment. He just looked at her with those dark, soulful eyes and she knew he was listening. Really listening to her. “Last night, right before you showed up I saw a masked face in the kitchen window but I thought it was a waking nightmare. An effect of the PTSD. Then it happened again this morning while you were in the shower. The second time he had a knife.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” He didn’t seem to be judging her or shocked even. He didn’t seem to be
anything.
His expression was completely unreadable.

“I didn’t think it was
real.
I’ve been having vivid nightmares over the past year. My therapist told me things could get worse before I start healing and I…I just assumed this was a waking nightmare or some kind of manifestation. It’s not like the figure tried to attack me. He just grinned and stared at me. It was disturbing, but…” She pressed a hand to her stomach as reality assaulted her. This guy had been following her.

Watching her. And there was no way for her to find out how long it had been going on.

“I’ll get someone to your place to dust for prints too. What did the knife look like?”

This is where she worried he really would think she was crazy. “You know what…
happened
to me, right?” At his nod, she found her voice again. Saying the words aloud made her want to vomit, but she pushed herself. “I was forced to watch half my team being murdered. The curved knife he had looked
exactly
like the one they used to…” She let her voice trail off. Braden had seen the news. There were some things she simply couldn’t bring herself to say. Seeing her friends and teammates chopped up, beheaded and set on fire wasn’t something she was sure she’d ever get over no matter what her therapist said. Other than her boss and superiors at the NSA, her therapist was the only person who knew what that knife looked like. She’d described it in excruciating detail and somehow the exercise had been therapeutic. “Since I thought it wasn’t real, I didn’t think about it. I just assumed it was the manifestation of my memories. Now that I know it’s not my imagination, it’s too much of a coincidence, right?” She already knew the answer, but asked anyway.

“This is no coincidence. Do you have any idea who this could be? Any ex-boyfriends?”

She laughed at the thought. For the past year she’d been consumed with nothing but occupational therapy and regular therapy before returning to work. “No boyfriends, no enemies…well, that I know of. If this is the same person who’s been killing people in Hudson Bay, I’m not the only connection.”

“Damn it, I know,” he muttered.

As he paced next to her, she racked her brain for names, but the ones she came up with weren’t feasible. He had to have some enemies if he was the link between the victims. “If you had to think of one person who hates you, what’s the first name that pops into your mind? Don’t think, just answer.”

He stopped midpace and faced her. “I’ve put a few people in jail over the past year, Lilly. I’m sure quite a few people have a bone to pick with me.”

“No thinking. What name popped into your head first?”

“Greg Murphy.”

Just hearing the name made her cringe. “Ugh.”

“You remember him?”

She suppressed a shudder. Greg had been friends with Braden’s younger brother. Yeah, she remembered him. “Senior year he used to harass me after homeroom. He was always telling me I’d be better off with a ‘real man’ and he used to leave the weirdest letters in my locker telling me what a tease I was. He even asked me to prom despite the fact that I was dating you.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Braden asked through gritted teeth.

“Because I think that’s what he wanted. I don’t think he was ever actually interested in me. I think he wanted a reaction from you. More importantly, why is he the first name you thought of?”

“I’ve arrested him a few times for roughing up his wife, but she always drops the charges. Last time, things got heated and he took a swing at me. He also made some nasty threats. I was able to lock him up for a little while that time.”

“When was this?”

“Over a year ago. Since he’s gotten out, things have been quiet.”

“What about his wife?”

He shrugged, but she didn’t miss the pained expression in his eyes. “Saw her about six months ago at the grocery store sporting a shiner, but if she doesn’t call it in, I can’t do anything about it. What about you? I know you said you don’t have any enemies, but what’s the first name that you think of?”

“I honestly can’t think of anyone alive who’d hate me so much that they’d rape, kill and carve…” She trailed off since she didn’t need to finish.

Braden sighed and motioned for the door. “All right. We need to head to the station and report this.”

As soon as they stepped into the hall, they were greeted by Reverend Ingram and the owner of the funeral home, Albert Watson.

Deep lines etched around Albert’s pale eyes and he clasped his hands tightly in front of his stomach. He hadn’t been around when she’d been hoisted out of the coffin but no doubt the reverend had filled him in on what happened.

“Ms. Carmichael, I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do—”

“Uh,
Albert,
you can call me Lilly and I’m fine.” The man had known her since she was in diapers. She didn’t know why he was calling her Ms. Carmichael. Unless he was afraid she’d sue.

“Albert, Reverend, I’m going to need you both to stay out of this room.” Braden motioned to the left. “I’m going to send someone to check for evidence.”

They both nodded and Reverend Ingram stepped forward to take Lilly’s hand. “I’m so sorry about your aunt. I assume you wanted to talk to me about the wake?”

“Yes, I was hoping you could say a few words, but—”

“But keep it short and sweet, right?” A wry smile touched his lips.

Well, that wasn’t exactly how she would have put it, but she nodded. “I’d greatly appreciate it. My aunt thought a lot of you.”

“And I thought a great deal of her. Will you be in town long?” Reverend Ingram shot a not-so-subtle look in Braden’s direction before focusing on her.

“A couple weeks.”

“Maybe I’ll see you in church on Sunday?”

She inwardly smiled. Still the same man she remembered. “Maybe.”

“Good, maybe you can get the sheriff to come with you.”

Braden cleared his throat. “We’ve got to get down to the station.”

Once they were outside and alone she stole a glance at Braden. “You don’t go to church anymore?”

“I go when I can, but I work Sundays. Apparently being sheriff isn’t an excuse to miss anything.”

“Not in Reverend Ingram’s book.” She chuckled but stiffened when he held open the passenger door for her. It’s not that she didn’t appreciate it. The opposite in fact. For some reason when he held her doors open, long buried memories assaulted her. Even before they’d started dating, when they’d simply been friends, Braden had always opened doors for her. He’d always treated her with respect. It was one of the things that had originally attracted her to him.

Why did he have to be so damn nice? It made it harder to keep her distance from him. She could feel her defenses weaken and she wanted to tell him the real reason she’d left him. But that was just asking for trouble.

As she stepped into the truck, her right leg spasmed and she lurched off-balance and straight into Braden.

His strong arms encircled her waist before she could fall. “Are you okay?”

Her brain short-circuited for a second. She inhaled the familiar, spicy scent as she clutched his chest. “Fine,” she mumbled. Out of pure instinct, she started to slide her hands up to his shoulders. At the last second she caught herself. After all these years the action was so instinctual. That scared her.

“You sure?” The concern in his deep voice washed over her like a warm summer breeze.

“Leg cramped up, that’s all.” Her right leg had been broken, then re-broken so many times it was inevitable that she’d have problems. Despite months of working with the best occupational therapist in the United States, the cold sometimes restricted her movements. She wiggled her leg and a burst of internal relief bloomed inside her chest once she knew that she could move. “I’m fine now.”

Instead of releasing her, Braden helped her into the front seat. Even though he didn’t need to, he leaned over and strapped her seatbelt in. As he pulled away, he paused so that their faces were mere inches apart. She could see his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. The movement was slight, but combined with his uneven breathing, she knew what he was thinking. She knew, because she was thinking the same thing.

Just once, she’d like to taste him again. To feel those strong lips against hers. It would be a mistake, but it was hard to care when he was staring at her with undeniable need. Slightly parting her lips, she leaned forward a fraction. The desire to kiss him was pure instinct.

He quickly jerked away from her. She sighed as he shut the door and rounded to the driver’s side. It was for the best anyway. Getting tangled up with him again would leave her heart bare to be ripped up. Instinctively she knew he didn’t believe her about why she’d left and if she let him press her, she’d be more likely to do something stupid and tell him the truth. No, keeping her distance was the smart thing to do.

Leftover slivers of pain splintered down her leg, but the sensation was similar to the pins and needles she experienced when her foot fell asleep.