Forbidden Passion (3 page)

She nodded, although she didn’t know if she could actually shoot someone. But she glanced at Jordie’s body again and self-preservation kicked in. “Yes.”

“Good.”

He pushed the .45 into her shaky hands, then closed the door, removed his own weapon, and headed toward the cabin. He watched through the spiny trees from the top of the ridge, laughter bubbling from his throat.
          

The games had begun.

Marlena Bender had found the gift he’d left for her. And she’d done exactly as he’d expected.

Called Dante.

Zion’s son would be a challenge, but the price would be worth it when he fell into Zion’s hands.

Please Zion was his ticket to eternal life. And he would live forever.
                

 
Dante entered the house with his gun drawn, visually sweeping the entryway and pausing to listen for an intruder.

But an eerie silence enveloped the place, along with the odor of bleach~

The killer had cleaned up after the crime. What exactly had he done to Jordie before he’d set her on fire?

Oddly, the inside of the front room looked undisturbed Simple, worn furniture, magazines stacked neatly, a Diet Coke can on the counter along with an empty coffee .cup and cereal bowl.

No sign of alcohol or indication Jordie had been entertaining.

He veered to the left to the bedroom and eased inside. An antique bed held an old-fashioned quilt, the dresser a small jewelry box and tray of perfumes, but the room was neat, no sign of a struggle or an intruder. Nothing to raise suspicion.

Except that the scent of bleach and cleaning chemicals grew stronger as he neared the bathroom, and he glanced at the tub. Without touching the tiled wall, he leaned for ward to examine the drain. Blood rimmed the metal.

Blood had been on Jordie’s ring. What exactly was the cause of death? He’d have to ask the medical examiner to be thorough.

He mentally ticked away more questions as he strode back outside. A quick glance at his SUV, and he breathed a sigh of relief that Marlena was still safely inside.

Frowning, he walked back to the body and studied the crime scene again, searching for a clue to whether the killer was human or demonic before he called CSI.

His gaze skimmed over Jordie’s ‘body from head to toe, then he narrowed his eyes to study the plot of land surrounding the ‘tree where ashes had fallen. Several pieces of charred bark lay on the ground.

The pieces lay in a pattern.

Anger roiled inside him—the bark had been arranged in the shape of a Satanic S.

Sweat beaded on his brow. The crime scene looked ritualistic, possibly a serial killer. One who was into devil worshipping.

Or maybe Satan himself was behind this murder.

Marlena’s hands felt slick with perspiration as she eased the gun onto her lap. Thank God Dante had finally come out of that cabin.

She’d been terrified that the killer bad been inside, waiting to ambush him.

And then the maniac who’d murdered Jordie might have come after her…

She inhaled sharply, struggling to calm her nerves as she watched him examine the crime scene. Something about the ground around Jordie’s body was bothering him.

A coyote howled in the distance, and storm clouds rumbled above, a streak of lightning flashing across the top of the mountain ridges.

Dante suddenly straightened and turned to study the forest again as if he suspected the killer was watching them. Then he unhooked his phone from his belt buckle and punched in a number.

She stared at Jordie’s body, her chest aching. She’d felt helpless when her mother and sister had died.

Now she felt helpless again.

All her training and medical knowledge couldn’t bring Jordie back or alleviate the suffering she’d endured.

But she would like to know who’d killed her, take a sample of the maniac’s blood and study it.

Dante snapped his phone closed, then strode over to the SUV.

She depressed the window button and the glass slid down. “Did you find anything in her house?”

“The bathroom has been scrubbed with bleach. It might be part of the original murder scene.”

Marlena forced herself to drag her gaze away from Jordie’s charred body. “What were you looking at on the ground?”

“Pieces of bark were arranged in a pattern creating a Satanic S symbol.”

Marlena frowned. “What does that mean?”

“That this is a ritualistic killing. That the killer may be a Satan worshipper.” Dante paused, his steely eyes bleak. “That he’s a serial killer and he’s just getting started.”

Marlena had studied profiles of famous serial killers. She’d also interviewed a couple in prison to study their behavior patterns and histories, ones who’d allowed her to use their blood for her research.

But none of their cases had hit this close to home.

“I can’t believe this is happening, that Jordie is dead and the killer left me her ring.”

Dante cleared his throat, then reached out and rubbed her arms. She hadn’t realized she was shivering again, but his hands on her instantly warmed her.

“The fact that he did means he knows you.”

Shock hither, but she immediately realized he was right.

“I know this is tough, Marlena, but you’re a psychiatrist. You work with the criminally insane. Do you have a patient who could have committed this kind of violence?”

Denial was her automatic response. “Dante, I’m bound by patient-doctor confidentiality. I can’t reveal anything about my patients without their permission.”

His mouth thinned in anger. “After what happened to your family, I can’t believe you’d choose to protect some psycho rather than helping to find this killer?’

Anger knotted her insides, and she pushed his hands away. “You don’t have to remind me of the worst day of my life.”

Dante glared at her. “Then tell me if you know someone who could have done this, Marlena, because he obviously intends to include you in his twisted game. And you know what that means.”

“That he wants my help,” Marlena said, failing back on her psychiatric training, “or that he wants to be caught?’

“Maybe,” Dante said in a hiss. “Or that he intends to target you as one of his victims.”

Dante steeled himself against the fear in Marlena’s eyes. Fear he’d put there with the truth.

But she couldn’t walk around with blinders on, not here in Mysteria.

Dammit, maybe he should tell her everything. That demons. roamed the world~ That they might still be after her.

That they’d hurt her to punish him for defying them if he got too close to her.

“I’ll study my patient list,” Marlena said in a shaky voice. “If I discover any information or evidence regarding one of my patients that’s relevant to Jordie’s murder, I’ll let you know.”

Sirens wailed in the distance, cutting off any more conversation. Within seconds, the CSI team and Deputy Hobbs arrived, all of them jumping out and reacting to the sight of Jordie’s burned body with disgust and shock.

He hated to call in the crime lab, wanted to track down this bastard and deal with him in his own way.

But he was the sheriff. He had to follow protocol to a point. This case was too brutal and violent not to have a crime unit search for forensics. If he didn’t, his deputy and the locals would ask questions.

‘Questions he didn’t want to have raised, much less to be forced to answer.

Like the fact that he sensed a demon had been here. He could smell the stench. But what kind of demon?

Hobbs glanced at Marlena. “What are you doing here, Dr. Bender?”

Marlena explained about finding Jordie’s ring on her doorstep..

Hobbs shifted and dug the steel toe of his boot into the dirt. “Sounds like we’ve got a real sicko on our hands.”

“Yeah, so let’s get to work,” Dante snapped.

Hobbs glared at him, but went to his squad car, retrieved crime scene tape, and began to stretch it in a wide radius around the tree and house. Dante grabbed his camera from the SUV. He wanted photos of the crime scene himself so he could study them.

A white van suddenly screeched up the graveled drive and stopped, and Dante cursed. Jebb Bates, the local reporter in Mysteria. Dante had been dodging his nosy questions ‘for’ months.

“Dammit, keep him out of the crime scene, Hobbs. I don’t want him contaminating evidence or interfering.”

The deputy nodded and met Bates at the van. Bates tried to push past him, and Dante strode over to him, arms crossed. “This is an official crime scene,” Dante growled.

Bates lurched forward to get a better look at the body, but Dante shoved him back. “If you cross it, I’ll arrest you for interfering with an investigation.”

“Listen, Sheriff,” Bates said in a slimy voice. “The public has a right to know if a killer is on the loose. What happened to Jordie?”

Dante glared at him. “I can’t release details until the family has been notified. How did you find out about this so quickly?”

“I have a scanner, it picks up police and 911 calls.”

Dante silently cursed. The little fucker had better not get in the way.

If Dante decided to take things into his own hands, or if a demon showed up, he didn’t want anyone around exposing the truth. “No pictures, Bates. No one in town needs to see the gruesome details, especially the victim’s family.” Besides, he would keep certain details private—he might be able to use them later to catch the killer.

“I’ll hold off printing anything for now,” Bates said with a nervous twitch of his right eye. “But 1 want the scoop when you get answers.”

Dante nodded in agreement to appease him, although he had no intention of telling Bates anything. The son of a bitch had tried to dig up dirt on him when he’d first been elected. He’d even caught Bates snooping around his house.

Bates backed off but refused to’ leave the scene, and Dante began to snap photos of the crime scene, the way the body had been positioned, the burns, ‘the Satanic S on the ground.

The CSI team divided up; two investigators inside the house, one on the exterior, and another at the site of the body. The medical examiner arrived and began to perform his initial exam. Dante went into the house and noticed the CSIs dusting for prints and searching for blood and other forensics. Hoping to find a lead on who Jordie might have met with or some of her friends, he checked her phone log.’

Two calls from her mother the day before, but any record of other calls had been deleted. He’d have to request the records from the phone company. Next, he searched for a computer but didn’t find one, then examined Jordie’s purse. No cell phone or address book inside.

No car in the drive either. So where was her vehicle?

Questions ticked in his head, but he hoped CSI would find some evidence to lead him to the killer.

Knowing he had to inform Jordie’s mother of her death, he returned to the deputy.

“I’m going to see Mrs. McEnroe,” Dante said. “Stay here and guard the crime scene.”

“Yes, sir’ Hobbs said in a clipped tone.

Ignoring his surly attitude, Dante walked back to his SUV. Marlena looked pale and was huddled inside her jacket, so he climbed in and cranked up the heater.

“I’ll drop you off, then I have to talk to Mrs. McEnroe.”

Marlena touched his arm. “I’ll go with you, Dante. I couldn’t do anything for Jordie tonight, but maybe I can help her mother.”

Dante didn’t want her help. Didn’t want her to be involved.

But he was out of his element in dealing with a grief-stricken mother, so he agreed.

But his hand tingled from her touch, so he pulled away from it and steered the vehicle onto the highway. The burn scars on his arms and hands mocked him.

Each time he used his power, a mark had been left. A scar to remind him of what he was.

A demon.

He had to protect his secrets.

 
Marlena felt the tension between her and Dante like a visible knife cutting into her skin.

Storm clouds thickened as they drove to the diner in town, thunder rumbling as they climbed out and walked up the pebbled sidewalk to the door. A neon sign flickered against the gray sky, blinking in the darkness and playing off Dante’s chiseled face.

He opened the door and gestured for her to enter first, and she wondered if the anger in his eyes was for her or because of the murder scene they’d just witnessed.

The diner was virtually cleared out, with only a patron finishing dessert at a table in the back.

But the minute they entered, the room grew silent and Marlena felt the patron’s eyes staring at Dante, an uneasy silence settling in the room.

Jordie’s mother was wiping tables., the sound of dishes clanging echoing from the kitchen.

Dante cleared his throat. “Mrs. McEnroe.”

The older woman glanced up from the table, her short brown hair curling around her chubby cheeks. She dropped the dishcloth on the table, then wiped her hands on her checked apron. “You want something to eat, Sheriff? We might have some of the special left. It’s my chicken ‘n dumplings.”

“No, thanks,” Dante said solemnly. “We need to talk.”

Something about his tone must have alerted her to the seriousness of his visit, because her hands began to shake, and she sank into a wooden chair, her face paling. “It’s about Jordie, ain’t it?” A low cry escaped her. “Oh, God, no. When she didn’t show up tonight, I was afraid something bad had happened.” She clawed at her chest, and Marlena rushed to the table and began to stroke her back.

“Take a deep breath, Ms. McEnroe,” Marlena said gently. “Let’s go in the back.”

“Tell me,” she screeched. “Is my Jordie all right?”

Marlena helped her to stand. “Please, let’s go to your office.”

The woman nodded numbly, and Dante took one arm and Marlena the other and escorted her through a set of double doors through the kitchen, then into a small office crammed with books and a desk overflowing with papers.

Dante waited until Mrs. McEnroe was seated, then cleared his throat again. “Mrs. McEnroe, I’m sorry to have to inform you, but your daughter is dead.”

“No.
.
.no.
.
.no.
.
“ She lurched up and jerked at his shirt, her plump body shaking as she began to cry. “No, it can’t be so. Not my baby girl.
.

Dante urged her to sit back down, and she sank into the chair like a rock. “I’m sorry~’ he said in a gruff tone.

She turned tear-stained eyes toward Dante. “Wh.
. .
at happened?”

“I’m afraid she was murdered,” he said in a low voice. “And I need your help to find her killer.”

“Murdered?” Age lines created deep grooves around her mouth as she shook her head from side to side in denial. “How? Why? Who would want to kill my baby? Everyone loved Jordie.”

Marlena stroked her back in an effort to soothe her.

Dante clenched his jaw. “That’s what I’m going to find out, Mrs. McEnroe. I want to make sure this killer never hurts anyone else.” Dante shifted and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Was Jordie seeing anyone in town? Dating anyone that you know of?”

She wiped at her tears with a shaky hand. “I don’t know. Not that she told me.”

“Did she own a car?”

She nodded. “Jordie drove an old pickup that belonged to her daddy, God rest his soul.”

“I need to look at it, as well as her computer.”

“The truck’s in the shop right now, put it in two days ago.
. .“
Her voice broke. “Jordie didn’t have a computer.”

Mrs. McEnroe pressed her hand against her chest again, and Marlena knelt beside her. “I’m so sorry. Is there anyone I can call? Family? A friend? Your doctor?”

“Dr. Joyner,” she whispered. “Tell him to come.” Her voice caught. “And Edith, next door. I need her.”

Dante reached for his phone, while the woman slumped against Marlena, buried her head in her arms, and began to sob.

Dante braced himself against reacting to the woman’s grief, but gave her time to vent her emotions. Finally, about half an hour later, the worst of her sobs had subsided.

“I have to go see Jordie,” the woman whispered.

 
Marlena gave a brisk shake of her head, indicating she didn’t think that was a good idea.

Dante had to agree. No one should see a loved one in the condition in which Jordie had been left.

“Mrs. McEnroe, you can’t, not just yet,” Dante said evenly. “She’ll be transported to the morgue for an autopsy, and when she’s released to the funeral home, we’ll let you know.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Marlena rushed to let the doctor in. Dr. Joyner, a white-haired robust man in his sixties, introduced himself and rushed to Mrs. McEnroe. She was huddled in shock, her body trembling. He took her vitals and immediately gave her a sedative. Within minutes, the neighbor arrived, and she began to comfort the distraught woman.

“Come on, sweetie,” Edith said softly. “Let’s get upstairs so you can lie down.”

Mrs. McEnroe clung to her friend’s hand and allowed her to assist her up the stairs.

The doctor turned to Dante, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. “This is awful, Sheriff., Who killed Jordie?”

“I don’t know yet’ Dante said. “I’m just beginning to investigate. We only found her body a couple of hours ago.”

A weary expression made the age lines around his mouth deepen. “Her mother’s heart isn’t good. I hope she survives this shock.”

“Did you know Jordie?” Dante asked.

Dr. Joyner shrugged. “Of course. I delivered the child.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “She was a good girl, Sheriff. A good one. And her mama worshipped her. Find out who did this and make them pay.”

Dante gave a clipped nod, then glanced at Marlena. She looked exhausted, the strain of the evening and the emotional upheaval wearing on her.

Dante laid a business card on the end table. “Tell her to call me if she thinks of anyone Jordie might have been involved with. I need to question all her friends, especially any men she dated.”

Dr. Joyner mumbled agreement. “Let me know anything I can do to help.”

Dante nodded, then he and Marlena walked to the door, stepped into the blustery cold night and headed to his SUV.

Thunder rumbled, and the first raindrop fell as he pulled onto the street. He hoped to hell the CSI team finished searching for forensics before the storm unloaded to contaminate the crime scene.

“Are you going home now?” Marlena asked.

 
Dante veered onto the curvy mountain road leading toward Marlena’s. “No. I’m going to drive back out to Jordie’s to make sure forensics covers everything before the bad weather sets in.”

Marlena sighed wearily and ran a hand through her hair, drawing his gaze to the silky blond strands.

Strands that he wanted to touch. That he’d probably dream about tonight.

Dammit.
       

A bead of sweat trickled down his neck. “I need to talk to the medical examiner, too.”

Thoughts of the ME and what his job entailed jerked him back to reality. The rumbling storm clouds and roaring wind reminded him that time was of the essence.

That the ME might not detect evidence Of a demon attack. That he was on his own in that regard.

He had to be alert in case a new demon was in town. In case Father Gio and his minions had orchestrated this kill and intended to attack him and wreak havoc on the locals now he was back.

Marlena had lapsed into silence, and he pulled up the long winding road to her house. Fatigue and fear lined her face as he parked. The killer had been on her porch, had left her Jordie’s bloody ring.

Would he come back tonight for Marlena?

The pain of Mrs. McEnroe’s cries echoed in Marlena’s head.

She understood grief, of having someone ripped from your arms too soon. Suddenly the fear and grief of her own family’s loss welled inside her, and her throat thickened.

God help her. She’d moved back here to confront her past and get over her nightmares.

But a murderer had left his trophy for her, a reminder of how cruel life—and people—could be.

Her hand shook as she opened the car door, and Dante strode around to her side to help her. She wanted to lean on him, but she’d spent the last twenty years learning how to stand on her own, and she couldn’t succumb to that need now.

She didn’t want to get close to anyone ever again.

Instead she had to pour herself into ‘her research work, find a way to help deter violent behavior so she could save others.

Maybe if she helped find Jordie’s killer, it would atone for the fact that her family’s murderers had never been caught.

Raindrops splattered her cheeks as she stepped from the SUV and walked toward the house, but Dante placed a hand on her arm. “I’m going to check inside first.”

Her heart stuttered. “You think the killer might have come back?”

His dark eyes met hers, a sharp warning glittering. “He knows where you live, Marlena. He probably knows you personally.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “And for some reason, he’s involved you in this crime, so you can’t be too careful.”

Fear slithered through her, and she gave a quick nod of understanding, then followed him up the porch. “Stay behind me’ he ordered.

He withdrew his gun and held it at the ready as they entered. She flipped on a light in the foyer and crept behind him from room to room. Her heart hammered in her chest each time he paused to listen for an intruder.

The scent of the lavender candles she’d burned in her bath wafted through the house, and oddly she thought she detected the faint scent of the jasmine lotion her mother used to wear.

Lights flickered on and off upstairs and Dante gripped her arm. “Has it done that before?”

“Yes. I thought there might be a short circuit.” Or that the house might be haunted, but she bit back the words. People had thought she was crazy when she’d talked about monsters as a little girl. She didn’t want to admit that she thought her mother and sister’s spirits still lingered in the house. That sometimes she felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder just before she fell asleep.

That she heard her little sister’s cries at night.

Dante inched up the steps, shadows flickering against the faded walls. The wooden floors creaked, the furnace groaned, and wind whistled through the eaves of the plastered walls.

When they reached the landing, she gestured to the right to her bedroom, the room originally intended as the guest suite. She hadn’t been able to sleep in her old room, and certainly not in her mother’s or sister’s.

They checked each one, then he pointed to the door at the end of the hail.

“That’s the attic,” she said.

“It’s locked?”

She nodded, then reached into her purse for her key and handed it to him. He unlocked the door, and slowly they crept up the stairs, the floor creaking, a whisper of cold air wafting through the stairwell.

At the top of the landing, her gaze searched the room. Barring the trunks of old clothes and household items stored inside, it was empty.

“It’s clear,” he said, then she sighed in relief and led the way down the stairs.

He stopped in the foyer. “Do you have a security system?”

“No. The house was built years ago.”

“You should consider getting one,” Dante suggested.

Exhaustion pulled at Marlena, and she ran her hand through her hair. “I’ll think about it.”

His dark gaze raked over her, and for a brief second, an odd look flickered in his eyes. It was almost as if he wanted to touch her, to say something more.

The air felt charged, electric. His masculine scent wafted toward her, arousing her desire. It had been a long time since she’d been held by a man or allowed anyone into her life.

Except for an occasional one night of sex…

Sex with Dante would be phenomenal. Intense. Passionate. Hot.

Her hand shook with the effort it took for her not to reach for him.

But a cold mask suddenly slid over his face, and he backed toward the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

She needed him now. She didn’t want to be alone. Not in the house with the painful memories, with the whisper of her mother’s band on her back, the torment of her sister’s cries.

But the history they shared, that one night when he’d saved her, the questions regarding that attack stood between them.

And so did his warning. Asking about her family was dangerous.

But her resolve set in.

She didn’t care. She had to know the truth, even if it killed her.