Fragmented Page 17

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Darren joked. His manner had eased, as if a weight had been lifted. Brophy read Darren…his worry was now in his guest bedroom, safe.

  Brophy shook his head. “Unless you really want me to stay, I’m heading down to the station. Something is bothering me about the computer end of this whole thing. I want to see the board while I’m up.”

  “You can’t go,” Darren said. “Cameron’s in the next room.”

  Brophy shook his head. “Look, bro. This has been personal with both of you since the beginning. You’re right about her being safer here. My job is trying to figure out who is after her, and the computer bothers me. How easily he discovered where she was. And, besides, I have faith that you’ll keep her safe and sound.”

  “Do you really have something to go on?”

  “I have to find it, Darren. He’s getting too close. Honestly, the leads, the clues are so erratic. If I didn’t know better I would say we are dealing with multiple people, multiple crimes, not connected, except they are.” Brophy shook his head. He abruptly stood. “We could debate the rest of the night. She’s safe for right now. I’m leaving. We can sort out the rest later today. I’ll see myself out.”

  * * * *

  Darren walked behind Brophy. He checked the door twice to make sure it was secure. He set his alarm and dead bolted the door. He breathed deep. When the phone rang from Dunn, his heart stopped. He hadn’t realized how on edge he had been about the whole situation.

  He walked down the hall. He stared at her door, wondering whether she had found sleep. She looked tired…worried. He slowly turned the handle to check. One look, and then he would head for the couch. He wasn’t sleepy. He would watch sports highlights on Sports Center.

  His first glance found the bed empty. But a quick glimpse found her staring out the window. She didn’t seem to have heard him, she was so deep in thought. The moon had broken through the once cloudy sky, shining through the window.

  Her figure silhouetted in the light from the window. Her long hair fell down past her shoulders. Her flannel pajama pants and long-sleeved pajama top did nothing to hide her body from the moonlight outlining her curves. She turned and her eyes caught him staring at her. He stepped closer.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just checking on you. Brophy left, but the condo’s secure. Can’t sleep?”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t know if I can.”

  “You’re safe, Cameron. He can’t get you here.” He moved to her side and stared into her eyes. She didn’t back away from him. Drawing her into his arms, he could feel her tremble. He pulled her closer.

  Feeling her body respond to him, he leaned down. He hovered over her lips for a moment before he lightly touched hers. Once. Twice. Then his lips claimed hers. Every feeling he had suppressed rushed back with a burning force, wanting only to devour her. He kissed her, tasted her, and drew her into a passionate embrace.

  Breaking from him, she pushed back against his chest. “I can’t,” she said in a broken voice. “Don’t do this to me, Darren. I can’t take it.”

  Refusing to let go of her, he wondered for a moment whether she pushed back from his intensity, the complexity of the situation surrounding them, or both.

  “Cameron, I know I hurt you. It was never my intention. Never.” He caressed her face. “I have never been this way…ever. I have always maintained control, but not with you.”

  “Darren, you wanted to put me in jail,” she protested. She jerked back out of his arms. “Do you think I can forget?”

  “You hid evidence,” he countered.

  “To protect my brother from being railroaded.” Her voice rose.

  “God, woman. You make me so…”

  She stood defiant. Her eyes flared, challenging and so…damn seductive. He moved toward her. She backed up against the wall. His arm pinned her so she had to look directly at him.

  “Would it make you feel better to know you have tortured me? I should never have taken the case the moment I saw you. But I couldn’t let go because…” He kissed her lightly. “Because for some unknown reason, I can’t get you out of my head.”

  “Why?”

  For a moment he said nothing, but stared at her. He had no idea why he felt this need for her. He knew he had tried to ignore it, to no avail. He didn’t know whether it would last. Hell, what did last? He wanted—no, needed—that feeling she gave him, if only briefly.

  In the moonlight, she looked soft and vulnerable. “Cameron, believe me, this definitely wasn’t in my plans. I don’t know what you want me to say. That I want you so much it hurts inside? That when we’re together like this, you’re all that matters? I can’t guarantee anything, Cameron, only right now there is nowhere else I want to be except with you.”

  He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

  “Darren,” she breathed out, gripping tightly to his shirt. “I don’t want to be hurt anymore.” She hesitated. “And you can hurt me.”

  “Give us a chance, Cameron. It’s all I ask.” He kissed her again. “A chance.”

  The next instant, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to her. Leaning up to his lips, she whispered, “You don’t fight fair.”

  “Never,” he answered, pressing her against the wall. He knew he didn’t play fair. He had no intention of losing what he wanted…needed.

  In a blur of primitive need, he began to unbutton her top. Slipping it down over her soft skin, he cupped her exposed breast in one hand. The other he used to push down her pants. He felt her hands pulling at his shirt. He helped her dispose of his own clothing so nothing separated him from his desire…

  Being physically close to her brought on a sensual warmth. The sensation of her body pressed against his made him forget everything else. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly.

  He moved his hand and slid it over her breast, squeezing and teasing her until she moaned in pleasure. He felt her fingers trace the width of his shoulders. She gripped him to her with a growing urgency.

  Some voice within him told him to be slow and easy. He was neither. He found his mouth on her breast. He moved his hand down between her legs with such intensity he didn’t know himself. He lifted her so her legs encircled his hips. Desperation drove him. She urged him on, matching his passion with her own.

  She whispered to him. Yes. More. Don’t stop. Love me… She quaked in his arms when he thrust again and again. The world around them spiraled out of control with their consuming fervor. He felt her grasp him like a mad woman, crying out his name.

  Within the climax, somewhere lost in time, he returned her cries with his own utterances. I do, Cameron. I do love you… He remembered nothing else with his final thrust. For several minutes after, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

  Still supporting her with his arms, he untangled his limbs from her. With a reluctant groan, he let her feet sustain her once more. He heard her let out a sigh and she buried herself into his shoulder.

  He tightened his hold around her. She felt soft everywhere—her skin, her hair, her body. His heart stirred with something foreign to him, something he hadn’t felt in such a long time he had forgotten the feeling. His words came back to him as his senses began to function once more.

  Vague words were recalled. Had he told her he loved her, losing himself in the moment? Yet…the realization dawned upon him. He had not lost himself in the moment, but in her. As highly unlikely as it seemed to him, he had…he had fallen for her. And with that admission came the understanding there would be no going back for him.

  * * * *

  The morning brought with it the sunlight, breaking days of gray skies. Curtains pulled back, awakened Cameron with a start. She jumped, taking in her surroundings, momentarily forgetting where she was. She lay naked. She hadn’t dreamed the night.

  Glancing quickly around the room, she found Darren standing by the window. Dressed in navy blue sweatpants and a Red Sox T-shirt, her qualms eased when he greeted her with a smile.


  “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  She pulled the covers around her. Squinting from the sunlight, she asked, “What time is it?”

  “Ten. You don’t have to get up. Figured you needed to catch up. Did you get some sleep?” He smiled, a knowing smile.

  She returned his smile. She couldn’t remember seeing him so relaxed, at ease. He sat on the edge of the bed. Her breathing deepened with his close proximity, intimately so. He leaned down and kissed her. She slipped her arms around his neck.

  “How would you like to hang out for the next couple of days? Do nothing, thinking nothing, except about each other.”

  She didn’t take him seriously until she looked into his eyes. “Really? I don’t understand.”

  “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can call Dunn back. The FBI can hide you out.”

  “Don’t you have to work?”

  “It’s Saturday.” He grinned at her. “Any ideas on what we could do to pass the time?”

  A laugh escaped her. That wasn’t what she expected to come out of his mouth…the ever serious assistant district attorney.

  “Obviously, you have some ideas.”

  “Believe me, I have plenty, Cameron.” His manner turned serious. “But, honestly, if you want to go somewhere else, if you don’t want to be here, I can make arrangements. Although, to let you know, I won’t be in charge of the case anymore for the city. I told them the case had become too personal. It would be best if I stepped back. I bought us a couple of days. At the moment, it’s the best I can do.”

  She didn’t answer immediately. She sat up and pulled the covers with her. “This is happening so fast. This…you and me…”

  He traced the outline of her jaw, down her neck. “Perhaps. Maybe it’s just the way it’s supposed to be. I’m done fighting it. If you don’t…”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “Darren, it’s only I’m scared. I tried to tell you last night, but the only thing I wanted was you...is you.”

  “Then there isn’t a problem. You have me,” he said genuinely. “So our timing may not be the best, but is there a perfect time?”

  He kissed her. “Are you okay? Trust me?”

  She nodded. She felt completely vulnerable, exposing her feelings. Yet she did trust him. She wanted this and whatever happened after…well, she would deal with it then. Now she would take what he offered.

  “Just one question that has crossed my mind.” She pulled back from him. “Last night, I was lost in the moment and didn’t care. I only wanted you, but…Darren, you didn’t use protection.”

  Darren tilted his head to the side with a slight smirk. “Yeah, that. It was reckless…but I know I’m safe and you…I know you give blood every two months. I saw the pills in your purse…I assumed…”

  A sudden irritation flared again. He was so confident he knew everything about her. She pushed back from him. “You assumed? You assumed?”

  “I’m not wrong. Am I?”

  She saw a determination in him to alleviate her sudden bad humor. He pressed her back against the pillow and smiled down at her. “Am I, Cameron?”

  “No, you’re not,” she finally acknowledged. “But you know you’re not. What if I wasn’t on the pill?”

  “Then,” he reached around and scooped her in his arms, swinging her over him, “then we would deal with it.”

  “We would?” She laughed when he leaned over, kissing the sensitive part of her neck.

  “We would,” he said, breaking from her long enough to utter the words.

  Cameron fell under his spell. She had no way of knowing what the future held. All she knew was she had a need for this man, an all-consuming need…love was a dangerous emotion with the ability to silence the echoes of the past.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brophy sat behind his desk, studying his computer screen. He couldn’t dismiss this bad feeling gnawing at him. He glanced over at the picture of his kids. He had seen the girls earlier in the evening. He had taken them out for supper and to the movies. Jake hadn’t come, but at his age, Brophy hadn’t expected Jake to curtail his activities to see his dad. He would catch up with his son at his hockey games. At least he had been able to catch most of his games…not all.

  Lauren had been good about him seeing the girls on short notice. He had enjoyed going out with his girls, not that he even paid any attention to the movie. His mind was elsewhere. The case bothered him. There was a restless feeling in the air.

  It was why he was back at his desk after dropping the girls off at the house. The case wasn’t theirs anymore. In essence, it was the FBI’s. He served only to help in their investigation.

  He looked over and over every bit of information gathered for that missing piece to the puzzle. His instinct drove him. Before him, he stared at his computer screen. He saw more than his reports of Luciano’s suicide, the pictures sent to Dr. Halliday, the computer link to Zachary Quinn, the SUV, Cameron’s attempted abduction…he saw haunting figures. The dead victims.

  He never forgot the victims were real people, not a body on a slab. Never a number. Each had their own story cut short. He had dealt with enough murders to understand the devastating loss the family would feel for the years to come. The world would never be the same. He owed it to the victim’s family. The only thing he could give was closure and he would be damned if he didn’t.

  Brophy didn’t need a profiler to tell him about this murderer. Somewhere in this monster’s background, Brophy realized he had been abused himself in some manner. Not everyone abused abuses, but it was not unusual for the prey to become the hunter. For some, there was a line they crossed where there was no going back. This killer wouldn’t stop until someone stopped him.

  This serial killer was different. His MO…modus operandi…for his murders differed slightly. His method was the same—stabbing through the heart with the knife. The last one, though, the killer had tried to lead suspicion to another, which told of his cunning and his ability to manipulate. Even given the erratic behavior, he had them going in circles. Moreover, the killer was also a stalker.

  Brophy hated dealing with stalkers. Frustratingly, the system worked against the victims. The problem was, even given signals of the perp’s disturbing behavior, it usually took a violent act for the problem to be addressed. At times, deadly acts. He had seen it.

  Suddenly, Brophy sat up. It hit him—the missing piece of the puzzle. He had been looking at it all wrong. He had put the murders front and center. But it was never about the murders. The murders were the perp’s frustration because he couldn’t have Cameron!

  His main objective had always been Cameron. Dr. Levy had suggested that but it didn’t sink into Brophy until this moment. He needed to think of Cameron as a victim of a stalker. He had to think of what he knew of stalkers: obsessive personality, delusional thinking, sociopath, usually above average intelligence…this one at times seemed to be a fucking genius…

  Who…who…? Someone on the fringe of Cameron’s life… What was the catalyst that began the killer’s murdering spree…and why? If Cameron was the key…who…

  His phone rang. At first, Brophy ignored it. His eyes fixed on the board and the pictures of the suspects. His phone rang again and again. The caller ID flashed. He took it.

  * * * *

  Fucking idiot! One would think a doctor would be intelligent, especially a surgeon…but Brophy supposed it had little to do with common sense. If his caller had been correct, the good doctor had been led blindly into a trap! Brophy could only imagine how this killer taunted the good doctor to get him to respond the way he wanted. Damn!

  The tires of his car screeched to a halt in front of Beth Israel. Freaking different campuses to this damn hospital…

  Blue lights flashed from the two squad cars that had been dispatched to the scene, more coming in behind him. Brophy exited his car, gun drawn. Schuster, a uniformed officer, waiting for him at the door, nodded toward the right.

  “Security has already begun a
search. They checked the cameras. They think they saw Dr. Halliday down at the morgue.”

  Brophy nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Brophy hurriedly followed. There was no time to lose. He almost dropped his phone when the call came in from Dr. Matthew Halliday’s cell phone. But it wasn’t Halliday…it was him.

  For a time, he didn’t speak. He only breathed over the phone, but Brophy knew. He raced to Carpenter, the night detective, who walked into the room and signaled him for a trace. He needed only to locate the phone…

  “For every time, there is a season. You are afraid of me, but it’s not me you need to fear. Dr. Halliday had reason to fear. A trusting soul, it seemed. Didn’t even question my request. Thought he would be a hero and came running…he won’t run anymore…”

  “What have you done?” Brophy questioned.

  “I am only protecting my own. For every sin, there is a punishment. I deliver that punishment. Dr. Halliday has paid for his crime…yours is keeping her from my family…yours, Detective Brophy…”

  The phone went dead but not before he got a location. Beth Israel!

  Eight minutes. It took eight minutes to get to the hospital, but immediately the campus police had been alerted. The cruisers were on site in less than five. Maybe…maybe they had him!

  The elevators had been shut down. The group took to the stairs. This part of the hospital was old and eerily quiet, Brophy noted, easing out of the stairwell. The corridors were long and endless.

  Not another soul seemed to be around, only the other officers exiting from another stairwell. But Brophy sensed an evil presence. He had been here.

  Easing down the hallway, Brophy detected no movement. Through the corner mirrors, he looked around the corner. Only a gurney sat alone in the hallway, one of those gurneys used to move the dead bodies to the morgue. Covered by a white sheet, the body would lie in the inset…only, underneath this one was a puddle of liquid, red watery fluid…