McIver's Mission Page 20

  He didn't understand what had happened, although he'd come to know Arden well enough to know that she wasn't being completely honest with him. He'd called Logan as soon as Arden left. He knew Arden wouldn't appreciate it if she knew he'd sent his investigator to tail her, but until the police caught the guy who was threatening her, he didn't want her to be alone.

  Logan had checked in a couple of hours earlier from the parking lot of the Coach House Hotel. He was camped out in his car and promised that Arden wouldn't move from her room without him being aware of it. Shaun forced himself to be satisfied with that, although what he really wanted was to go down to the hotel himself and haul Arden back home.

  He rolled onto his stomach, punched his pillow into shape. Damn, the sheets even smelled like her. The subtle enticing scent that was as much a part of her as those big brown eyes. He threw his pillow against the wall.

  His mood wasn't any better when he got up in the morning. Nor the morning after that. But at least it was Monday then, and he had an excuse to get out of the house that seemed so empty without Arden.

  He went through the motions of his day, the situation with Arden in the forefront of his mind. Even his secretary noticed his preoccupation, and he practically bit her head off for daring to comment on it.

  By the time he left the office that night, his mood was even worse. He still hadn't decided how he was going to deal with the situation, but he did know that he wasn't going to accept that their relationship was over. Somehow, he would figure out what was going on, what had her so panicked, and they'd deal with it. Together. He wasn't prepared to consider any other option.

  Shaun pulled into his driveway, not at all surprised to find that Arden's car wasn't there. No doubt she'd already been here to pick up some of her things. He was surprised, however, when another vehicle pulled in behind him.

  He recognized Lieutenant Creighton immediately.

  "I'm looking for Arden Doherty," Creighton said. "Is she still staying here?"

  Shaun nodded. Just because she hadn't slept there the past two nights didn't mean she wasn't still living there. Not if he had anything to say about it. "She had a late conference today. I'm not sure when she'll be back."

  He didn't have the slightest idea where Arden was, but he guessed the lieutenant would have tried her office before coming here. And he figured it would work to his advantage if Creighton thought he was fully apprised of the situation.

  "I'll catch up with her some other time, then."

  "Can I tell her why you stopped by?" Shaun prompted. "Do you have any new information for her?"

  "Not really," Creighton admitted. "I just wanted to let her know that we've already started canvassing the neighborhood to see if anyone might have seen an unfamiliar face or vehicle around here Saturday morning."

  Here. That meant that Arden had received another letter delivered to his house, and she'd never bothered to tell him about it. "We appreciate your quick response on this," Shaun said.

  Creighton nodded and started toward his car. He hesitated, then turned back to Shaun. "Maybe you could tell me where you were Saturday morning, Mr. McIver."

  "What time?"

  "Sometime before 8:30 a.m., when Ms. Doherty found the letter tucked inside the newspaper."

  He tried to think, but he couldn't seem to get his mind around the fact that Arden had received another letter. At his house. And that she hadn't told him about it. "Do you really think I could be sending her these letters?"

  Creighton shrugged. "I'm just exploring all possibilities. And since you live here, it would be easy enough to plant a letter in your own newspaper."

  "I didn't," Shaun said.

  "Then you won't mind telling me where you were."

  "I was with Ms. Doherty, all night. I'm sure she can verify my whereabouts."

  "I'm sure you understand that the question had to be asked. I appreciate your cooperation."

  "The only reason you're getting it is that I'm as anxious as you are to find whoever is sending these letters to Arden. I want her to feel safe."

  Creighton nodded again. "I'll be in touch."

  * * *

  Arden had to go back to Shaun's house. She'd stopped by earlier in the day, when she was sure he'd be at the office, to pick up a few things she needed. But she'd forgotten a file of case law she'd put together, and she needed it for an upcoming mediation. She'd tried to think of a way around it, but there was none. She needed the file.

  By the time she pulled into his driveway, her stomach was tied in knots so tight Houdini wouldn't have managed to undo them. She wasn't up to going another round with Shaun about their relationship. She'd never wanted to hurt him, and she knew that she had. She also knew that she'd do it again if she had to. She'd do whatever was necessary to protect him.

  He was in the living room, his feet propped up on the coffee table, watching the news on television. She expected him to ask why she was there. He didn't.

  "You just missed Lieutenant Creighton," he said instead.

  Arden stiffened. "Did he need to see me?"

  "He said he'd catch up with you at your office tomorrow. Something about the letter you got Saturday."

  Arden just nodded.

  "You didn't tell me you got another letter."

  "It didn't say anything new."

  "No, but it's the first one that was delivered here, wasn't it?"

  She hesitated briefly. "Yes."

  "Is that why you decided to move out?"

  "I decided to move out because I've imposed on you long enough. I needed to find a place of my own again."

  "I didn't think you minded staying here."

  "It was fun for a while," she said flippantly. "But like I said, it's time to move on."

  "You got that letter, and you were scared that he might come after you here."

  "I wouldn't want to be responsible for your house burning down."

  "Is that all it was?"

  "Isn't that enough?"

  "I want you to be honest with me, Arden. I want to know why you suddenly decided, the same day you got a letter from your wacko pen pal, that you needed to move out, that our relationship was over."

  "I told you I wasn't good with relationships. It was only a matter of time before things fell apart."

  "But things didn't fall apart."

  "Obviously we have different opinions."

  "Do we?"

  "Look, I have a lot of work to do tonight, so if you don't mind—"

  "I do mind," he cut in. "I want some answers."

  "I've given you all the answers I'm going to."

  She started toward the stairs to retrieve the file she needed.

  "I love you, Arden."

  His words halted her in her tracks. A long, tense moment passed before she turned to face him again. "I'll get the last of my things out of here so I won't have to bother you again."

  "You're running scared."

  "So what if I am? There's some psycho sending me threatening letters—to my office, my home, and now here. The cops are pretty sure he's responsible for torching my apartment and placing a bomb on my desk, maybe even shooting out my windows, but they don't have a single clue as to who it might be, and he's still coming after me. I think I'm entitled to feel scared."

  "You should be afraid of him," Shaun said calmly. "But you're more afraid of what's happening between us. Of the feelings you have for me."

  "You're delusional."

  "Am I?"

  "Yes."

  "Then why are you so determined to leave? Why now?"

  "I told you—this isn't working out, and I thought it would be easier for both of us if I found somewhere else to stay."

  He shrugged. "I have three spare bedrooms."

  "Don't you think it would be a little awkward?"

  "Not at all."

  She knew his nonchalance was intended to annoy her, to make her lose her cool. She refused to give him the satisfaction. "Well, I do. I can't stay here anymore."

 
"You're safe here, Arden. I have a security system. I'll hire a twenty-four-hour guard if it will make you feel better. In any event, you're safer here than anywhere else."

  "Goodbye, Shaun."

  He made no move to stop her as she went upstairs to pack. But a few minutes later he came into the bedroom with a suitcase of his own and began stuffing his clothes into it.

  She watched him for a moment, frowning.

  "What are you doing?" she demanded at last.

  "Packing."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm going with you."

  * * *

  Chapter 17

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  "Where?" Arden sounded genuinely baffled.

  "Wherever you're going," Shaun told her.

  "No."

  "Creighton thinks whoever has been writing the letters is getting more desperate."

  "That's why I have to go."

  His eyes narrowed. "You're afraid he'll come here, aren't you?"

  "I need to deal with this on my own."

  "Dammit, Arden. Why are you so determined to shut me out? Don't you know that whatever happens affects me, too?"

  "That's the point. I don't want this to affect you."

  "It does. And it will, whether you're living here or not. At least if you're here, you're not alone."

  "Please let me go, Shaun."

  "I can't. I need you, Arden."

  "That's not fair."

  "It's true." And he knew it carried more weight than his love for her. That just plain terrified her. He hated that she didn't trust his feelings, wouldn't trust her own. But he did love her, and the love he felt gave him patience he ordinarily wouldn't have. He'd give her time, as much time as she needed. But he wouldn't give her up.

  So he kissed her. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, a silent pledge of his feelings. But both of their emotions were running high, and their passions quickly escalated out of control.

  They made love wildly, desperately. His hands streaked over her body, relentless, demanding. She responded to his demands, countered with her own. They rolled across the bed, on top of the covers, a tangle of limbs and needs. When he plunged into the wet heat between her thighs, she screamed out with her release. He tried to hold back, to catch his breath, but she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper inside.

  Lust took over, pushed everything else aside. He drove into her, again and again, the slap of damp flesh against damp flesh interspersed with their primitive grunts and moans. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Everything he felt was stronger, sharper, deeper, and the intensity of his orgasm shook him to the very core.

  Finally he collapsed on top of her, their bodies, slick with sweat, still joined together. He wasn't sure whether he should thank her or apologize, but he knew they'd both needed the release they'd shared. And he needed to tell her what was in his heart.

  "I love you, Arden."

  He felt her go completely still beneath hint, her eyes wide. It wasn't the first time he'd said the words to her, but it was the first time he'd ever spoken them when their bodies were joined together, warm and sated from lovemaking. When she couldn't turn away.

  "Shaun, please, you promised—"

  He knew that if she hadn't been pinned beneath the weight of his body on the bed she would have bolted. She wanted to. He sensed that in her, fought the annoyance her response elicited.

  "I promised not to push you," he reminded her. "And I'm not. I'm not asking for anything. But I need you to know how I feel about you. I want you to get used to hearing it."

  "I don't think I ever will," she admitted. "I don't understand why you think you feel this way."

  "Because you're the most incredible woman I've ever known. You challenge me. You inspire me. You make me a better person. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you."

  * * *

  Later, in the warm comfort of Shaun's arms, she slept deeply, contentedly. That simple fact proved to her what she'd been fighting for so long: she needed him. She wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but he'd become an integral part of her life, and she was no longer willing to walk away from what they shared together. Not that he would let her. And she was torn between relief and frustration that he was so determined to stand by her.

  She was also increasingly apprehensive. Two days had passed since she'd received the letter that promised the time was near. Soon this nightmare would be over.

  She didn't expect it to be as soon as the next day.

  It was just after five o'clock when he came in to her office. Rebecca had gone for the day and Marcy was out at a settlement conference. Arden was alone.

  "Where is she?" his harsh gravelly voice demanded.

  Arden's heart leaped into her throat, choking her. She hadn't wanted to believe that it could be him. Not now. Not after so much time had passed.

  She looked up from the file on her desk and cringed as her eyes met his. His were glassy and bloodshot, his face haggard from too much drink over too many years, his hair more gray than brown now. It had been twenty years since she'd seen Gavin Elliott, her stepfather, and the years had not been kind. But there was no doubt that it was him.

  She clenched her hands into fists in her lap, tried to curb the rising panic. She couldn't help feeling like the frightened eight-year-old girl who wasn't sure what she'd done to displease him, only knowing that she'd get walloped for it. The terror rose inside her, because she knew him, and she knew what he was capable of.

  Reminding herself that she was an adult and that he no longer had the power to hurt her, she straightened her shoulders and faced him. "If you're referring to my mother, I have no idea where she is. But since you're asking the question, I'll assume she finally walked out on you, and I can't tell you how happy that makes me."

  He crossed over to the desk, not quite steady on his feet. But the backhanded slap was sharp enough to send her head reeling back, bring tears to her eyes. She forced her gaze to meet his evenly, but she couldn't disguise the quaver in her voice when she spoke again. "Get out of my office."

  "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me where your mother is."

  "I don't know where she is," Arden told him. "But even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

  "Don't tell me you don't know, you lying slut. You've been sending her stuff in the mail, women's lib propaganda."

  Arden shook her head. Years ago she'd sent information to her mother, trying to make her understand that there were places she could go, people who would help. Her mother had told her not to interfere, and eventually Arden had given up. She didn't want to know what had finally compelled her mother to leave the man she'd always defended so staunchly.

  "Get out of my office now," she said, rising to her feet, praying that her knees would support her weight. "Or I'll call the police."

  Gavin grabbed the phone on top of the desk with both hands and heaved it across the room. The trickle of panic that had surfaced when she'd seen him standing in the doorway of her office gave way to full-fledged terror.

  "I have a right to know where she is," he snarled. "She's my wife."

  "You have no right to—"

  The words lodged in her throat as he wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back so hard and fast she saw stars behind her eyes. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Everything she'd read about abusive parents indicated that they gave up when the kids fought back. But he was here, and she was scared.

  "If I can't have her, maybe I'll settle for you." His lips curled into something that might have been a smile.

  Her stomach churned. His breath was hot and reeked of whiskey.

  "You've grown up real nice, Arden. You look just like your mother did when we first got married." One hand was still fisted in her hair, but he closed the other one over her breast, squeezed.

  Nausea rose in her throat. Desperation fueled her response. She brought her knee up hard and caught him between the legs. Primitive, but effective. He released his grasp t
o clutch at himself as he fell to his knees. Arden ran through the door and locked herself in Marcy's office. She grabbed the phone, her hand trembling, her heart pounding.

  Her first instinct was to call Shaun. She desperately wanted to feel his arms around her, to have him tell her that everything was going to be okay. But the pounding on Marcy's office door reminded her that everything wasn't okay, and she knew there was nothing Shaun could do. She wouldn't let all the old doubts and insecurities control her actions. She had to be strong.

  She dialed the police station.

  * * *

  Arden sat in a hard plastic chair, a cup of now-cold coffee clutched in her hands, calmly reciting the events for Lieutenant Creighton. The earlier debilitating terror had subsided, or had at least been shoved aside, as she went through the motions of doing what needed to be done. She wouldn't fall apart. She wouldn't be intimidated. She wouldn't be a victim anymore.

  She'd thought her past was behind her. But if tonight had proven anything, it was that she wouldn't ever forget what had happened. The best she could hope for was to learn to live with it, and she knew that admitting what had happened so many years ago was the first step toward doing so.

  Creighton believed that Gavin Elliott was the man who'd been tormenting her for the past few months. According to the information he'd obtained from Arden's stepfather, his wife had left him several months earlier, just a few weeks before Arden received the first letter.

  She couldn't deny that the timing was suspicious, but the whole plan—the letters, the shooting, the fire, the bomb—had been too careful, too deliberate, to have been orchestrated by Gavin. Although he was a college professor, his appearance at her office tonight had seemed spontaneous, a desperate attack by a desperate man. She'd never got the impression that her pen pal was desperate. He seemed more calculating. More dangerous.

  But there was also evidence that Simon Granger had spent time in Arizona, and while there was no hard evidence linking him to Gavin Elliott, it was another coincidence she couldn't ignore.

  Still, she would have felt a lot better if Gavin would just confess. So far he hadn't done so. In fact, he continued to deny any knowledge of the threats. Of course, he'd also denied ever having hurt her in the past, so she knew his claims of innocence didn't count for much.