Secret Obsession (Carder Texas Connections #6)(12)
The forensics specialist nodded.
“Then we’re out of here.”
Zane peered out the window. “Black-and-whites. We’re out of time.”
“Take the fire escape,” Noah ordered her.
Lyssa climbed onto the landing, his words finally sinking in. She paused. “Archimedes knows about you. Oh, God. What have I done?” She should never have called Reid. She should have done this alone. She was a fool.
Noah frowned at her. “Don’t go shaky on me now, Lyssa. He would have known soon anyway. Hopefully it will irritate him enough he’ll make a mistake.”
“He hasn’t yet, Noah.” Lyssa took a deep breath, regret weighing heavy on her shoulders. “You’re all in danger. I’m so sorry...”
Noah climbed a few steps down the ladder on the side of the building. “But we also learned that his obsession has escalated. He never left cameras before. He’s getting desperate, and desperate men make mistakes. It’s only a matter of time.”
A matter of time before more people died. Lyssa didn’t know if she could live with any more of Archimedes’s “messages.”
She peered over the side of the building, down the rickety fire-escape ladder. Noah stared up at her, his stance confident, waiting for her, ready to catch her. She looked into his chocolate brown eyes.
Noah emitted certainty with every decision, every move, and Lyssa only knew one thing for sure. Now that Noah was in her life, he wouldn’t willingly leave. Not as long as he breathed.
When she’d decided to confront Archimedes, she’d thought she’d be on her own—like always. Then Noah had come into her life. She’d been so determined she hadn’t considered she’d be putting him and his team at risk.
What had she done?
*
THE FIFTY-INCH monitor flickered in the darkness. Archimedes sat forward in a leather chair in the pristine penthouse suite and watched the snow-filled screen.
“Alessandra, Alessandra,” he said with a cluck of his tongue. “Haven’t you learned?”
He typed in a few commands and the monitor cleared, but this time the room was empty. Except for his promise in blood.
They thought they could outsmart him. They might have disabled his signal and even taken one camera, but he never moved forward without a contingency plan. The second device worked perfectly.
Police flooded the room, then cordoned it off; they looked like little ants scurrying about on his screen. They’d be looking for Lyssa soon. WitSec would get involved. His little bird would sing to him all the information he needed.
As for Alessandra, he would have to be more clear with his message the next time.
He picked up a perfectly sharpened pencil and brand-new notepad from the walnut desk beside him. Switching signals, he rewound the tape, pausing the moment she’d entered the room.
She had been holding the hand of another man. A man who wanted her. Archimedes could see the desire in the intruder’s eyes, in the way he infected Alessandra with his touch.
The pencil-tip broke.
He tossed the offending implement into the garbage can and took a second pencil. He stilled the tape.
“You belong to me,” he whispered. “I am your destiny. We’ve waited ten years to be together. Nothing will stop us now.”
A printer whirred and his rival’s face stared back from the image it produced. “No one will stop us.”
He walked to the closet and pulled out a new coat. He placed the bloodstained cashmere overcoat in the fireplace, sprinkled a small amount of accelerant and lit a match.
The fire exploded in warmth and the flames danced in celebration, consuming the evidence linking him to the waitress’s unplanned death. Such a waste, but he refused to make a mistake. Not so close to having her.
Another lesson was in order.
Alessandra would be his.
And the man she leaned on—he would pay a heavy price for wanting her.
*
THE SMELLS AND sounds of Chicago’s nightlife rang through the air: Italian spices, succulent barbecue, rumbling traffic, the clink of glasses, a few far-off sirens and laughter. Noah clutched Lyssa’s resistant hand, anchoring her to his side. The city never turned completely dark, but that didn’t mean peril didn’t lurk in the shadows, no matter how inviting the music in the bars or how many people milled around enjoying the atmosphere.
Noah didn’t want to think about how comfortable and right Lyssa’s hand felt in his. To everyone watching, they seemed to be a couple walking the streets of Chicago at dinnertime. No one would guess they were on the lookout for a serial killer—a man whose face and identity remained a frustrating mystery.
A darkened alcove appeared just ahead. Noah slowed. The danger prowling just out of sight reminded him more of Afghanistan than a business district in one of America’s largest cities. He scanned each potential vulnerability before he allowed Lyssa to move forward.
She wasn’t any less vigilant. Her free hand hovered near her .45, poised for combat. He’d want her in his corner if he had to fight it out. He had no doubt she wouldn’t give up in the midst of a battle. Which wouldn’t be a problem as long as they were on the same page. If their plans of attack diverged, Noah could see fireworks in their future, and not the pleasurable kind.
Lyssa motioned left at the corner, and he swiftly circled to keep his body between the street and her. In front of a small mom-and-pop diner she stopped. He glanced at the hours posted on the glass. They’d be open a while longer, until 11:00 p.m.