The Lonely Mile(39)
In a voice shaking with what she prayed he would think was desire rather than barely controlled panic, she said, “Is this how you want our first time to be?”
CHAPTER 35
BILL PACED HIS APARTMENT, frustrated and angry. He should be doing something. He needed to be doing something. An irrational and dangerous sociopath had kidnapped his only child, and he was one hundred percent to blame, and he was sick and tired of waiting for someone else to take action.
His heart raced and pounded, and he breathed heavily in and out, like he was running a marathon, and suddenly he understood the meaning of “panic attack.” It was something he had never experienced, but he felt as if he was on the verge of one right now. Calm down, man. Think!
As he was pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair, he heard a knock on his apartment door. Who could that be? Nobody ever visited him here except for Carli. Could it possibly be her? Get a grip, Bill—that would be too much to hope for. The knock came again, and Bill turned on his heel and marched toward the entrance to his tiny apartment. Who could it possibly be? Could it be…?
He swung the door open wide and blinked in surprise, his heart pounding as hard as ever. Standing in front of the door, fanning her face to try to generate a little air flow in the sweltering heat of the oven-like apartment building, was FBI Special Agent Angela Canfield. She looked tired and drawn, like she hadn’t been sleeping well, and it occurred to Bill that he wasn’t the only one feeling the weight of responsibility for Carli’s disappearance.
“Oh, God,” he said. He hadn’t thought his fear and panic could get any worse, but he had been wrong. “Is it Carli? Have you—?”
“No,” Canfield said quickly. “We haven’t found her. I’m not here because of Carli.”
Bill shook his head, confused. “If you haven’t heard anything about Carli, then why…?”
“I’ve put in sixteen hours today and needed to get away for a while. I left my partner, Mike Miller, in charge at the home of the murdered bus driver and gave him instructions to call my cell if anything significant turns up. In the meantime, I thought it might be a good idea to see how you were holding up. That was a pretty rough scene between you and your ex this afternoon.”
A trickle of sweat rolled down Bill’s neck. He felt flushed. “It was a bad scene,” he agreed, “and it didn’t feel good to be screamed at in front of all those people, but I can’t really disagree with her. It was my fault. Sandra wanted to keep Carli home where she would be safe, and I convinced her to let our baby go to school. I caused this heartache, plain and simple, and I don’t blame Sandra for reminding me of that.”
“There’s plenty of blame to go around,” Canfield reminded him. “Don’t forget, I put my stamp of approval on the whole thing, too. I offered my assurance as a law enforcement professional that Carli would be safe.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Bill answered. “If I had disagreed with you, there is no way Sandra would have given in. None. I’m her father. I’m the one ultimately responsible for protecting her. I’m the one who led that crazy I-90 Killer to her door. I’m the one who failed. It’s just that simple.”
Angela laid a hand on his arm. It felt cool against the heat radiating off his skin. “It doesn’t do any good to blame yourself,” she said quietly. “It won’t get us any closer to bringing Carli home, and that’s the goal—to bring Carli Ferguson home.”
Bill felt dizzy and suddenly tired. Angela left her small, cool hand on his arm and drew closer to him. He looked down into her jarringly bright blue eyes, then he took a half-step toward her, lost in those intense eyes. She matched his advance with a step of her own, and now their bodies were almost touching. This was crazy. Carli was missing and he was going to—what? Get involved with the agent in charge of the investigation? She lifted her hand off his arm and touched his cheek, her eyes never leaving his. She reached up and kissed him, softly at first, then more demanding.
His fear and anger and frustration intersected, exploding into a hunger, a need to leave the despair behind for a few moments with this desirable woman. He returned her kiss with passion, like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline. He drew her slim body into his with an unspoken need that matched his own. Their tongues danced and darted, and her body was warm and sweaty.
Bill pulled his lips from hers reluctantly. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he managed, “for a hundred very good reasons.”
“I know,” Canfield responded, “maybe a thousand.” Then she unbuttoned his shirt. She took firm hold of his shirttail and led him down the short hallway to the bedroom.
CHAPTER 36
“IS THIS HOW YOU want our first time to be?” Carli asked, stopping Martin in his tracks.
He stood at the side of her bed, hands on his jeans where he was preparing to unzip them, and gaped at his angel in astonishment. The words she had just spoken were the last things he expected to come out of her mouth. Is she messing with my head? Or is it possible she really wants me? Maybe she’s been waiting for an older man. That would be too much to hope for, but still…
He cleared his throat. “Excuse me? What do you mean?” It was imperative he not allow this young girl, destiny or not, to realize how badly she had rattled him just through the force of her personality.