The Last Move
Page 54
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” She rose and paced back and forth. Nervous energy snapped through her body. “His number was blocked, and if he was using a burner, my guess is he’s disabled it by now.”
“Are you still at your mother’s house?”
“Yes.”
“I can be there in half an hour.”
She glanced down at her trembling hand and drew in a breath as she flexed her fingers. It had been a long time since she felt this rattled and unsteady. “That’s unnecessary. Get a few more hours’ sleep. I don’t want William to think he’s under my skin. Plus, I’ll need you to rest up. You’re going to need it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Very.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
William stared at Katie as she paced by the edge of her bed. She was so tense and nervous. She’d acted so cool and calm on the phone, and for a moment he thought he’d not gotten to her, but he had.
He watched as she tossed her phone on the unmade bed. It didn’t surprise him that she’d called Mazur. He was her partner in this case, and Katie, if anything, stuck to procedure. She was so predictable, even at chess . . . most of the time.
Thinking about Mazur irritated him. He didn’t like the way the cop’s gaze tracked her a little too closely. She was a unique woman, and no doubt the detective wanted in her pants almost as badly as he did.
As Kate stripped off her nightgown and moved to her suitcase to slip on her bra, he leaned in closer to the screen and watched. He grew hard and thought about what it had been like to touch those breasts and to kiss them.
When he’d first met Kate, he’d been smitten. Puppy love, some might have said. It had taken him months to summon the nerve to ask her out. And when he had, he’d been shocked when she’d said yes. They’d dated for several weeks, and she’d grown to really like him. On what was their last date, he’d walked her home and had kissed her. She’d given in to his touch and kissed him back. He’d felt her hunger. Her need. He’d been so hard.
She’d tensed, but he’d told himself that was her excitement. When she’d whispered no in his ear, he’d thought her a tease. He’d kept kissing her, and when she pushed him away, he grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. She’d kicked and cried, but her fear only excited him more. He stripped off her pants, freed himself, and pressed into her, feeling her tightness and her nervous energy. That moment had been so perfect that he replayed it over and over in his head. He’d expected more from her, but after the best day of his life, she’d been cool, distant. She’d flinched when he tried to touch her. When he’d finally said good night, her father had been waiting.
He wouldn’t see her again for another month. She’d been too busy. She had plenty of excuses why she couldn’t see him.
Finally at a chess tournament he’d seen her. He wanted to talk to her about what they’d shared, but contact and conversation were limited. When her gaze reached his, he’d seen strain. Her fingers were tense and her body so still when they’d played in the finals.
He was so in love with her.
“Where have you been?” he’d whispered as he moved a pawn forward.
“I can’t see you anymore.”
“Is it because of your father? He doesn’t like me.”
She’d pressed the tip of her index finger on a bishop and moved it three diagonal spaces.
She didn’t meet his gaze.
“It has nothing to do with my father.”
“You love me. You let me be the first.”
She shook her head as her fingers curled into tight fists. “That was a mistake.”
He stared at her, barely able to think clearly. She’d stayed focused and continued to play. She was much better. This time she beat him.
After that night he walked by her house often. He would stand in the shadows and stare at her at night. Once in a while he’d see her pass in front of a window. He would stare toward her, willing her to see him, but she never did.
More and more William became convinced that she was a prisoner in her home. And it was his mission to put an end to her imprisonment.
Once his mission was clear, then it was a matter of planning. He followed her father, noting his daily habits, his moves, and when he was alone.
That night in the dark parking lot, he’d seen her emerge from the building and walk toward the car. He’d been so focused on her that he hadn’t seen her father, who had shouted for him to put the gun down. He’d fired, shooting Mr. Hayden first.
Kate’s piercing scream had shifted his focus. He took aim at her, determined to destroy her heart as she’d destroyed his. He fired, but she’d pivoted. The bullet had sliced her leg. When she dropped, he fired again, but this time he was more nervous and his hand shook. The bullet cut across her face. Blood gushed, and he’d thought he’d killed her.
He ran. Though when he stopped to catch his breath nearly a mile away from the scene and slid into his father’s car, his body was alive with fear and a triumphant rush he’d never experienced.
He’d never expected to be so excited or to enjoy the thrill of the kill.
Later, after his arrest, he learned she was alive and that he had failed. In the courtroom, she’d been very precise when she testified against him. Mitchell had railed his frustration at the sentencing hearing, but Kate hadn’t spoken a word.
Over the last seventeen years, he’d followed her work after she joined the FBI. She kept a low profile, but he paid close attention and made it a point to track her development. What case she was solving. Though he wanted to hate her, he took pride in her wins. She rose through the ranks and was one of the best agents in the country. She liked to chase killers, so he’d decided to become the ultimate killer.
He watched as she dressed in her blue slacks and white shirt. He liked the way the fabric clung to her breasts. But the pants and matching jacket were too dark and heavy for her small frame. When the time came, he would ask her to dress differently.
She paced the room. His call had upset her. Made her restless. She wanted to go for a run, but wouldn’t dare in the dark.
He traced the outline of her body on the screen and smiled. “Come and get me, Katie. Find me. You know you want me.”
She studied every corner of the room as if searching. For an instant, she stared toward the window. She thought someone was looking through the window, never realizing the camera and microphone were hidden in the grate.
Those pale-blue eyes cut into him. And he recoiled before he reminded himself she couldn’t see him.
She thought she was smarter than he was, but she underestimated him. That would be the first lesson she would learn from him.
“Are you worthy of what I’ve planned for you, Katie? Are you up for the challenge? I hope you are, because I want a good fight before I checkmate you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
San Antonio, Texas
Thursday, November 30, 6:00 a.m.
When Kate moved from her room down the center hallway of her mother’s home, she was careful to be very quiet. Her mother had never been an early riser, and she didn’t want to wake her. Avoiding the part of the floor that always creaked, she went into the kitchen. Opening cabinets, she was comforted to know her mother still kept everything where she remembered it. Retrieving the bag of coffee that had always been her father’s favorite, she made a strong pot and toasted a bagel. She selected a mug that said “Texas”—it had been hers in high school.
“I don’t know.” She rose and paced back and forth. Nervous energy snapped through her body. “His number was blocked, and if he was using a burner, my guess is he’s disabled it by now.”
“Are you still at your mother’s house?”
“Yes.”
“I can be there in half an hour.”
She glanced down at her trembling hand and drew in a breath as she flexed her fingers. It had been a long time since she felt this rattled and unsteady. “That’s unnecessary. Get a few more hours’ sleep. I don’t want William to think he’s under my skin. Plus, I’ll need you to rest up. You’re going to need it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Very.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
William stared at Katie as she paced by the edge of her bed. She was so tense and nervous. She’d acted so cool and calm on the phone, and for a moment he thought he’d not gotten to her, but he had.
He watched as she tossed her phone on the unmade bed. It didn’t surprise him that she’d called Mazur. He was her partner in this case, and Katie, if anything, stuck to procedure. She was so predictable, even at chess . . . most of the time.
Thinking about Mazur irritated him. He didn’t like the way the cop’s gaze tracked her a little too closely. She was a unique woman, and no doubt the detective wanted in her pants almost as badly as he did.
As Kate stripped off her nightgown and moved to her suitcase to slip on her bra, he leaned in closer to the screen and watched. He grew hard and thought about what it had been like to touch those breasts and to kiss them.
When he’d first met Kate, he’d been smitten. Puppy love, some might have said. It had taken him months to summon the nerve to ask her out. And when he had, he’d been shocked when she’d said yes. They’d dated for several weeks, and she’d grown to really like him. On what was their last date, he’d walked her home and had kissed her. She’d given in to his touch and kissed him back. He’d felt her hunger. Her need. He’d been so hard.
She’d tensed, but he’d told himself that was her excitement. When she’d whispered no in his ear, he’d thought her a tease. He’d kept kissing her, and when she pushed him away, he grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. She’d kicked and cried, but her fear only excited him more. He stripped off her pants, freed himself, and pressed into her, feeling her tightness and her nervous energy. That moment had been so perfect that he replayed it over and over in his head. He’d expected more from her, but after the best day of his life, she’d been cool, distant. She’d flinched when he tried to touch her. When he’d finally said good night, her father had been waiting.
He wouldn’t see her again for another month. She’d been too busy. She had plenty of excuses why she couldn’t see him.
Finally at a chess tournament he’d seen her. He wanted to talk to her about what they’d shared, but contact and conversation were limited. When her gaze reached his, he’d seen strain. Her fingers were tense and her body so still when they’d played in the finals.
He was so in love with her.
“Where have you been?” he’d whispered as he moved a pawn forward.
“I can’t see you anymore.”
“Is it because of your father? He doesn’t like me.”
She’d pressed the tip of her index finger on a bishop and moved it three diagonal spaces.
She didn’t meet his gaze.
“It has nothing to do with my father.”
“You love me. You let me be the first.”
She shook her head as her fingers curled into tight fists. “That was a mistake.”
He stared at her, barely able to think clearly. She’d stayed focused and continued to play. She was much better. This time she beat him.
After that night he walked by her house often. He would stand in the shadows and stare at her at night. Once in a while he’d see her pass in front of a window. He would stare toward her, willing her to see him, but she never did.
More and more William became convinced that she was a prisoner in her home. And it was his mission to put an end to her imprisonment.
Once his mission was clear, then it was a matter of planning. He followed her father, noting his daily habits, his moves, and when he was alone.
That night in the dark parking lot, he’d seen her emerge from the building and walk toward the car. He’d been so focused on her that he hadn’t seen her father, who had shouted for him to put the gun down. He’d fired, shooting Mr. Hayden first.
Kate’s piercing scream had shifted his focus. He took aim at her, determined to destroy her heart as she’d destroyed his. He fired, but she’d pivoted. The bullet had sliced her leg. When she dropped, he fired again, but this time he was more nervous and his hand shook. The bullet cut across her face. Blood gushed, and he’d thought he’d killed her.
He ran. Though when he stopped to catch his breath nearly a mile away from the scene and slid into his father’s car, his body was alive with fear and a triumphant rush he’d never experienced.
He’d never expected to be so excited or to enjoy the thrill of the kill.
Later, after his arrest, he learned she was alive and that he had failed. In the courtroom, she’d been very precise when she testified against him. Mitchell had railed his frustration at the sentencing hearing, but Kate hadn’t spoken a word.
Over the last seventeen years, he’d followed her work after she joined the FBI. She kept a low profile, but he paid close attention and made it a point to track her development. What case she was solving. Though he wanted to hate her, he took pride in her wins. She rose through the ranks and was one of the best agents in the country. She liked to chase killers, so he’d decided to become the ultimate killer.
He watched as she dressed in her blue slacks and white shirt. He liked the way the fabric clung to her breasts. But the pants and matching jacket were too dark and heavy for her small frame. When the time came, he would ask her to dress differently.
She paced the room. His call had upset her. Made her restless. She wanted to go for a run, but wouldn’t dare in the dark.
He traced the outline of her body on the screen and smiled. “Come and get me, Katie. Find me. You know you want me.”
She studied every corner of the room as if searching. For an instant, she stared toward the window. She thought someone was looking through the window, never realizing the camera and microphone were hidden in the grate.
Those pale-blue eyes cut into him. And he recoiled before he reminded himself she couldn’t see him.
She thought she was smarter than he was, but she underestimated him. That would be the first lesson she would learn from him.
“Are you worthy of what I’ve planned for you, Katie? Are you up for the challenge? I hope you are, because I want a good fight before I checkmate you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
San Antonio, Texas
Thursday, November 30, 6:00 a.m.
When Kate moved from her room down the center hallway of her mother’s home, she was careful to be very quiet. Her mother had never been an early riser, and she didn’t want to wake her. Avoiding the part of the floor that always creaked, she went into the kitchen. Opening cabinets, she was comforted to know her mother still kept everything where she remembered it. Retrieving the bag of coffee that had always been her father’s favorite, she made a strong pot and toasted a bagel. She selected a mug that said “Texas”—it had been hers in high school.
