"Quite the decadent little boudoir, isn't it?" Fiona Gallagher did a slow three-sixty, her expression ranging from shock and dismay to outright wonder. "Did you know about your friend's shall we say unusual tastes when you agreed to apartment-sit for her?"
Kaitlin grinned. "No, but I like what she's done with the place."
Fiona shot her a look. "You do not."
"I do, too. And furthermore? If I decide to get my own apartment? I'm calling her decorator."
"Where do you expect to find him? In the Yellow Pages under Fetishes R Us?" Fiona ran her hand along the telescope that was mounted on a tripod in front of a wall of windows framing the Chicago skyline. "Dollars to doughnuts she doesn't use this for stargazing."
"Maybe she likes to watch the boats on the lake."
"You can barely even see the lake from here. And stop trying to convince me you actually like this Kama Sutra nightmare. I know you too well. Down deep, you're still the same little Katie Gallagher who eloped with the first guy she ever slept with."
"All right, I won't try to convince you." But in the week since Kaitlin had first moved into the apartment, she really had come to appreciate the lavish colors and sumptuous textures, the erotic beauty of the artwork displayed on walls and in niches.
The dιcor was so far removed from the house she'd fled in the suburbs that Kaitlin had welcomed the change any change with open arms.
What she hadn't been able to adjust to quite so easily, however, was the mirrored ceiling. She'd broken her foot that morning, and keeping it elevated meant that she had to spend a lot of time on her back. The woman who stared down at her from that mirror looked a little too lost and forlorn. A little too haunted by memories.
Fiona bent to the eyepiece on the telescope. "Your friend is obviously into some naughty stuff here, Kaitlin. Voyeurism is the word that comes to mind."
"Just because she collects erotic artwork and has a telescope in her bedroom doesn't mean she's...you know...kinky."
"Doesn't mean she's not, either.... Hello. What have we here?" Fiona adjusted the focus ring. "Seriously hot naked guy at twelve o'clock."
"Seriously?"
"No, wait. He's wearing pants. Damn." She didn't seem to appreciate the irony of her disappointment as she left the telescope and came to stand by the bed. "And speaking of hot guys, I was a little surprised to find your hubby here."
"Knowing how you feel about him, I'm a little surprised you'd admit that he's hot," Kaitlin said dryly.
Fiona shrugged. "Other than the horns and the cloven hooves, he's not so bad."
She was joking, but Kaitlin hadn't found anything remotely amusing about her family's feud with her husband's for a long time. The Gallaghers and the O'Roarkes had been enemies for generations, ever since William Gallagher and James O'Roarke had had a bitter falling out over a woman Fiona and Kaitlin's grandmother, Colleen. William's sons and grandsons had followed him into the police department while James had gone on to found what would become one of the most notorious crime families in Chicago. The O'Roarkes had long since mended their ways, but there was still no love lost between the two families.
And now with Fiona a prosecutor and Dylan a defense attorney, they'd carried the feud over into the courtroom. Which left Kaitlin, as usual, caught in the middle.
"So what is he doing here?" Fiona persisted.
Kaitlin tried not to sound defensive. "He found out about the accident and came to check on me."
"And?"
"And nothing."
"Kaitlin, the man has set up a temporary office on the dining room table. He doesn't appear to be going anywhere anytime soon. That kind of defeats the purpose of a separation, doesn't it?"
"He's just staying for a little while in case I need anything. And stop looking at me like that," Kaitlin grumbled. "It doesn't mean...what you think it means."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. Look, we were married for seven years. We still care about each other. We just don't love each other anymore."
"So that's why you walked out on me," Dylan said from the doorway. "Thanks for the explanation, Kaitlin, because I never was too clear on your reason."
Even after everything they'd been through, the sight of Dylan in the doorway, tall, lean and incredibly handsome, still had the power to jump-start Kaitlin's heart.
No matter what else they'd lost, the attraction was still there, sometimes stronger than ever. Kaitlin suspected that was because her husband had once again become a stranger to her. A man she hardly knew. A forbidden lover for whom she'd once been willing to sacrifice her mind, body and soul.
But no more. Kaitlin had awakened one morning to the realization that she could no longer go on the way they had been. The ugliness between the O'Roarkes and the Gallaghers had put a terrible strain on her and Dylan's relationship. Where once the hostility between their families had served to bring the two of them closer, now it was merely another broken stitch in a marriage that was fast coming apart at the seams.
Sensing the sudden tension, Fiona gathered up her coat and purse. "I need to be shoving off, but I'll see you soon, okay? Oh, I almost forgot. A little something for the invalid." She handed Kaitlin a plastic shopping bag from a movie rental store.
Kaitlin peeked inside. "Hitchcock! All my favorites, too. I can't believe you remembered."
"What are cousins for?" She shrugged into her coat, then blew a kiss from the doorway.
Dylan waited for the sound of Fiona's exit before he came slowly into the bedroom. He tried to keep his cool, but he felt as if he'd just been sucker-punched in the gut. "So we don't love each other anymore. When did you come to that conclusion?"
Kaitlin lay back against the pillows. "I don't want to talk about this right now. I'm tired."
Her cool dismissal made him so angry he had to wait a moment before he could speak. "And it's all about what you want, isn't it? You need some space. You need to find yourself. You need your independence. So you walk out on me and seven years of marriage without even once bothering to ask what I want."
She glared up at him. "Don't play the martyr, Dylan. If Aunt Maggie hadn't called you about the accident, you probably wouldn't even have noticed I was gone."
"Oh, I don't know. Coming home to find you packing your suitcases was a pretty big clue," he said with an edge of sarcasm.
Kaitlin shoved back her hair. "Okay, so I exaggerated. But you know what I mean. You put all your time and energy, your every waking hour into your career. And on the rare occasions when you are home, you're either on the phone or sequestered in your office going over briefs or depositions. And that's fine if it makes you happy, but what am I supposed to do? Sit around waiting for the walls to close in on me?"
"I didn't expect you to walk out."
She sighed. "It can't have been that much of a surprise. Things haven't been right between us for a long time. We were nothing more than polite roommates leading two separate lives before I left. We didn't even share the same bedroom anymore."
Because you made me feel as if I was no longer welcome in your bed, he thought defensively. "I started sleeping in the guest room because I didn't want to wake you up when I came in late."
"Did it ever occur to you that I might want you to wake me up?"
"Did it ever occur to you that by the time I got home, I might be too exhausted to cater to your every whim?" he shot back.
"Cater to my " Her eyes glittered with angry tears. "You think wanting to have a conversation with my husband is a whim? Wanting to share my day with him, wanting to share my life with him, is a whim?"
"And do you think I enjoy spending fifteen and sixteen hours a day at the office? Damn it, Kaitlin, I do it because that's what it takes to become a senior partner at the firm. I'm trying to build something for us. Trying to provide for our future. I thought you understood that."
"I do understand," Kaitlin said in a wounded tone. "But what good is providing for the future if we're miserable in the here and now?"
Miserable? She'd been miserable? Dylan drew a long breath. "So what's the next step here, Kaitlin? Divorce?"
Divorce? The word was like an arrow straight through Kaitlin's heart. "I never said anything about a divorce."
"Come on, Kaitlin. We both know where this is headed. A couple has to live separate and apart for a minimum of six months before a divorce can be granted on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. And that's only if neither spouse contests the petition. Don't tell me you didn't familiarize yourself with Illinois divorce laws before you moved in here."
"I didn't."
"Then what were you hoping to accomplish?" he asked with a frown. "Did you want me to come running after you? Beg you to come back to me? Promise to give up my career if it would make you happy? What is it you want from me, Kaitlin? Because I sure as hell don't know anymore."
I want you to be my husband again, she silently cried. I want things to be the way they once were when you could look at me and make me melt. I want you to look at me that way again. I want you to hold me, kiss me, touch me the way you used to....
But instead, she said sadly, "I don't want anything from you, Dylan. You're not responsible for my happiness. I realize that now. I didn't move into this apartment to establish a separate residence from you. I moved in here because I need to prove to myself that I can stand on my own two feet. That I can be alone without falling to pieces. And that maybe, just maybe, I can be happy again someday."
"Without me, you mean?"
She closed her eyes briefly. "I don't know. I just know I can't go back to the way things were."
He shoved his hands into his pockets as he turned to stare out the window. "You know what your problem is, Kaitlin? You still think our lives should be this great Romeo and Juliet love affair that defies all odds. But real life is more than just star-crossed lovers and fairy tales. It's mortgages and car payments and planning for a secure future."
She sighed. "I know that. And you're a wonderful provider, Dylan. You always have been."
He glanced over his shoulder. "Just a lousy husband, right?"
"I didn't say that."
"Actions speak louder than words, Kaitlin."
The bitterness in his tone brought fresh tears to her eyes. She'd never meant to hurt him. But after seven years of marriage, this is what they'd come to.
"Look, you really don't have to stay," she said. "I'm fine. You must have things you'd rather do."
He came back over to the bed. "What'll you do about dinner?"
"I'll fix a sandwich or order a pizza. I'm not completely helpless, you know. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and it's time we both realized that."
"That's the difference between us, Kaitlin. I've always known it."
Their gazes met in the falling darkness, and Kaitlin's heart constricted. "Don't," she whispered.
"Don't what?"
"Be nice to me."
"It's too little too late anyway, isn't it?" He turned back to the window.
Kaitlin cleared her throat. "If you insist on staying, maybe we should talk about something besides us."
He shrugged. "I'm open to suggestions."
She searched for something innocuous. "Tell me about work. You have a big case coming up, don't you?"
"I don't much feel like talking about work."
Kaitlin stared at him in shock. He lived and breathed work. "Okay, then. Tell me what you think of Jane's apartment."
He took a moment to study some of the erotic artwork on the walls, and when he glanced at Kaitlin, she saw something dark and knowing in his eyes. Something that made her shiver. Something that made her remember a time in the not-too-distant past when they had shared the same bedroom. And so much more.
"It's interesting. I'll say that for it." He leaned over to gaze through the telescope. "Do you ever use this thing?"
"No, not much." She paused. "Dylan, why do you think Jane has a telescope in her bedroom? Do you think she's a voyeur?"
He looked slightly taken aback by the question, as if surprised Kaitlin would even think such a thing. "I don't know. But if she had a habit of watching someone, I'd say the chances are pretty good that someone was watching her back."
Kaitlin cast an uneasy glance toward the windows. "Do you think someone could be watching us right now?"
Dylan shrugged. "It's possible. I doubt your friend is the only one who uses these high-rises as her own personal peep show. And no blinds, I notice."
"That bothered me, too, at first. But you could do a striptease in front of those windows and it wouldn't matter how many people saw you because none of them know you. You'll never see them in real life."
Dylan looked simultaneously annoyed and intrigued by the notion. "Are you speaking from experience?"
"No, but I've thought about it," she admitted. "Ever since we were married, I've felt as if I were being pulled in a thousand different directions. It's hard to be the perfect wife and the perfect daughter when your husband and your father hate each other. No matter what I do, I always end up hurting someone I love. But it's different here. No pressures. No expectations. No one even knows me. Anonymity can be a very liberating experience."
"I never realized you felt so imprisoned by our marriage," Dylan said bitterly.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you, but I'm trying to explain how I feel. Why I'm here. If there's any hope for us, we have to be honest with each other, don't we?"
"Maybe. But right now, I think I've had all the honesty I can stomach for one night." He strode across the room to the door.
"Dylan " When he turned, Kaitlin bit her lip, not knowing what to say to him. "Where are you going?"
"To get you some dinner."
"You don't have to do that. I can "
"Take care of yourself. Yeah, I got that, Kaitlin, so relax. I'm not trying to put a ball and chain around your ankle, okay? I'm just ordering you a pizza."
He slammed the door shut behind him, and Kaitlin lay in stunned silence. She'd never seen him so angry. Or hurt.
Her first instinct was to go to him, but she knew that would be a mistake. He might get the wrong idea, and then she might lose her resolve. And they'd both end up back where they started.
Reaching for her crutches, she got up and limped into the bathroom, taking great care to avoid the mirror over the sink as she washed up. She'd become adept at brushing her teeth, fixing her hair, even putting on makeup without ever really looking at her reflection. Without ever really seeing the unhappy woman who stared back at her.
That was why she had such a problem with that mirrored ceiling. It made it hard to avoid the truth.
Maneuvering back into the bedroom, she turned off the lamp, then stood at the bedroom window and studied the skyline. The view was breathtaking, the city lights so beautiful she could watch them forever.
There was something at once isolating and intimate about all those windows.
Gazing through the telescope, she shifted the tube until she found the apartment she wanted. The lens had been fixed on the window directly across from hers when she'd moved in, but Kaitlin had come to think that it must have been by accident. In the week since she'd been there, the apartment across the way had remained dark. The unit was either empty or the owner away on business or vacation.
But to her surprise, a light was on tonight, and she could see a man inside. He was dressed all in black, and the way he paced back and forth reminded her of a caged animal.
He had a phone to his ear, and suddenly he whirled and threw it against the wall with such force that Kaitlin could almost hear the crash.
A shiver of unease crept up her backbone, but she couldn't turn away. She watched, mesmerized, as he stalked over to the window, and for a moment, he appeared to be staring at her.
Even though it was dark in the bedroom, Kaitlin shrank back. He couldn't see her and he didn't know who she was, but gooseflesh prickled along her skin just the same.
She bent to the eyepiece again and saw that he'd rescued the phone. He lifted it to his ear and, evidently hearing a dial tone, punched in a number.
And then the phone in her bedroom started to ring.
The phone rang only twice before the answering machine kicked in. A dark, sensuous voice said on the tape, "Jane, if you're there, pick up. I have to talk to someone before I go crazy...."
The anxiety in his voice sent another chill up Kaitlin's spine. She bent to the eyepiece, and sure enough, the man in the apartment directly across from hers was still on the phone. Still pacing back and forth.
Kaitlin had no way of knowing if the voice on the answering machine belonged to him or not, but somehow she thought that it must. They seemed to fit. The timbre of the voice was deep and velvety. The man in the apartment was tall and sleek, with glossy black hair that brushed his shoulders and dark, smoldering eyes.
He was the antithesis of Dylan. Her husband had light brown hair clipped very short and eyes that were as blue as an Irish sky. And Dylan would never lose control the way this man had. He would never sound so...desperate.
Kaitlin could never imagine Dylan dressing all in black, either, let alone in a silky shirt opened at the neck and pants so tight they fit the man like a second skin. Fit him so well that she could see the definition of his sinewy muscles and his...
"Jane, please pick up...."
Dylan wore custom-made suits, starchy white shirts and silk ties knotted so perfectly they sometimes set Kaitlin's teeth on edge. That made her feel as if she needed to go back and start all over with her own appearance.
"I need you...."
Kaitlin watched him through the telescope. He was facing her now, and she could see his features as clearly as if he were standing in the same room with her.
Tall, dark, and handsome...
The clichι could have been written for him. And yet he wasn't perfect. Kaitlin sensed that he was flawed somehow, and that made him even more attractive.
She wondered if he was an artist or a writer. There was something eccentric about the way he dressed, something exotic about his looks. Something blatantly sexual about the way he prowled the apartment.
"If I don't talk to someone, I swear I'll go out of my mind."
He lifted a hand to gracefully drag it through his dark hair, and Kaitlin's stomach quivered in awareness.
"When I think about her with him, it kills me inside."
There was so much emotion in his voice...so much passion....
What would it be like to have a man love you so desperately? Kaitlin wondered. A man who wanted you so badly?
Dylan was upset and hurt at the moment, but deep down, Kaitlin suspected her leaving was more of an inconvenience to him than anything else. After he had time to get used to the idea, he might even be relieved.
"Jane..." The voice on the answering machine lowered. "You have to stop me. I'm afraid of what I might do "
The machine beeped.
In the apartment across from her, the man lifted his gaze to the window.
For the longest moment, they stared at one another, although he couldn't know for sure she was there. But somehow Kaitlin thought that he did. Somehow she could hear his silent appeal through the glass and distance that separated them. And for the space of a heartbeat it was as if they were the only two people in the world. Two needy souls reaching out in the darkness.
And then Dylan said from the doorway behind her, "Kaitlin? What the hell do you think you're doing?"
As Kaitlin spun to face Dylan, she lost her balance and her weight came down hard on her injured foot. Yelping in pain, she tried to compensate by shifting to the other leg, but it was too late. Her knees buckled and she tumbled to the floor, banging her head on the velvet chaise near the telescope.
Dylan's heart leaped to his throat when he saw her collapse because he knew he couldn't get to her in time. It was like the slow disintegration of their marriage, he thought in a flash. He could see it coming, but he was powerless to stop it.
He dropped to his knees beside her. "God, Kaitlin, are you okay?"
"I think so." She winced as she struggled to sit up.
He put his hand behind her back. "Here let me help you."
"I can do it myself!"
He sat back, wounded by her harshness. "Sorry."
"No, I'm sorry," she said contritely. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I just need to know that I can do this by myself. What if you hadn't been here?"
"But I am here."
"I know, but you won't always be."
A knife twisted in his heart. "Can I ask you something?"
"What is it?" She gritted her teeth as she reached for her crutches.
"Do you consider me weak?"
"Of course not, Dylan. We both know you're a rock. You can handle anything."
He ignored the edge of resentment in her tone. "If I found myself in your position," he said slowly. "I'd want your help. Would that make me weak? Would that make me too reliant?"
She slanted him a glance. "Look, I know what you're getting at, but I think the point here is, you would never find yourself in my position. You wouldn't have your head in the clouds and miss an icy patch on the sidewalk and embarrass yourself in front of half a dozen pedestrians."
"Don't be too sure. Everyone slips now and then."
"Not you, Dylan."
He stared at her in surprise. "You don't remember the time I fell off a ladder at home? We thought my leg was broken. I couldn't put any weight on it. You practically had to drag me to the car and then you drove me to the emergency room. I couldn't have made it without you. Did that make me weak?"
She sighed. "No."
"Then why is it such a big deal to let me help you now?"
"Because
"Look, Kaitlin." He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't pretend to understand everything that's going on with you, but all I want to do is help you back to bed. No hidden agenda."
She bit her lip, then nodded. "Okay. I could use a hand."
Dylan lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He half expected her to protest, to insist that he put her down, but instead she buried her face in his chest. And when he placed her gently on the bed, she clung to him, their lips only inches apart.
And as she gazed up at him, something stirred inside Dylan. She looked so small and vulnerable on the bed. So beautiful and sexy and desirable. And so lost, somehow.
He knew better than anyone what their marriage had cost her. In a very real sense, she'd lost her family because of him, and Dylan had made himself a promise on the day they'd eloped. He would spend the rest of his life making it up to her. He would take care of her, give her the kind of life she deserved, the kind of life he wanted her to have. But instead, he'd made her father's prophesy come true. He'd made her regret the day she'd ever met an O'Roarke.
As if reading his mind, she put a hand to his face. "It breaks my heart when you look that way," she said tenderly.
He cleared his throat. "What way?"
"Like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."
He wanted to kiss her. At that moment, he wanted to kiss her more than he'd wanted anything in his life. And he could have sworn he saw the same hunger in her eyes.
Their gazes held for the longest time, and then, as he lowered his head, the phone on the nightstand pealed loudly, a harsh intrusion that caused them both to jump.
Kaitlin lurched for the phone, although she didn't know why she was so frantic to answer, why she didn't want Dylan to hear the stranger's voice on the machine.
"Hello?"
Nothing but silence.
"Hello?"
More silence.
And then a deep, seductive voice said in her ear, "You're not Jane, are you?"
The line went dead so abruptly Kaitlin started.
And then it occurred to her that the stranger might not know who she was, but he knew who she wasn't. And he knew where she lived.
"Wrong number?" Dylan asked, as he moved to the end of the bed.
"Some guy calling for Jane." Kaitlin couldn't quite meet her husband's gaze. Why did she feel so guilty when she hadn't done anything wrong?
"Whoever he was, I'm sure you gave him a thrill before he hung up," Dylan said unexpectedly.
Her gaze shot to his. "What?"
"Your voice is a real turn-on, Kaitlin. In fact, whoever that guy was, he's probably fantasizing right now about having phone sex with you."
She gaped at him, speechless.
"I used to fantasize about it myself," he said calmly.
"You fantasized about...having phone sex...with me." Kaitlin found that revelation shocking on two levels. That Dylan had fantasies, and that she was in them.
His gaze on her intensified, so much so that it drew a shiver up Kaitlin's spine. "Sometimes when I'd be in a meeting with the senior partners, discussing my future with the firm or an upcoming case, my mind would wander and I'd find myself daydreaming about taking a phone call from you. I would imagine myself acting perfectly natural in front of the partners as I listened to you describe in graphic detail what you were wearing, what you wanted to do to me, and what you would make me do to you in return."
"Make you " This man wasn't Dylan. This was some pod Dylan who'd done away with the real one. This Dylan was making Kaitlin's heart beat way too fast.
"Are you telling me you not only fantasized about having phone sex with me, but having me..." How could she put this delicately? "Assume the dominate role?"
"Why is that so surprising?"
"Because you're always so in control, so strong. So...masterful in the bedroom. You're always the one "
"On top?"
She cringed at that. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
"Maybe that's because I'm the one who always had to initiate sex between us."
"That's not true."
"Yes, it is. Think about it, Kaitlin. When did you ever make the first move? When did you ever let me know that you wanted me? I was the one who always had to put myself out there for rejection. It's understandable, I guess. You were a virgin when we started dating so I thought I had to be the one in control. The one who had to take care of you. But now it seems like I'm being penalized for playing a role that we both cast me in. And I'm not just talking about our sex life."
She couldn't believe he was speaking so candidly. Dylan had never been one to talk about his feelings. "Why are you telling me all this now?"
He looked suddenly angry. "Because I think you're right. I think it's time for a little honesty between us. You no longer want to play the damsel in distress? Well, maybe I'm a little tired of playing the stoic hero."
He turned then and left the room, and Kaitlin could do nothing but stare at the closed door in astonishment. Why had they not had this discussion weeks ago, months ago, years ago? Why now, when it just might be too late? Now, when they'd drifted so far apart, Kaitlin wasn't sure they could ever find their way back to each other?
She wanted to go to him and try to make things right, but she knew that would be a mistake. She couldn't afford to rush into anything. She didn't want to act on an impulse that she might end up regretting tomorrow. Words were easy. Living by them was harder.
When the phone rang a third time, she turned to stare at it, but she didn't answer. Somehow, she knew that if she lifted that phone to her ear, if she let the dark-haired stranger into her life, even from a distance, it could be the final blow that severed her relationship with Dylan.
But Kaitlin couldn't seem to stop herself. She reached out and slowly lifted the receiver to her ear.
There was nothing but silence at first.
Then, after a moment, that velvety voice said in a near whisper, "You must be Kaitlin."
She gasped. "How did "
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to freak you out, but Jane told me you were coming to stay in her apartment while she's in Europe."
A shiver ran up Kaitlin's spine. He not only knew where she lived, but he knew who she was. So much for anonymity.
Hang up! a little voice commanded.
Instead she gripped the phone tighter. "You have me at a disadvantage," she said a bit breathlessly. "You know who I am, but I don't know who you are."
"Yes, you do."
Her gaze flew to the telescope. Did he know she'd been watching him?
"We've met before," he said.
"That's impossible. If we'd met before, I'm sure I would have remembered you."
"How do you know?"
"Because I " Kaitlin's gaze was still on the telescope, and she closed her eyes, realizing she'd almost given herself away. "You have a very distinctive voice. I don't think I would have forgotten it."
And suddenly something Dylan had said earlier came back to her. "In fact, whoever that guy was, he's probably fantasizing right now about having phone sex with you."
Now she understood perfectly what he'd meant by that. The stranger's voice was doing odd things to her insides.
She felt herself blush in the darkness. "I should go "
"No, wait. Don't hang up." The teasing quality left his voice as desperation crept in. "I know this may sound a little strange, but do you think...would it be possible for us to...just keep on talking for a little while? I'm finding myself a bit on edge tonight."
Kaitlin imagined him in his apartment, pacing back and forth, dragging a hand through his dark, glossy hair....
"You have to stop me. I'm afraid of what I might do "
And then she thought about all those long nights she'd waited on dinner for Dylan, only to find herself eating alone in front of the television set. She thought about all the anniversary and birthday plans they'd had to cancel because of an important case, all the vacations that had been put on hold because of a trial date. All the family celebrations she'd missed because she'd married an O'Roarke.
Kaitlin knew about being on edge, that breathless, panicky feeling of having the walls close in on you. She knew about desperation and loneliness and needing to reach out to someone for a little understanding even if that someone was a stranger.
"Are you still there?" he asked softly.
"Yes."
"Shall I tell you why I'm on edge tonight?"
"Only if you tell me first where we've met before."
"I don't think I can do that, Kaitlin."
"Why not?"
He gave a low, masculine laugh. "Because I need to keep you guessing for a while. It'll make things so much more interesting later on."
A cold chill coursed through Kaitlin as she suddenly realized she might be playing with fire. "I'm really not in the mood for games," she said. "So if you're not going to tell me who you are or where we've met, I'm hanging up."
"I saw you with Jane a few weeks ago," he said, "At a restaurant on Michigan Avenue. I was meeting her there for dinner, and when I came in, I saw you two talking in the bar. But you left before I made it through the crowd, so I confess, we haven't really met. But Jane told me so much about you that I feel as if I know you."
Kaitlin knew the night he meant. She'd run into Jane, an old college friend, by accident at the restaurant, and the two of them had gotten to talking while they waited for their dinner partners. Jane had mentioned that she was going to Europe for several weeks and was looking for someone to apartment-sit for her. And before Kaitlin had quite known what she was doing, she'd volunteered. The separation had been building for months, but Dylan standing her up yet again that night had been the catalyst for her leaving.
She remembered what Dylan had said to her earlier. "Then what were you hoping to accomplish? Did you want me to come running after you? Beg you to come back to me? Promise to give up my career if it would make you happy?"
In all honesty, a part of her might have been hoping for all of those things. A part of her might have been hoping to shake him up enough that he would reevaluate his priorities. But another part of her had realized that she'd simply reached the end of her rope.
"So how do you like the apartment?" the stranger asked her.
Was that amusement in his voice? Kaitlin wondered. Had he been in Jane's apartment before? In her bedroom? Just exactly what was their relationship? "It's very comfortable," Kaitlin said.
"What do you think of the view?"
Her gaze went back to the telescope. "It's different from what I'm used to," she murmured. Then realizing the implication, she added quickly, "The city takes a little getting used to."
"Not as quiet as the suburbs, is it?"
How did he know she lived in the suburbs?
"...Jane told me so much about you that I feel as if I know you."
Kaitlin couldn't believe she'd let the conversation go on for as long as it had. "I really need to be going," she said. "I have...someone here."
"Your husband?"
Gooseflesh prickled along the back her neck. How had he known that?
Okay, enough. Kaitlin put her finger on the off button, but before she could disconnect, that silken voice said in her ear, "Do you know what it's like to feel as if the walls are closing in on you, Kaitlin? To feel as if there is no one in the world who can understand what you're going through? To have people look at you and think, what a fortunate person she is. She has everything anyone could possibly want. A beautiful home. A loving husband. No good reason for her to be so unhappy. And yet...they can't see inside you, can they? They can't know what's going on in your mind and in your heart and in your soul. Do you know that feeling, Kaitlin?"
Her hand tightened on the phone. Yes, she knew that feeling. But how had he known?
"We're like kindred spirits, Kaitlin. Soul mates. That's why I understand you so well."
The chill inside her deepened. "You don't even know me," she whispered.
"I know you like to watch."
Kaitlin shivered at the stranger's tone, at his words. At his insight. And then she looked up to find Dylan watching her from the doorway.
She had no idea how long he'd been there or how much he'd overheard. But all he said was, "The pizza's here. Shall I bring you in a tray?"
"We're like kindred spirits, Kaitlin. Soul mates. That's why I understand you so well . I know you like to watch."
She shoved back her hair with a trembling hand. "Could you just put it in the oven? I'm really not hungry right now."
Dylan came slowly into the room, his gaze never leaving hers. "Is anything wrong?"
"No. Why?"
"I don't know. I get the impression whoever was on the phone just now upset you."
"It was just someone calling for Jane," she lied.
"Same guy as before?"
"I think so."
"Kaitlin, if he's harassing you, you need to tell me about it."
"Why?" she lashed out. "What could you do about it except turn off the phone? I'm perfectly capable of doing that on my own. And besides, I thought you were tired of playing the stoic hero."
"Then someone is harassing you."
"No! Look, I'm just tired, okay? There's nothing wrong. No one's harassing me. I'm fine."
"You're sure?"
"Yes! Dylan, you have to stop doing this."
"Stop what?" he asked angrily. "Stop caring about you?"
"Stop fussing over me. Stop worrying about me. Stop "
"Being your husband?"
"Stop putting words in my mouth, okay?"
"Has it really come to this, Kaitlin? Can we not even have a civil conversation without you getting all defensive?"
"Me? I'm not the one who " Kaitlin stopped herself short.
Dylan's gaze narrowed. "What were you about to say, Kaitlin?"
She closed her eyes briefly. "Nothing."
"Something is obviously on your mind. Why won't you tell me what it is?"
"When have we ever been able to communicate?" she asked bitterly.
"Are you blaming me for that, too?"
She drew a long breath. "We're both to blame. We've let something precious slip away from us, Dylan. We've let too many things come between us. Your work. My family. Sometimes it just seems like nothing we can do will ever make it right again."
He frowned down at her. "You've never been a defeatist before."
"I don't think I've ever felt this tired before."
A shadow flickered in his eyes, an emotion Kaitlin couldn't quite define. "They've finally gotten to you, haven't they?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Your family. They've worn you down. They've finally accomplished what they've been after for the past seven years."
"What are you talking about, Dylan?"
His features hardened. "They've turned you against me. They've made me a villain in your eyes."
"That's not true."
One brow lifted. "No? Not even when those two thugs broke into our house last year? Not even when your father did his best to convince the investigating officer that the perpetrators were somehow connected to my family? Not when he stood in my own living room and tried his damnedest to persuade you that you would never be safe as long as you were married to me? Are you telling me none of that had an effect on you, Kaitlin? None of that had anything to do with your decision to move out?"
"Of course it didn't."
"Are you sure? Because you were jumpy for weeks after the break-in. And I would see a certain look on your face at times when you didn't know I was watching you. I saw the doubt in your eyes."
"That was your imagination," she said softly.
"Was it? I don't think so. But you know what hurt me the most, Kaitlin? It wasn't just having your father imply that I was responsible for putting your life in danger. It was his accusation that I couldn't protect you. And he was right." His hands balled into fists at his side. "But if I'd caught those creeps that night, I swear I would have killed them with my bare hands."
Kaitlin had never heard him talk that way before. She had the oddest feeling that she was no longer listening to her husband but to a stranger. A man capable of violence. And as he turned to face her, she caught her breath. In the dim light from the window, he no longer even looked like her husband.
Dylan frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because of what you just said..." Kaitlin put a hand to her throat. "It didn't sound like you at all."
"What do you mean?"
"You still seem so angry. The break-in was months ago."
His scowl deepened. "I'm not allowed to still be upset that a couple of street punks broke into our home and scared you half to death?"
She shook her head, her gaze still on him. "It was the way you said it. Like you meant it. Like you really could have killed them. I don't think I've ever heard you talk that way before, Dylan. You're always so in control. It's like...you're a different person suddenly."
"That's ridiculous. I'm the same man I've always been." But in the dim light, he didn't look the same at all. He'd removed his jacket and tie, and his shirt was open at the neck, his cuffs rolled back. Even his hair was slightly mussed, as if he'd been running his fingers through it in agitation.
This was a Dylan she'd never seen before. A complex, driven man with deep emotions and dark secrets. A man who might very well fantasize about having phone sex with her. Who might even be willing to kill in order to protect her...
"Sometimes I wonder if I ever really knew you at all," she murmured.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You try so hard not to be an O'Roarke. Sometimes I wonder if you even know who you are."
He sighed. "I have no idea what you're talking about. But I guess that's part of the problem, isn't it?"
He turned back to the windows, staring into the night with a brooding frown.
"Can I ask you something, Dylan?"
He shrugged. "Go ahead."
She bit her lip. "What first attracted you to me?"
He gazed over his shoulder in disbelief. "Are you kidding? You see yourself in the mirror every day."
She felt a tingle of pleasure at his words. "I'm not talking about physical attraction. I mean, what made you fall in love with me? What made you want to marry me so quickly? We eloped after we'd known each other for only a few weeks. What made you decide I was the one?"
He gave her a long scrutiny. "What is it you're really asking, Kaitlin?"
"Was the fact that I'm a Gallagher part of the attraction?"
"Meaning?"
"Come on, Dylan. My family has been out to get yours for years. My father was one of the cops who helped send your cousin Daniel to prison for a murder he didn't commit. He and my uncle even suppressed evidence in that case."
Dylan's features tightened. "The evidence they suppressed wouldn't have cleared Daniel."
"No. But it could have made my own brother a suspect," Kaitlin said. "When the truth came out, my father got little more than a reprimand for what he'd done, while your cousin sat on death row for years. Can you honestly say that a part of you, maybe a very small part, but a part of you, nonetheless, didn't marry me out of revenge? You had to know what it would do to my father."
He walked slowly toward the bed, his eyes glittering angrily in the darkness. "If you believe that of me, then you're right. You never knew me at all."
Anger still gleamed in Dylan's eyes, but there was something else there, too. A terrible hurt that he'd buried so deep Kaitlin hadn't been able to see it until now.
And suddenly she realized what their marriage had cost him. All those years of knowing that no matter what he did, what he accomplished, he would never measure up. He would never be trusted, and for one simple reason. Because of his name.
After the break-in at their home, her father had made some terrible accusations. Kaitlin knew that a lot of it had been a result of his fear and frustration. He was a cop, but he hadn't been able to protect his own daughter. He'd had to lash out at someone, and the animosity between the Gallaghers and the O'Roarkes had made Dylan an easy target.
It had been a difficult, emotional time for all of them. Things had been said that could never be taken back, hurtful allegations that had only widened the gulf between Kaitlin and her father. And between her and Dylan because neither of them had been able to talk about their feelings. To express to each other their own fears and frustrations.
She gazed up at him now with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything my father said to you that night. For the way he's treated you all these years."
Dylan sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hands in his. "I can handle your father, Kaitlin, as long as you know that I would never intentionally put you in danger."
"I do know that."
He squeezed her hands. "I've done some things I'm not proud of. And God knows my family hasn't been innocent of every crime they've been accused of. But I'd sooner take my own life than cause you pain."
A tear spilled over as she nodded. "I know that, too."
"And as for why I was attracted to you...why I'm still attracted to you..." He lifted a hand and gently wiped away her tears. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known. And I'm not just talking about physically, although you do take my breath away. You're beautiful inside, too, Kaitlin, and that was something I'd never known before. The moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew there could never be anyone else for me."
Kaitlin drew a quivering breath. "Why have you never told me that before? You don't know how badly I've wanted to hear you say that to me."
He shrugged helplessly. "I guess I'm not that great at expressing my feelings."
"But if you'd just come to me..." Kaitlin trailed off. The time for placing blame had long since past. Especially considering that they were both guilty of keeping their true feelings suppressed. "Sometimes I wonder if the difficulties in a Gallagher and O'Roarke union are just too great to overcome."
"Do you really believe that?"
"I never used to. But the animosity from our families, especially from mine, has put a terrible strain on our relationship. I've always thought that was the main reason you've thrown yourself into your work the way you have. You've tried so hard to live down your family's reputation, to prove to my father that you aren't just another O'Roarke "
"You think I did that for him?" he asked with sudden anger. "I've never given a damn what your father or anyone else thinks about me. The only opinion I've ever cared about is yours."
Kaitlin closed her eyes as a wave of emotion swept over her. She thought about what she'd told Fiona earlier. "...we were married for seven years. We still care about each other. We just don't love each other anymore."
How could she ever have believed that? How could she ever have considered for even a moment that her love for Dylan had somehow faded away?
Because at that moment, she'd never loved him more.
Dylan gazed at her so tenderly, a painful lump rose in Kaitlin's throat. She put a hand to his face and gently stroked the masculine roughness of his beard.
He turned his head and kissed her palm. "I've missed you so much," he whispered raggedly. "I've missed being with you. Holding you..."
Kaitlin's breath quickened at the look in his eyes.
In those blue depths, she could see the intimate secrets that they'd shared and the darker, more erotic mysteries that were still to come.
She cupped her hand around his neck, drawing him to her, kissing him in a way that had him groaning against her mouth, that had both their hearts pounding when they finally broke apart.
She ran her fingers through his hair. "We haven't kissed that way in years."
"I'm not sure we've ever kissed that way." He seemed almost in awe of her as his gaze darkened.
And then they were kissing again. Long, deep, soul-shattering kisses that made Kaitlin's heart flail against her chest like a trapped bird. That made every nerve ending in her body dance with fiery anticipation.
She wanted Dylan as she'd never wanted him before.
She couldn't figure out what was so different about him...about her...but something had changed between them.
For one thing, her inhibitions were gone. Even after seven years of marriage, Kaitlin had still been a bit reserved in bed. Had still waited for Dylan to take the lead.
But no more.
In this apartment, away from their past, away from their family, away from all the hurt and disappointments and disillusionment, Kaitlin somehow felt free. Liberated.
She quickly unfastened the buttons on Dylan's shirt and then shoved it down his arms. Shrugging out of the sleeves, he flung the garment aside, and then he was over her in a flash, bending to kiss her again. When she fumbled with the zipper of his pants, he put his hand over hers, helping her ease it open.
Slowly, she slid down in bed, kissing his chest, his stomach, ringing his belly button with her tongue before sliding even lower....
Dylan gasped. "Kaitlin..."
She kissed him again and again, touched him so intimately she knew he was about to lose control.
She worked her way back up to his lips, and when they broke apart again, he stared down at her for the longest moment, trying to catch his breath. "What are you trying to do to me?"
Her laugh was a soft, throaty sound that seemed to arouse him even more.
He glanced toward the windows. "Maybe there's something to be said for all this anonymity after all."
"Do you suppose anyone can see us?" she whispered.
"The lights are out. I don't think so." He paused for a moment, his voice almost painfully hesitant. "Do you think we should stop?"
She didn't answer, but instead began to unbutton her pajama top. When he tried to help, she pushed him away. "No," she murmured. "Just watch."
And he did. He lay on his side, propped on his elbow as she rose to her knees and slid her top slowly down her shoulders. The bottoms came next and, because of her cast, less gracefully, but Dylan didn't seem to mind. His gaze on her was dark and hungry. "I've never seen you like this," he said reverently.
"Really? Because you haven't seen anything yet." Slowly, Kaitlin looked up at the mirror.
Dylan glanced up, too, and even though it was dark in the room, she could see his reflection. She knew that he was watching her, watching them both, as she moved over him. With his hands on her hips, he guided her exactly where she needed to be, and then with her head thrown back, she watched them, too.
Keeping her cast dry while they showered was a bit tricky. Kaitlin wouldn't have been able to manage without Dylan. He'd been helpful in so many ways, she thought with a knowing smile as she watched him dress.
He glanced up as he finished buttoning his shirt. "Are you sure you don't want me to spend the night?"
Kaitlin wanted him to stay more than anything, but she didn't think it would be a good idea. It would be too easy to pretend all their problems had just magically disappeared after a night of great sex, but she knew from experience that come morning, very little would have changed. It some ways, sex only complicated the issues.
"We've got a long way to go before we're okay again, Dylan. I think right now we could both use a little distance. Some time to think. It would be too easy to fall back into our old pattern, and I don't want that."
"I don't want it, either." But he frowned as he sat down on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. "I just don't like the idea of leaving you here alone."
"I've been here by myself for almost a week," she pointed out.
"I know, but you didn't have a broken foot until this morning," Dylan said.
"I have my crutches. There's a pizza in the warming drawer. A Hitchcock movie in the VCR. I'll be fine."
"Sounds nice and cozy," he said wistfully. "And here I have to drive all the way home, catch a few hours' sleep and then drive right back here first thing in the morning " He broke off at the look on her face. "What's the matter? What'd I say?"
She was gazing out the window. "Nothing. It's just...I guess I was thinking about how big our house is. How empty it seems sometimes."
"Do you know what it's like to feel as if the walls are closing in on you, Kaitlin?"
She shivered as the stranger's words came back to her.
Dylan reached over and took her hand. "Don't."
Kaitlin glanced at him. "Don't what?"
"Don't look that way. As if you already have regrets."
She squeezed his hand. "I don't." And she didn't. Not really. What she and Dylan had shared earlier had been...amazing. For a few moments at least, they'd never been closer, and Kaitlin suspected that was because, for the first time, they'd completely let down their guards. They'd been so open and trusting with one another that it was almost hard to imagine how far apart they'd drifted.
But one night wasn't going to bridge that gap, no matter how much they both might wish it to be otherwise.
Dylan finished putting on his shoes, then leaned over to kiss her. "We'll do it your way, okay? Maybe you're right. Maybe some time apart is exactly what we need to put things in perspective. I know it's made me do a lot of soul-searching about my priorities."
"Me, too."
He smiled down at her. "But I still hate leaving you alone. Will you call me if you need anything?"
"Will you stop worrying about me?" she asked in exasperation.
"Yes." He bent to kiss her again. "The very moment I draw my last breath."
After Dylan had gone, Kaitlin found his cell phone on the dining room table, where he'd been working earlier, and she wondered if he'd left it there on purpose, to have a reason to come back. Such an obvious ploy didn't seem at all his style, but then, as she'd learned tonight, there were facets intriguing facets to her husband's personality that she'd yet to discover.
After making several trips to and from the kitchen, Kaitlin finally had everything in place and then, swallowing her medication, she settled back against the pillows to eat her pizza and watch her favorite Hitchcock film.
But the opening credits had barely begun to roll when the phone rang. Freezing the frame, Kaitlin reached for the phone, wondering if Dylan had stopped somewhere on the road to call her. She knew he hadn't had time to make it all the way home.
"Hello?"
There was silence at first and then that dark, silky voice whispered, "She has to die, Kaitlin."
Icy fear shot through Kaitlin's veins as the phone went dead in her ear.
"She has to die, Kaitlin."
Who? she thought frantically. Who had to die? The woman he'd left the message about earlier? What had he said about her?
"...when I think about her with him, it kills me inside . You have to stop me. I'm afraid of what I might do "
Okay, maybe he was just being overly dramatic, Kaitlin tried to reason. Or maybe she'd even misunderstood him. Maybe the painkiller she'd taken right before he called was already having an effect on her. The medication could be impairing her senses, making her hear things that hadn't really been said. Making her imagine things...
She did feel a bit strange, Kaitlin realized. Her stomach was queasy, too.
But what if it wasn't her imagination? Or the drugs? What if that man really was planning to kill someone?
Shivering uncontrollably, Kaitlin turned her head to stare out the window. Was he out there in the darkness? Was he watching her?
"She has to die, Kaitlin."
What should she do?
Call the police?
And tell them what exactly? Kaitlin didn't even know who he was. The caller ID hadn't displayed his name or his number, which probably meant he was unlisted. Or he'd been calling from a cell phone. And she couldn't even be sure the apartment across the way belonged to him.
Besides, he hadn't actually threatened anyone. Kaitlin was a cop's daughter. A cop's sister. She knew better than anyone the legal limitations in situations like this. There was nothing the police could do until he made an overt threat, and sometimes not even then. Sometimes they were powerless to act...until it was too late.
Her heart pounding, Kaitlin struggled to her feet and reached for her crutches. A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she waited for the room to stop spinning before she maneuvered over to the telescope. She bent to stare through the eyepiece, but the apartment across the street was pitch-black. She couldn't see anything.
She watched for several more minutes, then lifted her gaze from the telescope to stare out into the night.
So many lights...so many windows...so many invisible eyes watching from darkened apartments...
Her thoughts were drifting toward paranoia, she realized, and when the phone behind her started to ring, she whipped around but made no move to answer it. She let the machine pick up, hoping again that it might be Dylan.
"Kaitlin," that silky voice whispered. "I know you're there. I can see you."
The hair at the back of her neck lifted as she glanced around the room. The lights were off. There was no way he could see her. He was just trying to get under her skin. He was one of those sickos who got off calling strangers.
Fighting off a wave of vertigo, Kaitlin bent to the eyepiece and shifted the tube. His apartment was still dark, too. She couldn't see anything.
"Kaitlin." His voice was a singsong on the answering machine. "Pick up. I need to talk to you. We're kindred spirits, remember? Soul mates. No one understands me the way you do. No one ever will."
This had gone beyond creepy, Kaitlin thought with a shiver. This was downright scary. Terrifying...
"Pick up the phone, Kaitlin. Let me tell you how I'm going to do it."
A wave of nausea rose so strong in Kaitlin's throat that she barely made it to the bathroom before she became violently ill. She sank to the floor, hugging the sides of the toilet.
But even after the nausea subsided, her heart continued to race, and the vertigo kept her on the floor. Leaning back against the tub, she pulled up her knees and buried her face in her arms.
She kept telling herself that the voice on the phone was just playing with her. A cat and mouse game designed to terrify her. There were people like that. The world was full of sickos.
But what if he meant it? What if he really planned to kill someone?
And why was he telling Kaitlin about it...unless he wanted her to somehow stop him?
"You have to stop me. I'm afraid of what I might do "
Was that it? Were the phone calls a cry for help? First to Jane, and now to her?
Kaitlin had no idea how long she sat there before she was finally able to lift her head without the dizziness. She glanced at her watch. Dylan hadn't had time to make it home yet, and she couldn't call him in the car since he'd left his cell phone. All she could do was leave a message on the recorder at home.
Balancing herself with her crutches, she struggled up from the bathroom floor. And as she hobbled back into the bedroom, the phone started to ring. She hesitated, then picked it up, hoping that it was Dylan.
"She's coming over tomorrow night. I'm going to do it then."
Kaitlin gripped the phone. "Who are you?" she asked in desperation. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want you to watch, Kaitlin."
She put a hand to her mouth as nausea rose inside her again. "Watch what?"
He laughed softly. "I thought it would be Jane, but since she's gone, it has to be you."
Kaitlin's heart was pounding so hard she could barely breathe. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?"
She closed her eyes. "Who is she?"
"It doesn't matter who she is. What matters is that she betrayed me...just like all the others."
The hatred in his voice sent another spasm of fear down Kaitlin's backbone. How had she ever thought his voice seductive?
She drew a deep breath, trying to rein in her terror. "If you want me to watch, you have to tell me who she is."
"Why? So you can warn her? So you can call the police? It won't do you any good. They won't believe you. It'll be just like in that movie. You know the one I mean. Rear Window. The police didn't believe Jimmy Stewart, either, remember?"
Kaitlin spun toward the VCR, where a little while ago she'd put in the very movie he was talking about. But he couldn't know that. There was no way he could know that....
Unless he was watching her...
When the phone had rung earlier, Kaitlin had frozen the frame rather than stopping the movie. It should have started playing again by now. But the TV screen was dark. Someone had turned it off.
He'd been in the apartment while she'd been in the bathroom.
He might still be inside, calling from a cell phone....
A scream rose in Kaitlin's throat, but she tried to swallow it back. She had to keep calm while she figured out what to do.
"Tell me something, Kaitlin. Have you taken your medicine tonight?"
The phone went dead, and Kaitlin dropped her gaze to the nightstand where she'd left her bottles of medication. She'd taken a painkiller and an antibiotic tablet earlier, right after Dylan left. And a little while later, she'd started to feel dizzy, then nauseous.
Oh, my God....
Had he tampered with her medicine?
Kaitlin grabbed up the painkillers, but her hands were shaking so badly, she couldn't work the childproof top. When the lid finally came off, the pills went flying. She watched as they scattered across the nightstand and some of them rolled onto the floor.
Were they the same? She couldn't tell
A noise outside the bedroom drew her gaze to the door. As quietly as she could, she picked up the cordless phone and carried it with her into the bathroom. She locked the door and, with shaking hands, dialed 911.
"No sign of a forced entry and nothing appears to be missing." Detective Doggett shrugged as he gazed around the bedroom. The two patrol officers who'd arrived on the scene first were still searching the rest of the apartment. "Not much to go on, I'm afraid."
"But I'm telling you he was in this apartment," Kaitlin said desperately. "He tampered with my medication. Put something in one of the bottles that made me sick."
Doggett walked over to examine the pills scattered across the nightstand. Then he read the label on the bottles. "Demerol," he muttered. "Some pretty strong stuff. Might make you imagine all sorts of things."
"I didn't imagine anything."
"So let me see if I understand you correctly then. You think he came into the apartment on two separate occasions tonight. He switched the pills while you were in the shower. Then he came back a second time while you were sick in the bathroom and turned off the TV."
"And probably switched the pills back. Look, I know how all this sounds." Kaitlin tried to suppress the quiver in her voice. "But I'm telling you the truth. You have to believe me. He plans to kill someone tomorrow tonight."
"And he wants you to watch." Doggett walked over to the telescope. "You watch him often, do you?"
She gasped. "I don't watch him. I only saw him once."
Doggett turned his laserlike gaze on her. "And then he started calling you. Telling you he plans to kill someone tomorrow night. A woman."
"Yes."
"But you don't know who this guy is or the name of his intended victim. You don't know what she looks like so you can't give us a description. You're not even sure the guy on the phone is the same guy you saw in the apartment across the street. Does that about sum it up?"
"You're not going to do anything about this, are you?"
"There's not a lot we can do, I'm afraid "
"Kaitlin!" Dylan suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Are you okay? What happened? My God, when I saw the police cars outside "
"What are you doing here?" Kaitlin asked in shock.
"I left my phone and decided I'd better come back for it." He glanced up at Doggett. "What's going on here?"
"Maybe you'd better tell me who you are first."
"Dylan O'Roarke. I'm Kaitlin's husband."
Doggett's brows lifted slightly. "The attorney? Your reputation precedes you." The two shook hands. "Could I have a word with you outside?"
Dylan turned back to Kaitlin. "I'll be right back, okay?"
When he came back a few minutes later, Kaitlin asked anxiously, "What did he say to you?"
"Come and sit down. You need to get off that foot." Dylan pulled her down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Kaitlin, why didn't you tell me about these phone calls? I asked you earlier if someone was harassing you. You denied it."
"He wasn't harassing me then. We were just talking "
"You've been carrying on phone conversations with a complete stranger," he said incredulously. "And Doggett said you've been watching this guy through the telescope."
"For God's sake, don't look at me like that, Dylan. I'm not some weirdo."
"But you've been acting differently ever since you moved into this apartment," he accused.
"He said the police wouldn't believe me," she whispered. "But I never thought you'd turn on me."
"Turn on you? What are you talking about, Kaitlin? I'm just trying to figure out what the hell is going on here."
"You think I'm crazy. You think I imagined all this."
"Just calm down "
But Kaitlin was becoming more worked up by the moment. More frantic. She knew she sounded crazy, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "A woman is going to be murdered tomorrow night, and no one believes me. No one is going to help me stop him."
Dylan sat back and stared at her for a moment. Stared at her as if she were a stranger to him. Then he saw the pills scattered across the nightstand, and reached over to pick one up. After a moment, he said, "How many of these did you take tonight, Kaitlin?"
"Kaitlin? Are you awake?"
She tried to open her eyes, but the effort was too great. She sank back into sleep.
"Kaitlin! Come on now. Rise and shine."
The voice was annoyingly persistent. When Kaitlin finally managed to open her eyes, the sunlight streaming in through the windows was so bright, she had to squint.
Someone was standing over her bed. "Honey, are you okay?"
As her visitor's red hair and vivid blue eyes slowly came into focus, Kaitlin stared up in confusion. "Fiona? What are you doing here?"
"Dylan had to be in court first thing this morning so he asked me to come by and check on you." Kaitlin pushed herself up on her elbows. "How'd you get in?"
"Well, when you didn't answer my knock, I was all prepared to use my womanly wiles on the super. Or offer him a bribe. Whichever worked. But then I found this." Fiona held up a key. "Not too smart of your friend to leave this over the door."
Kaitlin stared at the key as realization hit her. That's how he'd gotten in last night. He'd known about Jane's spare key.
"Kaitlin, what's wrong? You look as if you've seen a ghost."
She shook her head. "Nothing. What time is it?"
"Just after nine. How about some coffee?"
"I want to get dressed first." Kaitlin swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for her crutches.
"Aren't you supposed to keep that foot elevated?"
"If I don't get out of this room, I'll go stir-crazy," Kaitlin grumbled.
"Okay. I hear you," Fiona said. "But if Dylan says anything, this was your idea. You know how he feels about me."
"Same way you feel about him," Kaitlin muttered.
"Well, he is an "
"O'Roarke," Kaitlin said with a sigh.
"I was going to say asshole in the courtroom, but yeah," Fiona agreed. She rummaged in the closet, then tossed Kaitlin a pair of black pants. "I think these are stretchy enough to fit over your cast."
Kaitlin grabbed a sweater, underwear and socks and headed for the bathroom. By the time she'd washed up, brushed her teeth and struggled into her clothes, she felt as if she'd put in a full day's work. Exhausted, she came back into the bedroom to find Fiona peering through the telescope.
"What did Dylan tell you when he called this morning?" Kaitlin asked.
Fiona looked up from the eyepiece. "Only that you'd had a rough night. I assumed he meant you were in pain. But I'm getting the feeling now that something other than your foot was bothering you."
Kaitlin glanced out the window. "See that apartment directly across from this one?"
Fiona frowned. "Yeah. What about it?"
"What if I told you that the man who lives there plans to kill someone tonight if I don't find a way to stop him?"
Fiona glanced uneasily over her shoulder. "Tell me again why we thought this was a good idea."
"Because we saw him leave the building carrying a briefcase," Kaitlin said. "He got into a cab. He'll probably be gone for hours. This may be our only chance." Getting inside the building across the street had been almost too easy. A man had been coming out, and he hadn't thought twice about holding the door for a tall, good-looking redhead and a blonde on crutches.
Kaitlin counted the doors. "This is it," she said with a shiver. "This is his apartment."
Fiona shivered, too. "Okay. We'll knock on a few of his neighbors' doors and see if we can find out who this guy is. And while we're at it, maybe we can learn the name of the chick he plans to off tonight."
Kaitlin shot her a look. "I know you're just humoring me, but I appreciate your coming with me anyway."
Fiona gave her a wry smile. "Who better to track down a psychopath than me, right?"
But their plan didn't work out as they'd hoped. Only two people answered their doors, and neither of them was very helpful. One even threatened to call the police.
"Obviously, we need to regroup here." Fiona glanced at her watch. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting.... Kaitlin, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Kaitlin lifted one of her crutches and ran it across the top of the doorframe. When a key fell to the carpet, they both stood staring at it for a long, tense moment.
"We can be in and out in five minutes," Kaitlin said. "He's bound to have an address book or a photo. Something that will tell us who this woman is."
"I can't go breaking into a man's apartment," Fiona said as she inserted the key into the lock. "I'm an officer of the court. Sworn to uphold the law." The door swung open. "Oh, dear. Look what happened."
She stepped into the entryway, then stopped so abruptly, Kaitlin bumped into her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's just... creepy being inside his apartment. Especially if this guy is as big a whack job as you seem to think." Fiona glanced around. "Shall we start in here?"
Fiona was right, Kaitlin thought with a shudder. There was something creepy about the place. Something...evil.
The hair rose on the back of her neck as she thought about the stranger pacing back and forth, in this very room, contemplating murder.
How had she ever thought him sensuous and sexy?
How had she ever compared him to Dylan?
"Kaitlin." Fiona touched her arm. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I guess I'm just getting a little freaked out myself." She tried to shake off her uneasiness. "You search in here, and I'll take the bedroom."
"Okay, but make it quick. We have about three minutes by my watch."
Kaitlin headed down the narrow hallway. The layout was similar to Jane's apartment, so she assumed the door at the end of the hallway was the bedroom. She entered slowly and turned on a light.
It was some kind of study, all sleek and masculine with wood paneling and leather upholstery. Kaitlin started toward the desk, but the telescope at the window drew her gaze. She limped over and bent to the eyepiece.
The lens was focused on her bedroom window as she'd somehow known it would be. He'd probably been watching her for days.
"...Jane told me so much about you that I feel as if I know you . We're like kindred spirits, Kaitlin. Soul mates. That's why I understand you so well . I know you like to watch."
Abruptly, she pulled away from the telescope and turned back to the door. And that's when she heard it.
A whimper.
A soft, terrified cry.
It was coming from somewhere nearby, but Kaitlin couldn't quite pinpoint the sound. She maneuvered over to the door and called down the hallway to Fiona.
"Hold on a sec," Fiona called back. "I may have found something."
"Me, too," Kaitlin muttered as she listened for the sound again.
She was beginning to think it had been her imagination, her nerves playing tricks on her, when she heard it again.
It was coming from inside the wall.
She pressed her ear to the paneling and called softly, "Is anyone there?"
The whimper grew louder, more desperate. For a moment, Kaitlin thought it was a kitten that had somehow gotten trapped in the wall.
And then she realized that a door had been so cunningly placed in the paneling as to be all but invisible. She ran her hands over the surface, searching for a latch or a catch
There! She felt it!
She pressed the tiny button, and the door sprang back so abruptly she almost fell trying to get out of the way.
Regaining her balance, she stepped up to the opening and glanced inside. She could see nothing but darkness at first. There were no windows, and when she felt along the wall, no light switch.
Kaitlin knew she should wait for Fiona. But the whimpering was so loud now she couldn't ignore it. She limped inside, and as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she saw a woman lying on a narrow bed. She was bound and gagged, and as Kaitlin moved toward her, the woman's gaze rounded with terror. Her whimpers became even more frantic.
"So," a dark voice said behind Kaitlin. "You came to watch in person."
Kaitlin spun.
"Don't bother calling for your friend," he said. "She can't hear you."
Fiona. Oh, God, Fiona...
He grabbed Kaitlin then and dragged her back into the study. He shoved her roughly to the floor, and Kaitlin screamed in agony when she fell on her injured foot.
She gazed up at him in terror. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because it's so much more fun with an audience, Kaitlin. I learned that a long time ago."
As he started toward her, Kaitlin grabbed one of her crutches and swung it with all her might, striking him at his knees. He went down hard, howling in pain.
She scrambled toward the door, but he grabbed her cast and dragged her back. Kaitlin screamed, in pain and terror, as he rolled her over, pinning her arms at her sides with his knees.
She saw then that he had a knife. His eyes gleamed with madness as he lifted it over her chest.
The first bullet caught him dead center in the forehead. The second in the heart. He fell to the floor without a sound.
Kaitlin turned and saw Dylan in the doorway. Slowly, he lowered the gun.
As they walked out of police headquarters and stepped into the sunshine, Kaitlin drew a long breath. Dylan was beside her, holding on to her arm to help her down the steps. She paused at the bottom and glanced up at him.
"Have you heard from the hospital?"
He nodded. "Fiona's going to be fine. She has a mild concussion, and your aunt Maggie said she'll probably be released within twenty-four hours."
"And the other woman?"
"Physically, she'll be okay, too, but emotionally " he broke off. "Who knows?"
Kaitlin shuddered. Emotionally, it would take them all some time to get over this.
"Why do you think he targeted me, Dylan?"
He shrugged. "Who can really understand the motivations of a psychopath? I think he had probably been stalking Jane for months, and then when she left and you showed up, he simply improvised."
"He knew so much about me," she whispered.
"That's how they lure you in. It's a form of seduction. A game. Playing with the victim is half the pleasure. I have a feeling before this investigation is over, the police will find a string of dead women." Dylan closed his eyes briefly. "God, Kaitlin, when I think about what could have happened to you "
"But it didn't happen," she said softly. "Because you believed me."
His blue eyes glittered with anguish. "I should have believed you from the first. I should have been with you instead of Fiona."
"You were there when it counted the most," she said. "You've always been there when it counted the most."
"If that were true, you never would have left me," he said grimly.
"We've both made mistakes, Dylan. We're both to blame for what happened to our marriage."
He gazed off into the distance for a moment. "Do you believe in second chances, Kaitlin?"
"After what I've just been through, I believe passionately in second chances." She lifted her hand to his face. "But it won't be easy, Dylan. Let's not kid ourselves."
"I know that. But if I've learned anything from your leaving, it's that all the success and partnerships and corner offices in the world don't mean a thing without you. I've loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you."
"I love you, too, Dylan." Sometimes it left her breathless how much she loved him.
He bent and kissed her again, kissed her so deeply that Kaitlin almost lost her balance and he had to catch her. They both laughed, and then he kissed her again.
When he pulled away, Kaitlin said, "Can I ask you something, Dylan?"
"Anything."
"Where did you get the gun? Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
"I'm an O'Roarke, Kaitlin. Do you really want answers to those questions?"
She smiled ruefully. "No. Maybe not."
"What do you want, Kaitlin?" he asked softly.
"You," she whispered. "I want you."
Now, and for always, she thought.
The End