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“That he loved you?” Nathan’s gaze mocked her. “Get over yourself. Not everyone in this stupid town thinks you’re so wonderful. If you knew what that little weirdo was really up to—” Nathan broke off and glanced away.
Dani’s fingers dug into his shirt. “What did you mean by that?”
When Nathan merely smiled, something snapped inside Dani and she hit him. Smacked him right in the face and then hard across his chest. He wasn’t much taller than she, and almost as skinny. Her blows made him stumble back, and he threw up an arm to ward her off.
But Dani couldn’t seem to stop. It was as if someone else had taken control of her body. Someone who’d been suppressing her rage for years. Ever since her parents had brought home a son…
“Tell me! Tell me!”
Dani kept right on hitting him until she heard her mother cry out and her father say in a shocked voice, “Danielle! That’s enough!”
Canton stood at the bottom of the stairs taking it all in. He said nothing, but his dark gaze glittered with an emotion Dani couldn’t define.
The anger drained out of her so quickly she almost collapsed. She would have, if Nathan hadn’t grabbed her wrists to hold her up.
“I’ve been waiting years to see that look on Mother’s face,” he whispered, and then he released her and turned away.
CHAPTER THREE
FOUR WEEKS LATER, Greg Melcher sat at the back of the Allentown High School auditorium and watched Danielle Williams deliver the valedictory address at her graduation. She managed to hit just the right notes of melancholy and anticipation as she talked about leaving the past behind in order to embrace the future.
It was the usual inane garbage that would be delivered at countless graduation ceremonies in countless little burgs all over Texas on that hot Sunday afternoon.
But this speech was different because, in spite of Dani’s hesitant, emotional delivery, Melcher thought he could detect the barest hint of triumph in her tremulous voice. She was going to embrace the future, all right. She was going to embrace the hell out of it once she received the Belmont Award.
That little girl thinks she got away with murder. Now she’s going to take that scholarship money, get herself a fancy degree, and maybe even a rich husband if she plays her cards right.
God help that poor SOB, whoever he turns out to be, Melcher thought grimly.
But even as he sat there resenting Dani Williams’s future, he couldn’t help admiring her nerve. The girl was fearless. It wasn’t every seventeen-year-old who could execute a triple murder so flawlessly and leave nothing more than a whisper of suspicion behind. But those doubts were still lingering, if the subdued applause she received after her speech was any indication.
She returned to her seat on the stage, pressed her knees together and clasped her hands in her lap. There she sat, the very epitome of youth and hope and innocence. And she was good-looking to boot. Not drop-dead gorgeous the way Melcher preferred, but he had to admit there was something special about her. She had presence, with all that dark, glossy hair and those violet-colored eyes. And such poise!
Melcher didn’t know how she managed to keep her cool so well, but even when another classmate got up to deliver a moving tribute to Paul Ryann, she merely blinked away the tears instead of conspicuously dabbing at her eyes. The girl’s performance was nothing short of brilliant.
Yes, a part of Melcher couldn’t help admiring her even as he plotted her downfall. Because, after all, ambition was something he understood. He didn’t have a fancy degree from a school like Drury, but, by God, he was a damn good reporter with an uncanny instinct for looking under just the right rock. He might have started his career at a two-bit weekly in East Texas, but he sure as hell didn’t plan to end it that way.
Melcher had been waiting five years to catch some big-city editor’s eye. Houston, Dallas, San Antonio—those markets were respectable and a hell of a lot better than what he had now, but he ultimately had his eye on the big time. The show, as he liked to call it. More than anything in the world, he wanted to be an investigative reporter for the New York Times. Then, after he wrote a few books, won a Pulitzer or two, he’d make the move to television where the real money was.
But…he was getting a little ahead of himself.
It was hard not to dream, though. Hard not to imagine the headlines: Valedictorian Kills Rival.
A story like that could easily go national if Melcher worked it just right. Murdering cadets. Cheerleader moms hiring hit men. The public loved that kind of stuff. They couldn’t get enough of it, and this story had it all. Passion, jealousy, resentment. An honors student—a girl who’d never gotten so much as a day of detention in her life—caving to the pressures and competition that now faced high school seniors all across the country. Hell, the afternoon talk shows would eat that up with a spoon. And with a little luck, Melcher might even get a book and movie deal out of it.
He was still daydreaming, still smiling to himself when Dani walked across the stage to receive the Belmont Award. Her big moment at hand, she played it just right. Humble, grateful, sad. She didn’t drop her guard even for an instant, but she didn’t fool Melcher. He could see right through her. Beneath that sweet, wistful facade was a cold-blooded killer. A black widow in the making. A woman who seduced…and then murdered to get what she wanted.
Melcher could just see those headlines now.
And as he watched Danielle Williams accept the award, he began to hate her a little. Not because she’d killed an innocent boy and his family out of greed, but because she represented all that had remained elusive in his own life.
It was time someone brought that little girl down a peg or two. And Melcher was just the guy to do it.
DANI AND HER PARENTS celebrated quietly after the ceremony. She hadn’t been invited to any of the after parties nor had she participated in any of the pregraduation events.
After Paul’s death, when word had gotten out that she was a suspect, her classmates, including friends she’d gone to school with her whole life, had shunned her. Dani supposed she couldn’t blame them. If the police were right and the fire had been deliberately set, then the community had a murderer somewhere in its midst. Someone they knew had killed not one person, but three.
Dani understood that fear—she felt it, too. But the past two months had been lonelier than she ever could have imagined. It certainly wasn’t the way she would have chosen to end her high school years.
And to make matters worse, Nathan had left home. Just up and disappeared in the middle of the night without a word or a note to anyone. They didn’t have a clue where he’d gone off to, and Dani knew her parents, especially her mother, lived in a constant state of terror that she would get a phone call from a stranger some night informing her that her son was dead.
In the meantime, the investigation had finally wound down, even though an arrest had yet to be made. Dani knew that the police had checked into the Ryanns’ background and connections in Baton Rouge, but whether anything suspicious had turned up, she had no idea.
She did know, however, that Canton still considered her a suspect. In the ensuing weeks since that first interrogation, he had come into the store several times where Dani worked. He never said anything, just stared at her for long moments before turning to walk out.
And one night when she was up late studying, she’d glanced out the window to see a police car parked down the road from her house. She’d known instinctively it was Canton.
In her more charitable moments, Dani could appreciate that he was just doing his job, but sometimes it seemed as if he was deliberately stalking her just to unnerve her. And it worked. His relentless pursuit left her shaken and edgy and more than a little afraid. There was something almost obsessive about his behavior, and Dani wondered now how she’d ever found him attractive.
Her mother’s conduct during the past two months had been unsettling, as well. Whether it was Nathan’s disappearance, the suspicions cast upon her daughter, or a combination of both, Rena Williams had become even more withdrawn and had begun to suffer anxiety attacks. Some were so severe that she didn’t dare leave the house. She hadn’t even been able to attend Dani’s graduation ceremony, but had stayed home instead to prepare her daughter’s favorite meal and to beautifully decorate a cake, which she made a production of serving on her best china.
It was a rather pathetic attempt to commemorate the day, and they all knew it. As soon as they’d eaten, her father mumbled something about work he had to do in the barn and left the house. Dani helped her mother clean up, and then she, too, escaped. But instead of going straight to her room, she crossed the hall to Nathan’s room. His door was ajar, and she knew that it had been closed earlier. It was always closed.
After he’d first disappeared, Dani had been inside several times to search through his belongings, hoping to find something that would tell her where he’d gone. He’d left nearly everything behind. His clothes, his CD collection, even a stash of pot that Dani had flushed down the toilet before her parents could see it.
By all indications, her brother had taken off on the spur of the moment with nothing more than the clothes on his back, his car, and money he’d taken from their mother’s purse and from Dani’s dresser drawer.
Her searches had been so thorough that when Dani first stepped across the threshold that afternoon, she knew immediately that something was different. Someone had been in her brother’s room since she last had. And that someone had deliberately left the door ajar.
Her mother? Doubtful, since she could hardly bear to mention her son’s name.
Her father? Not likely, since he’d pretty much written Nathan off.
Then who?
Dani hovered in the doorway, hesitant for some reason to enter. The room had always been a little eerie, with its relentless black furnishings and her brother’s bizarre drawings tacked to the walls. He was a gifted artist, but his fascination for eyes had always seemed a bit creepy to Dani. Thousands of the disembodied orbs stared at her accusingly as she walked into his room and closed the door.
She hadn’t even been aware of looking for anything specific until she saw the corner of an envelope protruding from behind Nathan’s dresser. She knew she hadn’t overlooked it in her previous searches. She was too methodical. Too precise. If that letter had been there before, she would have found it.
As she bent to pick it up, the scent of her own perfume wafted on the musty air.
And then she knew. The letter was from her secret admirer.
But…Paul was dead. If he hadn’t sent that letter…if he hadn’t sent all those other letters…then who had?
Dread tightened Dani’s chest as she crossed the hall and entered her room. Closing and locking the door, she opened the envelope and withdrew the single sheet of paper from inside. She recognized the handwriting instantly, and her heart almost stopped.
The letter—in her own precise script—said simply, I did it for you, Dani. And it was signed, your One and Only.
Dani put a trembling hand to her mouth.
Did the letter mean…what she thought it meant? Had someone killed Paul and his family…for her?
She had to call the police. She had to show them the letter she still clutched in her hand. She had to tell them what she knew…somehow make them understand…
Paul’s killer had to be found. Her secret admirer had to be exposed.
The phone on her nightstand rang, and Dani jumped, still in shock. She waited for her mother to pick up downstairs, but when the phone rang twice more, Dani crossed the room to answer it.
“Hello?”
“I did it for you, Dani.”
She didn’t recognize the voice on the other end. She had a feeling the caller was deliberately disguising his identity. Gripping the phone in terror, she whispered, “Who is this?”
“Just think of it as my graduation present to you. The ultimate gift…”
She squeezed her eyes closed. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be true.
“You understand now, don’t you?” the voice said softly. “You’re mine, Dani. You’ll always be mine. Nothing can change that.”
Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t breathe. “I’m going to the police. They’ll find you, and put you in jail where you belong—”
“He made you say that, didn’t he?” The voice grew angry and sullen. “I know what’s going on. He’s trying to keep us apart, but don’t worry. I won’t let him come between us. I won’t let anyone stand in our way.”
“Who are you?” Dani whispered again.
“You know who I am, Dani. I’m your One and Only…”
DANI SAT ON THE EDGE of her bed, not knowing what to do. She wanted to call the police, but she was afraid to. What if they didn’t believe her? What if they turned it all around again and made it seem as if she were guilty?
She glanced down at the letter she still clutched in her hand. The penmanship looked exactly like hers. Somehow her secret admirer had managed to duplicate her handwriting so precisely that the police might very well think she’d written the note herself. Canton already suspected her. What if they threw her in jail? What if they made her stand trial and she was found guilty?
Dani had no idea how long she sat in her room agonizing. It must have been hours later when she heard a distant noise. She listened for a moment, then jumped up from the bed when she recognized the sound. Someone was screaming.
She opened her bedroom door and hurried into the hallway. “Mom? Dad?”
When there was no answer, she raced down the stairs and into the kitchen. The back door was open, and the screams grew louder. Someone was in terrible agony.
Frantic now, Dani ran outside. She met her mother coming up from the barn. She was covered in blood.
Sobbing, she fell into Dani’s arms. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” she cried over and over.
“Mom, what is it? What happened?”
“Your father,” she finally managed to whisper. “Oh, God, Dani, there’s been a terrible accident….”
CHAPTER FOUR
Houston, Texas
Eleven years later…
FOR A COLD, MERCENARY KILLER, she wasn’t bad looking. In fact, when the light hit her just right or she turned her head at a certain angle, she was quite possibly the most beautiful woman Richard Berkley had ever seen. But that was only a fleeting impression. His overall assessment of her was of a mildly pretty woman who knew how to make an entrance.
A tall, slender brunette, she carried herself with an almost regal elegance, but the wildness in her violet-colored eyes drew a shiver up Richard’s spine. Dressed all in white, she appeared at once innocent and seductive. Aloof, and yet dangerously charismatic. A walking contradiction.
Seeing her in person for the first time, Richard could appreciate why men were so drawn to her, how they could easily and unsuspectingly become entangled in her deadly web. Especially someone as naive as his brother.
“There she is,” the man seated across the table said in a low voice. “She just came in. No, don’t turn! We don’t want her to see us together.”
Richard didn’t have to swivel around; he’d been watching her in the large mirror that hung at the back of the restaurant ever since she’d walked through the door. The lunchtime crowd at Seraphina’s, one of Houston’s hottest downtown restaurants, was large and noisy, but it seemed to Richard that a hush fell over the place when she entered.
Or perhaps that was only his imagination. He was probably attributing powers to the woman that she didn’t possess. But it was an understandable mistake, considering he knew only too well how truly cunning she was. And how maddeningly elusive. He’d been on her trail for more years than he cared to remember.
And now he’d found her.
He picked up his drink with a hand that didn’t tremble, that didn’t give away the rage surging through his whole body, and said, almost matter-of-factly, “When can I meet her?”
“It’ll take at least a couple of weeks for my operatives to gather all the information we need.”
“I was hoping it could be sooner.”
Max Tripp shook his head. “You’ll just have to be patient, I’m afraid. We don’t want to rush the process. Each piece of information is vital to the outcome. In the meantime, try to stay focused on the bigger picture. If a meeting with Dr. West was all you wanted, you could have arranged it yourself by picking up the phone and making an appointment. But that’s not why you came to us, is it?”
“No.”
“You told us in your preliminary interview that Dr. West is the woman of your dreams, the woman with whom you want to spend the rest of your life. We can help you make that happen, but as I said, you’ll have to be patient. Designing the appropriate coincidental meeting can sometimes take weeks, or even months of planning and preparation, but most of our clients agree that the outcome is well worth the wait.”
Most of your clients haven’t been waiting seven years to catch a killer at her own game.
Richard glanced at Darian West in the mirror again. She was seated alone, but from the admiring stares she received from nearby diners, he assumed her solitude was by choice.
Was she waiting for someone? Her next victim?
Or was her intended prey somewhere in that very room?
Richard glanced around the crowded restaurant. When his gaze returned to her reflection, he found her staring at him, and his blood turned to ice.
He suppressed a shudder as he focused his attention on Max Tripp. “Confidentiality is guaranteed, I assume.”
“Of course. Our reputation is built on our discretion. She’ll never know that your initial meeting was all carefully orchestrated unless you decide to tell her yourself. The same goes for our investigation. We’ll talk to her friends, neighbors, business associates—anyone who can help us gain insight into her personality and character, her likes and dislikes, even her hopes and dreams. By the time we’re finished, we’ll know Dr. West inside and out, but neither she nor the people we interview will ever suspect our motives. We’re good at what we do, Mr. Berkley—but then, you already knew that. A man with your resources would have made certain of our expertise before you contacted us. Am I right?”
“I’m nothing if not careful,” Richard agreed.
Something in his tone must have disturbed Max Tripp, because he glanced away, frowning. “Yes, I sensed that,” he murmured.
“I understand that you were once a police officer, Mr. Tripp.”
