I Heart You Read online

  Rachel opened the folder, and her eyes widened when she noticed a picture of a woman who could have passed for her twin. She stared at the other woman's features, amazed by the almost perfect likeness. Raising her head, she waited for the cop to continue.

  Shaking his head, he spoke. “This is Gabrielle Taylor. Her body was found near Navy Pier over the weekend. She is—or was, I should say—a prostitute who was last seen alive walking along Wacker Drive near the Sears Tower. That's only a few blocks from the Scribe's Pen bookstore where you were attacked."

  She could hear the blood pounding in her ears. “You're saying that this crazy bastard went after this woman because he couldn't have me?"

  His gaze was penetrating. “The coroner estimates the time of death between midnight and two AM that night. Do you know where Lucian Drake was at that time?"

  Her voice was low. “I don't like what you're implying, Detective. He was with me ... all night."

  Frustrated, Petersen grabbed her wrist in a strong grip. “You know, I had to remove the really graphic photos so you could see this. You want to know how this girl died? Multiple stab wounds to the neck and chest, and that was after he brutally raped her!"

  Rachel wrenched her hand away. She didn't want to hear the awful details of the woman's death, but she knew she had to. She knew it could have easily been her.

  "What the hell do you want from me? I told you that I was with Lucian that night. Even then, you had a problem with him. Why are you so eager to label him the bad guy?"

  He didn't reply, and Rachel's cell phone rang. The screen told her that the call was from Lucian. Rachel took a deep breath and pressed the button to accept the call. “Hello?"

  "Hey, sweetie. I just wanted to let you know that I made it."

  She spoke into the phone, trying to mask her uncertainty as the detective stood there listening to their conversation. “Glad to hear it. Lucian, how long do you think it will be before you return? I miss you."

  "Me too, Rach. I'm supposed to be done here sometime tomorrow, so hopefully I'll be back in time for our evening. Is there something wrong?"

  There's no need to burden him with this while he's on a job, she thought. This can wait until tomorrow. “No, nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"

  She heard Lucian pause for a moment. “It's just that your voice sounds a bit off."

  Rachel locked eyes with the detective. “No, I'm fine. Just stressed."

  The answer seemed to satisfy him, because Lucian let it rest. “Okay, don't work too hard. I want us to enjoy our first Valentine's Day together. I love you."

  She somehow managed to keep her voice steady. “I love you, too."

  The call ended, and Petersen rose from the edge of the desk where he'd been sitting. His tone was sarcastic. “Aww, isn't that sweet. I hope you're right about him instead of me. Please keep this in mind, would you? Considering the fact that we're dealing with a sick son-of-a-bitch who obviously has his sights on you, doesn't it strike you as odd that there's a four day gap where there was no contact with him whatsoever?"

  She said nothing, her insides churning. He continued. “Friday morning, you got the note. Later that evening, he approached you. You also hooked up with Drake that night, and an innocent woman got iced simply because she looked like you. Then you had your magical weekend with Prince Charming and the following Monday worry free, and now this happens. Why does this stalker back off when your guy's around? Why did he give up so easily when he could have had you, just because Drake rushed in? They have to be working together! Is any of this getting through to you? Is love worth all this shit?"

  For the life of her, she had no idea how to respond.

  * * * *

  Rachel turned the key in the lock and cracked open her apartment door. A burly officer stepped forward and nodded to her. “Excuse me, Ma'am."

  She moved to the side and he entered ahead of her, looking around. Detective Petersen stood outside with her until the officer let them know it was safe to come inside. She walked to the bedroom to pack her things while the men waited to take her to the hotel.

  Looking around the room, she decided to pack only the essentials, underwear, toiletries, etc. She found a duffel bag in the closet and spent the next five minutes preparing her bags. Rachel finished and returned to the foyer to meet the police. “I'm ready."

  Petersen stepped forward. “Which hotel are we going to?” Rachel was about to reply when the doorbell rang. He raised an eyebrow at the sound. “Are you expecting anyone?"

  Rachel shook her head, and the detective opened the door to reveal a delivery man holding a box. Intimidated by the police, he nervously addressed Petersen. “Um, I have a package for a Ms. Malone from the Spellman Literary Agency."

  Surprised, she stepped forward and signed for the package. It's probably a stack of new books for me to review. She brought the box to the coffee table and asked the burly officer to bring her a letter opener from her office desk. He did so, and she carefully opened the box. The note taped to the inside flap caught her attention, and she peeled it away from the cardboard, unfolded it and read.

  Roses are red,

  Violets are blue,

  Flowers die,

  And so will you.

  Rachel experienced a sharp pang in her chest at the threatening message, not knowing what to make of it. She opened the box further and screamed in horror. Inside lay a pig's heart with a nail through it, surrounded by white roses. The men groaned at the sight, their faces twisted with disgust as the pungent smell of formaldehyde reached their noses.

  She backed away, unable to tear her gaze from the gruesome spectacle. Tears streamed down her face, and she couldn't stop them or the sounds of primal fear that escaped her constricted throat. “What the fuck? Who's doing this to me? Why?"

  Looking up at Petersen, she swallowed hard. “Please, let's get out of here."

  Chapter Eight

  Soon after the plane touched down at O'Hare Airport, Lucian rushed out of the terminal. Something about his earlier phone conversation with Rachel didn't sit well with him, and he was anxious to see her again. Grateful that he always traveled light, he'd sailed through Customs and didn't have to wait for luggage. He got into his car and drove out of the parking garage, his mind still on Rachel.

  Lucian pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial for her apartment phone, and he grew worried when she didn't answer after several rings. He looked at the clock and noticed that it was three in the morning. He had taken the red eye flight back as soon as his business in Mexico was over. Where could she be at this hour?

  He pressed another button to call her cell, but he got Rachel's voicemail. His stomach cramped as fear began to sink in, and his cell phone rang a moment later.

  Willing himself to calm down, he took the call. “Hello?"

  * * * *

  February 14

  Rachel stood in the window of her suite at the Westin Hotel as the sun rose in the distance, marking the beginning of Valentine's Day. Her eyes were red from crying all night, and she hadn't slept. She was afraid that she would never sleep again. When Petersen escorted her to the hotel the night before, he'd told her that he believed Lucian was somehow behind the package. “Deliveries can be arranged from long distances,” he'd said with an accusing gleam in his eyes. “Even from Mexico."

  She couldn't get the macabre valentine out of her mind. The note had been written in a sloppy, almost childlike scrawl. It wasn't anything like the elegant, flowing script that she had seen Lucian use during their time together. She had once read somewhere that a person's handwriting was as unique as a fingerprint, and for that reason she had no doubt in her mind that Lucian wasn't the man tormenting her.

  Her cell phone went off, startling her out of her throughts. She slowly walked to the tiny device, hesitating because she didn't recognize the number on the view screen. She picked it up and accepted the call. “Hello?"

  A man's voice answered. “Ah, thank God you're there! I've been
trying to get a hold of you for hours! You're Rachel Malone, aren't you?"

  She frowned at the unfamiliar caller. “Who are you? How did you get this number?"

  The stranger cleared his throat. “I'm Ethan Drake, Luc's father. I got it from his daily planner. Something's happened, and I told him that I'd contact you right away."

  At his words, Rachel's heart skidded to a halt. She held on to a table for support.

  "What happened to him? Please tell me he's okay."

  Rachel could hear the concern in Ethan's voice as he spoke. “Luc returned from Mexico this morning and I stopped by to see him, and right now he's on the floor with horrible cramping. Something bad that he ate in Mexico, I gather. He's in a lot of pain right now, sweating and retching..."

  She gasped, recognizing the cause, severe food poisoning. Slow to act, but hard hitting and potentially deadly if left untreated. She'd previously suffered from it during a worldwide book tour, so she knew the consequences. “Mr. Drake, you need to take him to a hospital now."

  "I tried, but he won't go until you get here. He'd rather have you with him than me."

  Her mind raced, filled with tragic scenarios involving Lucian. “Let me talk to him."

  The older man sighed heavily. “Well, he can't stand at the moment and can barely speak, the cramps and dry heaves are so bad. I had to help him to the bathroom. His stomach's already empty, but the spasms have really got a hold on him. All he can do is lie there on the floor by the toilet, crying out your name."

  Rachel's eyes stung with tears at Ethan's words. She didn't know what to think of the situation. In the back of her mind, she remembered what Lucian had said about his strained relationship with his father and she had her guard up. On the other hand, Lucian had given his father a key for emergencies because he couldn't turn his back on his own flesh and blood, despite their past. Before she could reply, she heard a masculine cry of pain over the phone. Oh, God. I have to get to Lucian now.

  Ethan continued. “Please hurry so we can get him to the hospital. He won't leave the apartment without you."

  She was already gathering her clothes. “I'll be right there."

  After ending the call, she hurried to dress before leaving the hotel room. Frantic, she rushed out to her car, her mind focused only on getting to Lucian. She sped out of the parking lot with her cell phone at the ready, not noticing the dark car that followed her.

  * * * *

  Rachel rang the doorbell to Lucian's apartment and Ethan opened the door. He looked the way she imagined Lucian would appear in thirty years’ time. He had the same height and athletic build as his son, but there were marked differences. Instead of the midnight silk that was Lucian's hair, Ethan's was seasoned with gray. He was standing in shadow, his face serious. “Please, come in."

  She walked into the foyer, her eyes adjusting to the darkness as she searched for signs of Lucian. As she passed the table that Lucian used for his mail, she noticed that the curtains were still drawn inside the apartment. “How is he? We have to get him ready for when the ambulance comes. I called 911 on the way over."

  Ethan didn't respond. Rachel looked down and recognized the note from Friday night. The slip of paper had been taped to Lucian's door while they kissed in the hallway. She bent over the table, moving the envelopes to the side to read it. The message was written in the same awful handwriting as her Valentine's threat, the haphazard style that would remain etched in her mind forever.

  'Stopped by to see how things went at the book signing. I'll call tomorrow. Dad.'

  Rachel bit her lip hard to stop herself from screaming. Ethan was her stalker. He'd been behind her harassment, her attack and the murder of that woman. He snickered as he closed the door and locked it, trapping her inside with him. He switched on the hall light before slowly walking towards her, the endless black abyss of his eyes finally visible. His expression was smug as he lowered his voice until it became the abrasive rasp that she had heard both in the parking lot and on the phone the day before.

  "You really shouldn't have called nine-one-one, whore. Now I really do have to kill you. I wanted to play with you first, to make you wish for death, but now I'll just have to give it to you quicker."

  Terror seized her at the statement. “Where is he? What have you done to Lucian?"

  "I didn't kill him, if that's what you're thinking. But you won't be so lucky."

  Ethan pulled out his knife, his gaze intense as he waved it in the air before her. Fear was a bitter taste in Rachel's mouth, but she would not give the bastard the satisfaction of cowering before him. She slowly backed away from Ethan, her eyes darting around the apartment for a place to hide or a possible weapon. There was nothing available for her to use. Her voice wobbled. “Why are you doing this?"

  He frowned at her as if she should have known the reason. “Why? Because you're a whore, a writer of lies. The women who buy your books become infected by your sickness and become whores themselves. My late wife loved romance novels, you know. When the boy left for college, I found out that she was going to leave me, probably to trade me in for a newer, sleeker model with a big dick who could fuck all night like what she'd read in those trashy novels. I had to stop her, and so I did."

  Rachel stared at him like the loathsome creature he was. “You killed her."

  He laughed loudly. “Yeah, it was a clever setup. Splash! Right in the river. Broken neck."

  Ill from the mental images his words created, she struggled to keep herself together.

  "What about me?"

  Ethan caressed the blade of the knife like a lover. “I was supposed to be at the book signing, but somehow I didn't think you'd give an old man like me the time of day. So I asked Luc to take my place. He thinks he's so much better than his dad, that boy. I left him a copy of your latest shit, thinking that he'd be too curious to let it go, and I was right. He went, you two hit it off ... and the rest was history. I needed him to get to you."

  So, he used his own son as a pawn in his twisted game. “My number and address?"

  "Oh, that was easy,” he gloated. “I had the keys, and Luc had the information. Nice and simple, and it was great fun to make you squirm once I got what I needed."

  His eyes lingered on her curves, instantly making her long for a shower to scrub away his dirty stare. “Damn, and I was so looking forward to making you scream with pain and beg for mercy ... or for my cock. I was eager to show you my unique collection. Do you know what a cattle prod can do to the human body, especially when applied to certain sensitive areas? What a waste. Now I'll just have to settle for your bleeding to death."

  Rachel had reached the living room wall, beside the closed curtains. There was no way out, and she knew there was no chance to run without getting stabbed in the process.

  Pleased by her plight, Ethan shot her a condescending smile. “Any last words?"

  She had nothing to lose, and she looked at Ethan with open disgust and hatred. “You should have thrown yourself in the river, you insane fuck!"

  He lunged at her, enraged. Rachel screamed and ducked to avoid the arc of the knife as it whizzed through the air. Her fingers latched onto the curtains as she fell to the floor, pulling them from their rods. Outside the apartment building, the policeman assigned to follow Rachel had a clear view of Ethan snarling and holding the knife high. The cop drew his gun and fired without hesitation. Several gunshots exploded through the glass, the bullets slamming into the older man's chest and spinning him around. Dead, Ethan fell to the floor, his evil eyes staring at nothing.

  Rachel sat frozen against the wall, barely hearing the police officers as they broke down the door and rushed toward her. She couldn't stop staring at those eyes, and she knew they would haunt her for the rest of her life. A cop knelt beside her, glancing between her and the body on the floor.

  "You're going to be okay, Ms. Malone."

  Her lips moved, but no sound escaped. The cop rose from the floor and helped her up, bringing her to the sofa before joini
ng his companions. A medical team arrived and rushed to her. As they peppered her with questions, she observed the policemen as they checked out the apartment, and she remembered the sound of agony she'd heard over the phone. Lucian.

  She licked her dry lips and was about to speak when one of the cops shouted, “We need some medics over here!” Rachel turned her head, and her eyes widened at the dark pool of blood on the floor. Her hand tightened on the sofa cushion beside her. Please God, no.

  More paramedics arrived at the crime scene, and they brought a gurney along. Rachel left the couch and addressed a nearby policeman, desperate for answers. “Please tell me what's going on."

  "You don't need to see this, ma'am."

  Rachel's stomach dropped. “Is Lucian alive? Please, I need to know."

  The cop sighed. “He's been badly beaten. They're preparing to move him now. You can ride with him in the ambulance if you'd like."

  She nodded just as the medics wheeled Lucian out of the apartment. He was covered in blood, and he barely moved. “Hold on, baby,” she whispered to his unconscious form as she joined the departing medical crew, and they all left the building together.

  * * * *

  Rachel sat in the waiting room of the hospital, staring off into space. The emergency room doctors were working on Lucian, and each passing minute seemed like a year. She was the only person in the room, and the ticking of the clock was deafening to her.

  The door opened, and Detective Petersen walked in with a large brown paper bag. He took a seat beside her, noting the paleness of her features. “I've got coffee and a couple of bear claws in here, if you're interested."

  She raised her eyes from the floor to his face, but remained silent. He made a frustrated sound. “You have to eat to keep your strength up, Rachel. What good can you do for Drake if you can barely stand?"

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “Why do you care, Petersen? You thought he was the one behind all this. You had issues with Lucian from the very beginning and now that he's in that room fighting for his..."