In a Heartbeat. Rita Herron

      “I’m sorry, Lisa, I didn’t mean to resurrect the memory of your experience.”

      “Forget it.” She quickly dismissed his apology, although the image of her own grave flashed in her head like a still photograph that had been framed in her memory forever. “Do you have any suspects in mind?”

      “My partner’s gone to question White’s old cell mate. He was paroled a few days ago.”

      Lisa’s hand tightened around her mug at the implications. William’s cell mate was free. Knew William’s secrets. Even where he might have held her and the other women.

      He might be copying William’s crimes.

      And if he did, would he choose her as one of his victims?

      The appearance of her new neighbor suddenly resurfaced, and her suspicions mounted. “Brad, I’m sure I’m being paranoid, but this morning a strange man came to my door.”

      Brad’s head jerked up. “What happened?”

      Lisa explained about the visit. “He said his name was Aiden Henderson.”

      Brad jotted that down. “I’ll definitely check him out.”

      Lisa fidgeted. “Like I said, I’m probably being paranoid. But he brought me the paper and specifically mentioned the story about the missing woman.”

      Brad frowned. “It could be a coincidence.”

      Or maybe he’d known William, and he’d come here looking for her, only pretending to be a neighbor.

      BRAD SAW THE WHEELS turning in Lisa’s mind. She knew that a copycat killer meant danger for her.

      “Lisa—”

      Her phone jangled, and she startled, hitting the table with her knee and sloshing coffee onto the tray. Her gaze flew to him, and he maintained a guarded expression, not yielding to the voices in his head urging him to reach out and calm her. She grabbed a napkin to blot up the mess, but the phone trilled again, and her fingers were trembling, so he took the napkin from her.

      “Let me clean it up while you answer that.”

      She swallowed, hesitating another second, then stood and checked the caller ID. With a pinched look between her brows, she retrieved the handset. “Hello, Dad.”

      Brad poured himself another cup of coffee, stood and paced to the window in the kitchen to offer her privacy, although his body was wound as tight as a spring. He had a feeling he knew the reason Liam Langley had phoned.

      And he would not be happy with Brad’s visit with his daughter.

      Langley hadn’t held back his opinion of Brad or minced words to soften the blow four years ago.

      Not that he’d blamed him.

      In fact, Langley had discovered Brad’s checkered past, the man he’d almost killed as a teenager, and threatened to tell Lisa. Brad had had to walk away. He hadn’t wanted Lisa to remember him as a teenage killer.

      “I’m fine, Dad,” he heard her say. “No, really.” She paused and twisted the phone cord in her hand. “Yes, I’ve heard about the copycat.” Another pause. “No, I’m not coming back to Atlanta right now. Dad…” Irritation laced her voice. “Listen, I have a visitor, let me call you back.”

      Another long paused followed, and Brad imagined Dr. Langley grilling her over the identity of her guest. Finally she replied in a low whisper, “Yes, it’s Special Agent Booker.”

      She glanced up at him in apology, and he shrugged, although his gut clenched. He didn’t know why the man’s opinion of him rattled him, but it did.

      “Dad, no—”

      Lisa sighed audibly, gave Brad a helpless look and held the phone away from her. “He wants to talk to you.”

      Brad nodded, not surprised, then crossed the small kitchen-den combination in three strides and took the handset. “Dr. Langley, Booker here.”

      “You son of a bitch, what the hell are you doing there?”

      “I came to check on Lisa. I do that from time to time.”

      “I warned you to stay away from my daughter,” Langley snapped. “You are not fit to be in the same room with her.”

      Brad grimaced. He didn’t need reminding that he wasn’t good enough for Lisa.

      “I had to see her,” he said in a low voice.

      “I saw the story about that poor woman, Joann Worthy, in the paper,” Langley said. “For God’s sake, Mindy Faulkner works at the same hospital I do. The police have crawled all over the place asking questions. They even questioned me.”

      Brad silently grimaced. “I’m sorry, sir, but they’re simply doing their jobs. I assume you realize we’re dealing with a copycat killer.”

      “And my daughter is in danger again.” Langley’s voice rose a decibel. “That’s why you’re there, isn’t it?”

      “Not exactly,” Brad said.

      “What do you mean? You haven’t been seeing her, have you?” Langley hissed in distrust. “I thought we settled that issue four years ago.”

      That issue? Although Brad knew Langley was right, he still balked at his attitude. “No, this is not a personal visit.” But not because he didn’t want it to be.

      “Then what is it? You think she might know something to help you now, so you want to dredge up the past. I won’t let you do that to her, Booker.”

      “I don’t like upsetting her either, sir, but we have to do everything possible to stop this maniac.”

      “But how could Lisa possibly help you? She told you everything at that blasted trial.”

      “We think this man might have known White. Maybe he was a cell mate or buddy, someone who White confided in. He might know where White took his victims—”

      “My daughter has a name, goddamn you,” Langley snarled. “Use it.”

      Brad cleared his throat, his own patience teetering on a thin line. “You don’t need to remind me,” he said in a warning voice. “But if this copycat is taking his victims to the same place White used, it would help if we could find that building, and Lisa might know where it is.”

      “Like I said, my daughter has been through enough, Booker. If she’s buried that memory, it’s for a good reason. Now I don’t want her involved in this at all.” He heaved a breath. “In fact, I tried to talk her into coming here to stay. If not, I’ll hire a bodyguard for her.”

      “Dr. Langley, I don’t know if that’s necessary now—”

      “If he’s a copycat, following White, why wouldn’t he come after Lisa? As you pointed out when you forced her to testify, she’s White’s only surviving victim. For all we know she may be the reason this psycho started up again.”

      Brad clenched his jaw, unable to argue the point. It was, perhaps in reality, the very reason he had driven here himself. “I swear, Dr. Langley, I will protect her this time.”

      “You expect me to trust you with Lisa’s safety?” Langley shouted. “You sure as hell didn’t protect her the first time.”

      “I know that.” Anger mounted within Brad. Every day he wrestled with the guilt that ate at him. It was like a sore that wouldn’t heal. But he angled his head away from Lisa, refusing to upset her any more than necessary. “If this lunatic comes after Lisa, he won’t get her. I’ll give my life before I’ll let that happen.”

      “Your life won’t be worth anything if he succeeds,” Langley said. “Because if one hair on my daughter’s head is harmed again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

      LIAM