Identity Crisis(68)

Holding tight, holding his breath, holding to every last shred of control, he waited for her, waited expectantly, anxiously, needily, until at last her voice found its way up through her efforts to breathe. ‘Garrett, make me come now. I need you to make me come.’

It only took another sharp thrust and she convulsed into orgasm, gripping him tight enough to send him as well, shuddering and growling against her.

And when they could breathe again, she reached behind her and patted his ass with her palm. ‘That’s better. I’ll go back to sleep now.’ And she did. They both did.

Even though her father’s was a very small motorhome, it still dominated the street in front of Garrett Thorne’s house. Carla wasn’t sure how long she could park in the neighborhood before someone called the police and she’d have to ask her dad to come get it and bring her car back. It was still smaller than some of the news vans, she told herself, though she didn’t expect that to carry much weight with the police. Even though she could barely turn around without hitting her nose on the opposite wall, at least now she had the luxuries of a bathroom and a mini refrigerator. She could last for weeks if she had to with her father bringing her supplies. And he loved a good mystery as much as she did, so he had been all too happy to oblige.

Still, this mystery frightened her. This mystery made her feel there was way more at risk than a great story.

A tinny rendition of Dueling Banjos suddenly filled the tight space and she jumped and uttered a little yelp of surprise before she managed to retrieve her iPhone from the makeshift Formica table.

‘Carla, Barker Blessing here.’

There was only one reason she could think that he might be up at this hour. Her insides roiled at the sound of his voice, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. ‘Have you heard from him?’ She hoped he couldn’t hear the nervous flutter in her voice.

‘No,’ came the breathy reply.

She slumped, feeling the tension drain away from her shoulders. Even though they really could use another message from the stalker about now, it was still a relief not to have one. There was an uncertain sounding pause, and she could hear Blessing take a deep breath. ‘Then there’s – nothing new?’

‘No. Nothing.’ she said, continuing her web search for stalkers in the Northwest who were notable enough to get the police’s attention. There were also some websites her father had given her links to. His resources were often at least as good as the police.

Blessing laughed nervously. ‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’

‘No. I was awake.’ She peeked out at the front of the Thorne house, bathed in the early morning sun. Her eyes felt like they were full of sand, but she was awake.

‘You haven’t told anyone, have you?’ he said. ‘I mean, he did say not to and we can’t put poor Tess at any more risk than she already is, can we?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course I haven’t told anyone.’ Well, she had actually told her father, but the stalker hadn’t said she couldn’t and her dad had wheedled it out of her in exchange for the motorhome and help with the links he had access to. Besides, her dad was a resource she couldn’t afford to overlook. ‘I’m just doing a little research on my own. You’ll let me know if you hear from him, though, right?’

‘Yes, yes,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you should come over to my place, maybe for brunch, and we could discuss everything that’s happened. I’m sure you must have more questions about my time with Tess at the Golden Kiss Awards. Plus it would be nice to meet the woman in person who interviewed me.’

Jesus, was the guy really hitting on her? ‘Thank you, Mr. Blessing, but at the moment, I can’t get away.’

‘Are you still staking out Thorne’s house?’

‘Mmm-hmmm.’ A few of the press were now out of the vans, milling about. Some had cups from the local Starbucks, some were eating doughnuts. Her stomach growled.

‘Any sightings of our illustrious couple?’

‘Nothing since the press conference. I would imagine they’re still in bed.’

‘You suppose she really is writing?’ His voice was low, suggestive. ‘Thorne has a reputation, you know.’

‘I don’t know what she’s doing, Mr. Blessing. At the moment you know as much as I do.’ That was a lie, but his pumping her for information was a waste of her time if he had nothing he could offer.

For a second, there was silence on the line. An email from her father popped onto the screen of her iPad. She opened it to discover links to reports of recent sex-related murders, and her stomach churned at the sudden escalation in her research. She nearly forgot about Blessing until he forced an impatient little sigh.