Midnight Disclosures. Rita Herron

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      “You do believe the killer is a man?” Agent Devlin asked.

      Claire nodded.

      “He likes the attention?”

      “Yes.”

      “Do you think you could create a profile?”

      Claire nodded. “Yes, but I’ll need more information on the murders.”

      “We can give you access to police files.” Devlin paused. “We’ll also need to look at your patient files. It’s possible the killer knows you personally. He chose you because he wants to watch your reaction.”

      “Patient files are confidential,” Claire said. “I can’t let you see them and you know it, Agent Devlin.”

      Mark stood, his feet clicking across the floor impatiently. “Claire, how can you protect the sick bastard? Don’t you understand? He might be gunning for you next.”

      “First of all, we don’t know that the killer is one of my patients,” Claire said in a guarded voice, unable to admit her own fear that Mark was right, “or that he intends to do anything to me except use me to gain public attention for himself.”

      “It’s too dangerous,” Mark said. “Get someone else to cover the show.”

      “I’m not abandoning the show or running scared.” Claire stood, squaring her shoulders and angling herself to face him, although he was pacing so rapidly she couldn’t pinpoint his location in the room. “These women, the killer, they’re calling me for a reason. I have to find out why, and do what I can to help them.”

      “I don’t want you involved,” Mark said.

      “I’m already involved.”

      “But you’re too vulnerable,” Mark’s voice exploded. “For God’s sake, in your condition, I don’t know why you’re even on the radio.”

      Fury and hurt twisted in Claire’s chest. Mark had always been protective, a hero, but at one point he’d respected her work and viewed her as an equal. Now he saw her as a weak, handicapped woman.

      “I may be blind, Mark, but I’m not helpless,” Claire said, determined to prove she didn’t need his protection. And she certainly wouldn’t be controlled by a man. “I’m a professional, perfectly capable of performing my job.”

      “She’s right, Steele, she’s already involved,” Agent Devlin cut in. “We need her. The killer picked her for a reason. She may be the only one who can reach him or figure out his identity.”

      “Thank you, Agent Devlin.”

      “But he’s right, too,” Devlin said. “You are vulnerable, Dr. Kos. We don’t know if the killer has targeted you, so we’re assigning Agent Steele to work with you.”

      As some kind of bodyguard?

      Claire bristled at the silent implication. How could Mark protect her when he held the power to hurt her most of all?

      MARK HALTED, filled with a mixture of anger, fear and disbelief. Didn’t Claire realize the severity of the situation?

      Using a trained agent as a go-between or bait would be dangerous enough, but a vulnerable blind woman…

      It’s not just because she’s blind.

      Damn, the sight of her long, blond curls spilling over her shoulders and those emerald eyes that had once looked at him with passion, and now looked past him, empty and vacant, had totally wrecked his composure.

      He’d barely prepared himself to meet her again, yet to see her like this, to know she needed him but refused to acknowledge their past or the chemistry between them…

      “You can’t be serious.” Claire crossed her arms defensively. “I don’t need his protection.”

      “For God’s sake, Claire, you can’t see. You might not even know if this maniac was following you.”

      She shivered slightly, and although satisfied he’d made his point, he hated to see her frightened.

      “Then why not have a local cop or CIRP provide their own security?” Claire asked.

      “You have a problem with my credentials?” Mark’s laser-sharp voice dared her to defy his professionalism and admit his effect on her.

      “No,” Claire said tightly. “But I am wondering why you left the army.”

      “My tour of duty was up,” Mark answered, unwilling to elaborate on his reasons.

      Devlin cleared his throat. “Dr. Kos, you want to help us find this man, don’t you?”

      Claire’s hesitation spoke volumes and gnawed at Mark’s pride. Of course she did. The feisty, smart Claire he’d known had not been destroyed by her accident. She simply didn’t want to be near him.

      Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it meant that she hadn’t totally forgotten him as he’d once believed.

      “Of course.”

      “It’s an FBI matter now,” Devlin said. “But we will be working in conjunction with the local police and CIRP’s security.”

      Mark watched the sunlight catch the golden rays in her hair, the way she massaged her forehead with her long slender fingers, a gesture he’d seen so many times. He wanted to massage her temple, soothe away her worries, watch her eyes light up with passion the way they once had when he touched her.

      “Please review your files, Dr. Kos,” Devlin said. “If one of your patients fits the profile of our killer, you have to inform us.”

      “I’ll review them,” she said, although she didn’t commit any further.

      “We also need a list of any men you’re involved with,” Mark said.

      Claire swallowed. “I’m not involved with anyone at the moment.”

      A sharp pang of relief rifled through Mark, but he ignored it. “Anyone in the last, say, two years. That includes male employees where you work, neighbors, acquaintances—”

      “I get the picture.” Claire held up a hand. “Do you really think the killer is someone I know?”

      “We can’t say yet,” Agent Devlin said. “We’re gathering the same information on the victims. Who knows? We might get lucky and find a connection when we cross-check them.” Devlin’s coffee cup clattered as he placed it on the saucer. “If you think of anything, Dr. Kos, no matter how trivial, something one of the women said on the phone, something a client told you that strikes a familiar chord or a connection, please inform Agent Steele. He’ll be your contact.”

      Mark shook Devlin’s hand, agreed to stay in touch, then watched as he headed to the door. As soon as it closed behind him, Mark turned to Claire. She was facing the fireplace, her back to him, her posture rigid. He wanted to go to her, to hold her and assure her everything would be all right. СКАЧАТЬ