A Profiler's Case for Seduction - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,58
card on Melinda’s desk. That had been as far as she’d been willing to go in an effort to stop whatever might be happening.
The truth was, in the past twenty-four hours, since she’d found that little note card on Melinda’s desk, Amanda had been afraid, afraid of her boss and afraid of Ben.
She feared what might happen to her if Melinda or Ben knew that she had suspicions about them. She’d begun to think that Melinda’s kidnapping hadn’t been real, that somehow she and Ben had plotted the whole thing.
Thinking back, during Melinda’s captivity Amanda remembered now that Ben would disappear from campus for long periods of time. Amanda couldn’t find him at his apartment; nor was he in any of his usual haunts. Had he been with Melinda? Pretending to be a kidnapper?
What she couldn’t figure out was why, but when she thought of the murders that had taken place during that time a true terror she’d never felt before seared through her.
She now breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Mark climb into his car and drive off. The dark figure that she knew was Ben disappeared into the night, either heading back to his place or to Melinda’s.
Amanda remained in the bushes for a long time, nibbling a nail as horrible thoughts went around and around in her head. She didn’t know who to trust, who to tell her crazy suspicions.
She stared back at Dora’s house. She liked Dora a lot and she knew Dora and the handsome FBI agent had something going on between them. But how could she tell Dora her suspicions when she knew what few other people knew about Dora’s relationship to Melinda?
She’d found out that Dora was Melinda’s sister just before Melinda had gone missing. Melinda had accidently slipped up and mentioned the fact at one of their late-night work sessions. As far as Amanda was concerned she and Ben were the only people on campus who knew that the two women were related.
So, talking to Dora was out of the question. Talking to anyone felt like a dangerous risk. Tears blurred her vision. She was twenty-eight years old and yet at this moment she felt like a frightened child left all alone in the dark.
She shivered in the cool night air and fought against the horrifying belief that something very bad was about to happen.
Chapter 12
Melinda Grayson sat on a stone bench beneath a tree sporting red leaves and watched in the distance as the young college students worked to build the fire pit. It was the pit that would contain not only a bonfire in three nights, but also the traditional burning at the stake of an effigy of the Everly College’s blue-clad quarterback.
The Blue Jays. What a ridiculous name for a college team; what a ridiculous mascot for a football team. Birds had such fragile little bones, so easily crushed.
She leaned back against the bench, knowing that nobody would dare approach her here. Even without her two little minions surrounding her, she didn’t worry about being interrupted by any students. Passing students might shoot her sidelong glances and shy smiles, but they respected her and perhaps feared her power too much to disrupt her moment of peace.
Speaking of minions... Her gaze was caught by the sight of Andrew Peterson walking across the campus, his shoulders hunched slightly forward as if anticipating a blow. He’d been unimaginative in bed, but a good little soldier for as long as she’d wanted him.
She thought about calling to him, just to see how long it would take to get him under her thumb again, but she’d been bored with him long before she’d kicked him to the curb.
Unfortunately, he was a weak man who might occasionally wander out into the world of illicit sex and subterfuge but ultimately would always run home to the safety of his wife and children. He certainly wasn’t a match, or in Melinda’s league at all.
Still, if she needed him again, if she wanted to have a little fun, she was confident that it would take only a few minutes to get him back under her spell once more.
A smile curved her lips as she anticipated the Friday-night fun. She always loved the homecoming bonfire and the wildness that reigned on that one night of the year. It called on a primitive wildness inside her.
On a whim she pulled her cell phone from her purse. She hadn’t spoken to her brother Samuel since the kidnapping, and she