Secret Admirer

  By Cynthia Eden

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are not intentional and are purely the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional.

  Copyright ©2018 by Cindy Roussos

  All rights reserved. This publication may not be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without the express written consent of the author except for the use of small quotes or excerpts used in book reviews.

  Copy-editing by: JRT Editing

  (build 4)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Secret Admirer

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About The Author

  Prologue

  Alice May barely recognized the woman in the long, white dress. The silk seemed to stretch for miles and miles, and she’d never felt anything so soft against her skin. Her hair had been artfully styled, her makeup carefully applied. Everything was ready. She was ready. Her hands tightened around her bouquet—a bouquet of blood red roses.

  The wedding would start any moment…

  Or, at least, it would start once her groom arrived.

  Alice swallowed.

  Her bridesmaids were dead silent behind her. When word had first reached them that Hugh Collins hadn’t made it to the little chapel on the edge of Savannah, Georgia, they’d just all laughed and said he must have partied too hard at his bachelor party.

  He’d be there.

  He wouldn’t miss his own wedding day.

  The door opened. She spun around, her heart jerking in her chest. “Hugh—”

  Hugh’s brother Jonathan stood in the doorway. His dark hair was no longer perfectly in place. Instead, it stuck up at odd angles, testimony to the fact that he’d been shoving his fingers through it again and again.

  Jonathan’s gaze—the same battered gold as Hugh’s—swept over the room. He jerked his head toward the avidly watching bridesmaids. “Give us a minute, would you?”

  Oh, God. Hugh wasn’t coming. He’d said he loved her, but he wasn’t coming. He’d changed his mind.

  After casting her sympathetic glances, the bridesmaids filed out. The door closed behind them with a soft click. And Alice realized she was twisting her bouquet too hard in her hands. Rose petals had fallen to the floor. They almost looked like drops of blood. “He’s not coming.” Her voice was soft, sad.

  “I can’t get him on the phone. I had a neighbor check his house. Hugh isn’t there…but, the cops were.”

  Her head whipped up. Fear raced through her. She forgot about the chapel full of people. Forgot about the growing fear that Hugh didn’t love her as much as he’d promised. She bounded toward Jonathan. “Is he okay?”

  Oh, God, they’d need to check the hospitals. Right the hell away.

  “The cops are searching for him, too.” Jonathan swallowed and his gaze darted from hers. “The neighbor—Sherry something—she said the cops wanted to arrest him.”

  A cold chill slid over her skin, but Alice heard herself give a too-high peal of laughter. “That’s ridiculous. Hugh doesn’t even get traffic tickets. Why would he possibly be arrested?” He was an engineer. A volunteer firefighter. The guy was good. Dependable.

  But Jonathan’s face remained tense. He drew in a deep breath, and his gaze slid back to her face. “Has he ever…said anything to you about our dad?”

  “Your dad?” Her eyes widened. “He died when you were kids. Hugh barely remembers him.”

  “Right.” Jonathan nodded, but his stare had become hooded.

  He’s not telling me everything.

  “Jon?” Alice whispered. “What’s happening?” Because he knew more, she could feel it.

  Jonathan shook his head. “We should leave. I don’t want you here if…” But his words trailed away.

  “I can’t leave my own wedding!”

  A rough exhale came from him. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. The cops think Hugh is on the run, and they are coming here. I don’t want you caught in this madness. You need to get out of this place before it becomes a circus.”

  He wasn’t making sense. Nothing was making sense. Her right hand held her bouquet, and her left grabbed the train of her dress. She hurried to the door just as it flew open.

  Heather Hollow, her maid of honor, stared at her with wide, stark eyes. “I just heard—on the news—” But she stopped, as if she couldn’t say more.

  “What?”

  Heather just stared at her.

  “Heather! Tell me! What did you hear?”

  “Th-there’s b-been an accident. Just down the road…A blue Mercedes SUV flipped. It was being chased by police cruisers…”

  Her heartbeat was suddenly far too loud. “Hugh drives a vehicle like that.”

  Police cruisers.

  The police had been at Hugh’s house. A blue Mercedes had flipped.

  She shoved past Heather. Rushed down the hall. Dropped her bouquet as she ran. Guests saw her. They called out, their eyes flaring in surprise, but Alice didn’t stop. She rushed to the front of the chapel.

  For such a small chapel, there were so many people crammed in there. She hadn’t wanted to get married in that place. She’d just wanted to run away with Hugh. Only the two of them. Forever. But Hugh had insisted on taking their vows in front of friends and family. He’d been so excited.

  She shoved open the chapel’s door. The sunlight hit her, too bright and hot. She was sweating in her beautiful gown, and Alice could hear the scream of sirens. She could also smell smoke in the air.

  She started running, not even caring what she looked like. Hugh was late for the wedding. Too late. He was never late. An SUV just like his had been in an accident, and she could see the smoke and flames filling the air. So close to her. She rounded the corner, and there it was. His SUV. She knew it was his because she could see the hiking sticker on the SUV’s bumper. The burning SUV.

  Alice screamed and ran forward, but hard hands grabbed her and shoved her back.

  One of the uniformed officers barked, “Ma’am, no! This scene isn’t safe!”

  “That’s my fiancé’s SUV!” Alice yelled back at him. “Where is Hugh? Where is—”

  An explosion rocked the street. The blast was hard enough to send chunks of the SUV flying into the air. Hard enough to send her sprawling back onto the concrete. The skin scraped off her palms, and her dress twisted beneath her.

  The uniformed cop reached down for her, and she could see the horror on his face. A terrible combination of horror and sympathy, and she knew he was going to say something that would wreck her. She wanted to beg him to stop, wanted him to—

  “He was in the vehicle, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

  ***

  Alice stared into the mirror. A one-way mirror in a police interrogation room. Right after the uniformed officer had told her that Hugh had been in the burning vehicle, Alice had been taken from the scene. She’d been crying, been fighting to get to the SUV and Hugh, but the cops had pushed her in the back of a patrol car. They’d taken her to the station. Left her in this room.

  Shock had moved in. A numbness that seemed to fill her every limb.

  As she stared at her reflection, Alice realized that she didn’t look like a blushing bride any longer. Mascara had smeared, and i
t lined her eyes, giving her a raccoonish appearance. Her dark hair had come out of its careful twist, and her white dress was stained with soot and dirt. Blood had dried on her hands. And Alice just kept thinking…This can’t be real.

  The door opened. Finally. She jumped from her chair, part of her thinking it would be Jonathan walking inside…the way he’d done at the chapel. He’d come in and this time, he’d tell her that everything had been a mistake. A big misunderstanding. Hugh was fine. He hadn’t been in the burning SUV.

  But Jonathan wasn’t there. A blond man with a hard jaw and glinting eyes stared at her. She could have sworn there was anger in his gaze. He wore a dark suit, and a badge was clipped to his hip.

  “Alice May?”

  She nodded. Shivered.

  “I’m FBI Agent Ryan McCall. I want you to sit down.”

  The FBI? What? “This…it’s my wedding day.”

  His gaze raked her. “I can get more clothes brought in for you.”

  She didn’t want more clothes. She wanted Hugh.

  “You should sit back down.”

  God! He’s not saying this is a mistake.

  The chair’s legs screeched across the floor as she pulled it back. Alice sat in the chair again, falling too heavily. “Please tell me that Hugh isn’t dead.”

  Agent McCall sat across from her and put a manila envelope on the small table. “Hugh Collins was in the SUV when it crashed. We weren’t able to get him out before the fire spread.” His lips thinned, then he said, “From what we can tell, he died on impact. The fire didn’t take him. Bastard got off easy.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She could feel herself choking. Why had he just called Hugh a bastard?

  Ryan McCall flipped open the manila envelope. “Do you know this woman?”

  Alice stared at the woman in the photo. Dark hair. Wide smile. Heart-shaped face. She looked a little like Alice. “N-no…”

  Ryan’s mouth tightened. “Her name is Vicki Sharpe. She was in the SUV, too.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Her dead body was found in the rear of the vehicle. After the fire was extinguished, we discovered her. She’d been stabbed in the heart, just like all of the other Secret Admirer’s victims. Because most of the fire was centered near the vehicle’s engine and front seat, Vicki was still in fairly good condition for the ID.”

  A dull ringing filled her ears. Had he just said the dead woman had been in “good condition”—wait, no, surely not. Surely, he hadn’t just said that a woman had been in the rear of the vehicle. And there was no way the agent had said that she’d been stabbed.

  Her heartbeat came faster. Even harder. Alice struggled for breath. “I don’t understand…”

  He slid another photograph toward her. “Do you know her?”

  Another woman with dark hair. Blue eyes. A small mole near her lips. “I-I saw her on the news.” Alice was shaking now. “M-Mary Ellen—”

  “Mary Ellen Jones. Another victim of the Secret Admirer.”

  The killer who’d been in the news. The killer who’d terrorized the Savannah area for the last year. He abducted women, all dark-haired, blue-eyed, unmarried women in their mid-twenties. He kept them for a while…torturing them, then when he was done playing with his prey, the killer would stab his victims in the heart before he dumped their bodies.

  The Press had dubbed him the Secret Admirer because a reporter had gotten a tip from an unidentified FBI source—that tip had revealed that the guy stalked his victims before he took them. That he sent them flowers. He talked with them online. He seduced them, and the women willingly left with him. But after he got them, after he took them away…

  The women never escaped him again.

  More photos were slid toward her. Three more women. “Why are you showing these to me?”

  “Because we found jewelry belonging to all of these women…in your fiancé’s house.”

  Alice shook her head. “That’s not right.”

  It couldn’t be right. Please, don’t be right. Please.

  “We found blood. The weapons he’d used on them.”

  Alice put her hand to chest and pressed hard.

  “Did you know?” Agent McCall’s voice seemed distorted. As if it had come from a great distance.

  Alice couldn’t look away from the photos. All of the women looked like her. Too much like her.

  “Did you know that the engagement ring you are wearing belonged to Mary Ellen Jones? It was her grandmother’s. Mary Ellen always wore it on a chain around her neck.”

  Alice’s stomach twisted. She could feel bile rising in her throat.

  “The ring is evidence, and I’m going to be taking it.”

  She was already fighting to get the ring off her finger. Only it wouldn’t come off. It had always been a little too tight.

  “Did you know he was a killer?”

  Her gaze snapped up to lock on the FBI agent. He stared at her with a cold fury.

  “Because that’s what I can’t figure out about you yet, Ms. May. You were closer to Hugh Collins than anyone else.”

  She could barely breathe.

  “Did you know what he was doing to those women? Did you know he was torturing them?” His questions battered at her. “Were you covering for him? Were you helping the sonofabitch?”

  Chapter One

  She didn’t look like a killer.

  Zander Todd swept his gaze over his neighbor, knowing that his sunglasses would hide the direction of his stare. Alice May didn’t realize that he was watching her. She didn’t know that he was cataloging every single detail about her appearance.

  Her long, thick, dark hair.

  Her heart-shaped face. Her red lips. Her high cheekbones.

  Her golden skin.

  Her long legs.

  Alice May was a looker, a woman who seemed to exude sex appeal. And, if the stories were true, if the FBI was right with their suspicions, she was also a killer. One who had managed to get away with her crimes so far.

  “What do you think, Zander?” Alice asked as she stepped away from her flower bed, brushing her hands across her hips. “Does that look okay?”

  “Fantastic.” He put an edge in his voice, one that she wouldn’t be able to overlook. Slightly flirtatious. Admiring.

  She immediately jerked her gaze toward him. Her eyes went wide. Her little pink tongue gave a nervous swipe over her lower lip. She was good at that. Good at pretending to be innocent. Uncertain.

  But the FBI brass didn’t think she was nearly as innocent as she seemed to be.

  Alice May’s fiancé had been the infamous Secret Admirer. A man who’d murdered five women before he’d been killed.

  The case should have been closed. Hugh Collins had died a year ago.

  But two months ago, the Secret Admirer had claimed another victim.

  Zander stepped closer to Alice. Her scent—light jasmine—teased him. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  He’d asked her out three times before. And every single time, Alice had shot him down. She hadn’t dated anyone since Hugh had died. Zander knew that for a fact, because the FBI had been watching her. Very, very closely.

  Alice sucked in a sharp breath and her deep blue eyes widened. “I…don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You’re seeing someone else. I get it.” But she wasn’t. Would she lie?

  Alice shook her head. “No.”

  “It’s me?” He flashed her a smile. He’d been told he had a good smile. Hell, most women found him charming. Alice didn’t seem to be like most women. “Just not that into me, huh?”

  “No—you…um, you’re very handsome.”

  He laughed at her words. Zander couldn’t help it. She’d just sounded all polite and courteous, like she was worried she’d hurt his feelings. She hadn’t. But she was making things difficult. His assignment was to get close to Alice. To get her to trust him. To get her to reveal details that she had never spilled during all of her interrogations.

 
; “Did I say something funny?” A faint furrow appeared between Alice’s brows. She wiped her dirty hands on her faded jeans. Jeans that fit her like a second skin and showed Zander that Alice was one very, very sexy woman. Long legs. High breasts. Killer smile. Not that she smiled a lot. In fact, in the two months that he’d been working as a “handy man” in the area, Zander had only been able to coax about three smiles from her full lips.

  He stilled his laughter. Gave a rueful shake of his head. “A woman as gorgeous as you probably has men lined up for miles, just waiting for her to give them a second glance.”

  “I don’t date.” Her words held a brittle edge. “I…had a bad experience once.”

  That had to be the understatement of the century, but Zander kept his expression controlled. “I’m sorry.” He made his voice gentle. “I didn’t mean to—to make you uncomfortable.” Time for his exit. If he pushed her too hard right now, Zander knew he’d lose her. He’d come out to her cabin to fix her sprinkler system. A system the FBI had sabotaged while she’d been stocking up on groceries the day before. The fix had taken all of three minutes, but it had given him an excuse to see her. To chat with her.

  Spring had finally come to the little mountain town of Sky, North Carolina, and Alice had been eager to start her planting. She’d wanted colors. Flowers. She couldn’t have any of that without her sprinkler system…The FBI made her need me again.

  Zander inclined his head toward Alice. “Have a good evening.” Then he turned on his heel. He made his steps slow and certain as he headed away from her. And he counted in his head…Five, four, three—

  Her footsteps rushed behind him.

  “Wait!” Alice’s fingers pressed to his arm. A fast touch, and then she hurriedly pulled back.

  But he whirled toward her. “Something wrong?”

  She rocked onto the balls of her feet. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “You didn’t, Alice.” Shit, now he was feeling bad. It’s just a job. Sometimes, though, when he looked too deeply into her eyes, he could forget that. And he could get lost only seeing…her. “Look, I’m not the kind to pry. Something happened in your past, and you don’t want to date. That’s your business. I understand.”