"With a woman who lives not far from where Chelsea was found. She seems to be the neighborhood watcher. She sees everything that happens, and she seems to know everyone who lives there. It could prove to be a break." Mason sighed. "And Lord knows we could use one in this case."

  Meg sat, silently, until the group broke up. When she moved her gaze to her husband, that disappointed look was still there. She gave a deep sigh as Matt took her hand, leaning down into her ear. Speaking quietly so no one else would hear, he used the voice that never failed to shake her to her toes. "Come with me, young lady."

  Chapter 13

  Matt kept his arm around her as he always did when she was about to receive discipline. She went quietly, but he could feel her trembling. Leading her into the attic bedroom they shared, he closed and locked the door behind them. As he took her by the shoulders, he turned her to face him. Those big blue eyes almost made him pull her into his arms and instantly absolve her of everything, but that wouldn't help. She looked away with a whimper.

  "No, young lady. Keep your eyes on me. I'm going to strip you naked. And then you're going to sit on my lap and plead your case. You were nervous downstairs, and I suspect you didn't remember the whole story. I want to hear every detail. Don't move."

  She gulped and nodded.

  Matt pulled the chair away from the kidney-shaped desk in the corner and drew her toward it.

  "Be still, now." He deliberately made his voice gentler, and Meg pushed away tears that were creeping down her cheeks. The first thing he did was to bring her the case for her contact lenses so she could take those out. She stood quietly as he knelt down to remove her shoes and socks. Those tiny ankles were so enticing. He rose, reaching around her to unfasten her jeans. When he peeled them down, he put his hands around her waist to steady her while he waited for her to step out of them. Her sweater came next, and he unfastened her bra, leaving her only in her skimpy lace panties.

  He closed his eyes, trying to regain composure. That adorable little bottom unnerved him as nothing else about her could, clad in the sheer lace. Then, slowly taking hold of her panties, he lowered them, sliding his hand down her bottom in what was a mixture of a warning and a caress. A whimper escaped her.

  His hands were suddenly on her waist. "Come here," he said, guiding her to sit straddled on his lap, facing him. His hands slid down on both sides to cup her bottom in his hands, and he stared down into her face. She gulped, fighting back tears.

  "All right, Megan Savannah. Tell me what happened this afternoon."

  Meg shivered. "I'm so sorry."

  "I appreciate that you're sorry, princess. But right now, it's time to talk. What were you doing when the call came?"

  Meg tried to look away, and he caught her face in both hands, holding it so she had no choice but to face him.

  "Answer me."

  "I was… complaining to Stacy."

  He raised a brow. "About what?"

  "About the fact that I felt you were smothering me."

  A scowl crossed his face. "Pardon me? Explain."

  "It-it's just you hover all the time, and sometimes I feel it's unnecessary. And when the phone rang, I thought it was you calling back. You'd just left the house, and I was irritated. I didn't even look at the number. I don't know if I'd have recognized it or not. I just knew how important it was to you to answer the phone when you call, and I jerked it out of my purse and said hello."

  "And it was Heather."

  She nodded. "Matt, she sounded like a frightened child, and she wanted to know if we were all right. I just wanted to hug her."

  "Did she question you about your location?"

  She tried to look away, but he held her still. "Yes."

  "You said Stacy was nearby. Did she hear any of the conversation?"

  Meg blinked, her eyes dancing as if she tried to remember. "I don't know. When Heather asked if I'd heard about the disappearance of the other girls in the group, I grabbed my notebook and wrote down her name. Stacy took the pencil and wrote a note to make sure I didn't give away our location."

  "And did you?" His hands dropped back down to cup her bottom, and she trembled at his touch.

  She shook her head. "No," she said breathlessly. "I told her it wouldn't be safe, and I urged her not to give me hers, either. And I said I hoped she wasn't staying at home. She said she had called the office, and they only told her we weren't there. And she was so worried that we'd disappeared, too." Another tear made its way down her cheeks and dropped onto his arm.

  Matt appeared not to notice. His eyes remained on her face.

  "Did you tell her Nicole was with you?"

  Her eyes grew large, and she blinked. "Oh, Matt. I don't remember! She did ask, but I don't remember what I told her."

  He frowned. "That's precisely the reason I asked you to take notes."

  A small sob escaped, and she had trouble speaking again. "Matt, she was crying when she hung up. She said she only wanted to make sure we were safe. And I felt terrible the whole afternoon about it."

  His eyes still locked on her face, he studied her for a long time. A moment later, he brought her forward to his chest, holding her tightly. Meg cried softly into his shirt, and he felt the warmth of her tears through it. He let her cry for a few moments, before holding her back and tilting her chin upward. "I've come to a decision."

  Trembling, she met his eyes.

  "Listen to me, princess."

  Meg whimpered. "I'm listening."

  Matt struggled to keep his voice stern. "You did several things today that disturb me. You picked up the phone without checking the caller ID. But I can handle that. It's understandable. You also didn't remember to take notes on what she said, but considering that it was Heather, and she's probably as scared as you are, that's understandable, too. And since you didn't give away any information about your whereabouts, I can let that go. This time."

  Meg waited, silently, penitently.

  "What disturbs me the most is the fact that you feel my hovering over you makes you so upset that you'd pick up the phone in a rush without checking it first. You're the most important person in the world to me. I'll hover over you ten times more than I'm doing now, if I think it'll keep you safe from harm. If it bothers you, that's tough. I'll keep doing it. When this is all over, I'll allow you more freedom, but right now, I just can't. You're too precious. Do you hear me?"

  "Yes, Sir." Another tear trailed its way down. This time, he wiped it away, leaning forward to kiss the spot.

  "The other thing that bothers me is that I knew as soon as I came in the door, something was wrong. I was waiting for you to tell me then, but you didn't. Not a word. It took Stacy telling us, an hour later, before I knew. That's totally unacceptable."

  Her face crumpled into a sob, and he brought her against his chest tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head. Winding his hand through her hair, he brought her face up to his.

  "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

  "Y-yes, Sir."

  He stared down into her eyes and heaved a sigh. "This is probably not in your best interests, but I've decided not to spank you. This time."

  She sniffled. "I think I might feel better if you did."

  His slid one hand down to her bottom, giving it a squeeze. "Maybe so, but I've made the decision. However," he said, tightening his hand around her hair. When she winced, he continued. "I will tell you this. The next time you break a rule pertaining to your safety—any of them—your little bottom will pay a hefty price. And it'll feel more than just my hand and the paddle. It may feel the strap and the cane. Hear me?"

  She gulped, and her eyes widened. "Yes, Sir." The tears she'd been fighting to hold back, losing the battle, came in a flood, and Matt held her tightly. Finally, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Climbing in behind her, he pressed her back against his chest. "Shh. You're forgiven, princess. Close your eyes and sleep now."

  The shaking in her shoulders finally slowed to a stop, and he knew she had stopped crying and had fallen asleep. Rising, he moved to the chair and laid his jacket over it Then, he paused, feeling something in his shirt pocket.

  It was the photograph he'd borrowed from Nicole, of all the girls in their group at the prom. He turned it over, to see the names she had scribbled on it. Chelsea, Hannah, Andrea, he recognized. She really hadn't changed much. Amber, Heather, Mellie. Nicole stood next to her, and on the end, was his darling little princess, with a big smile on her face, as if she hadn't a care in the world.

  Anger welled up in him that someone would dare to stalk her, to threaten her. How could he fight for her if he didn't where the threats came from?

  A thought occurred to him, and he quietly moved over to check on Meg. Leaning over her, he watched her rhythmic breathing. Her sleep was fretful, and he spoke softly to her, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

  "Sleep well, princess," he whispered. "I'll be right back."

  He found Stacy in the kitchen, who shoved two cups of coffee into his hands and directed him to the study.

  "Here. One's for Mason. He's in the study, down the hall and to the left."

  He found Mason sitting at the desk when he got there. There were papers spread out everywhere, and he was staring from one to the next.

  Matt tapped on the door. "All right if I come in?"

  Mason chuckled. "Only because you're bearing coffee. At least I hope one of those is for me."

  Matt handed him a cup, nodding. "I have a question. You said you have an interview with the woman on Country Club Lane tomorrow. I'd like to go with you."

  Mason's face took on a frown as he twisted his mouth in thought. "I suppose if no one knows about it," he added, leaning forward, "and that includes headquarters, it might be all right."

  "They won't hear it from me. I won't even tell Meg where I'm going. She'll accuse me of hovering even more than I already am."

  Mason shook his head. "I hear you. Stacy thinks I am, too, and I suppose she's right."

  "Do you think she's being stalked?"

  Mason leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head and stretching. "I don't know. You likely don't know about this, but she dated Johnny Barrenger, the captain of the football team some, in the tenth grade. He even gave her a ring for Christmas that year. Not his class ring, but a nice one, as a gift. Woods—or someone—actually slipped a death threat into her locker, telling her she'd better stop seeing him, or she'd seen her last Christmas." He paused, staring down at the pile of papers on his desk. "She thought it was Woods, and if it was, and if this turns out to be related to the rest of this case, it may possibly put her in danger, too."

  "Have you interviewed Barrenger?"

  Mason nodded. "I have. Had to go all the way to St Louis to do it, and what I came away with was inconclusive. It was a love-hate kind of relationship. I also spoke with two of her other husbands. They pretty much told me the same thing. The fourth, I haven't been able to locate. I tried to reach her this week, but her answering machine said she's visiting a friend out of town for a few days. She's supposed to be back early next week. If it helps any, the FBI is on this, too. But they want it to remain quiet. So, here we are. I've also requested records from the high school counselors on all the girls. And you might not like this, but that includes Megan."

  Matt leveled a gaze at him. "I don't. But I suppose it's understandable."

  Mason leaned forward on his desk, returning his glare. "At this point, I'm grasping at straws. There isn't much choice, and we're struggling to preempt the perpetrator's next move." He threw up his hands. "I don't know what else to do."

  Matt's glare had softened. "You're right. There isn't much choice. Do what you have to do."

  Mason leaned back in his chair with a sigh, transferring his gaze to darkness outside the window.

  "Sometimes," he said, "I hate this job."

  Matt nodded, frowning. "I need to go check on Meg. Let me know in the morning when you want to leave." He left Mason, staring down at the myriad of papers on his desk, and stepped out.

  Meg had been tossing fitfully when he came back upstairs. He discarded his clothes quickly and climbed in behind her, wrapping himself around her. "Rest, princess. I'm here."

  She calmed instantly, relaxing against him as her breathing slowed and became quiet again.

  "That's my girl," he whispered.

  Chapter 14

  Meg awakened the next morning and glanced around the darkened room. Matt's side of the bed was still warm; she knew he'd been there recently. The sun was coming up; she could see it through the window.

  "Matt?"

  No answer.

  She sat up and scooted over to the edge, plopping her legs over the side. It was difficult to see anything in the darkened room without her glasses. It dawned on her that she'd left her purse downstairs when Matt had brought her up the evening before. She stumbled over something in the floor but managed to right herself as she made her way to the switch on the wall.

  She flipped the switch and the room lit up. When she turned back to look at the floor, she realized what she'd tripped over was her sneakers.

  Where were her contact lenses? She'd given them to Matt the evening before. The wisdom of him wanting to keep her glasses with her suddenly hit her. She couldn't see well enough to find the little case she'd put her contacts in. She spied something on the floor in the center of the room and realized it was her clothes. The chair he'd pulled away from the desk was still there. She made her way to the highboy and found a scanty pair of panties and a bra and a sweater to go with it. The jeans, she did not find, so she ended up picking up the ones he'd stripped off of herself last night. They felt slightly looser than they usually did when she pulled them up and fastened them.

  She moved to the vanity to look for her contacts but didn't find them. The desk was next. With a sigh, she opened the door to the hallway and located the banister to start downstairs.

  It was a journey to make it all the way down to the ground floor without being able to see.

  She was nearing the bottom, when she heard male voices. Matt and Mason were talking, and their voices sounded deep and apprehensive. She found the bottom step and put her foot out further to see if that had indeed been the last step. It was.

  "Princess?" Matt called from the kitchen.

  "Yes. I couldn't find my contacts."

  "Don't move," he instructed, a hint of sternness in his voice. "I'll bring your glasses." He brought her purse, a moment later. "I can't believe you came all the way down the steps without them." A second later, he found her case and opened it. "Here you go. Your contacts are on the left side of the vanity."

  She took her glasses from him and put them on. "Oh, thank you. I didn't see them."

  He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Coffee, princess?"

  "I would love some. But I can make it."

  "It's already made. Have a seat. I'll get it for you." His hand slid to the small of her back, guiding her to the kitchen, where Mason sat, waiting.

  The lieutenant smiled at her. "How much of our conversation did you hear?"

  She blinked. "None of it, sir. Why?"

  "I'll tell you," he said, watching as Matt set a cup down in front of her. "I'm taking your husband with me today to do an interview. Possibly two."

  Meg stared across at him. "Is it something I shouldn't know about?"

  He chuckled. "Yes. And something you definitely shouldn't repeat. To anyone, even Nicole."

  She nodded. "I won't." She paused. "Will you tell me about what's said in them?"

  Mason sat quietly for a moment. "If I can," he said finally. "Listen, Meg. I have something to explain to you, and I hope you won't be upset."

  Meg set her cup down and leaned back, glancing up at Matt. "I'm listening."

  Mason set his down as well. "There are only four of you left. You, Nicole, Heather Hicks, and Andrea Woods. The FBI is wondering if it's not one of you, and my job—"

  "Is to investigate us." She finished for him, staring him in the face. "I understand. I've been wondering the same thing. But is it necessary to take Matt with you to do it?"

  "Your husband has the most interest in finding out who's threatening you," Mason said firmly. "He also treated Chelsea when she was brought in. But this is between you and him. If you strongly object to it, I won't ask him to go."

  Meg was quiet. How could she object to his going when it might get at the truth? She knew she wasn't the one doing this, but would he and Mason be able to prove it? What if they couldn't? She felt Matt's hand move up her back to massage her neck.

  "Say the word, princess, and I won't go."

  Leaning over against him, she felt his arms go around her. There was nothing so encouraging as being in his arms.

  "Go," she whispered. "As long as someone will keep me informed about what you find?"

  It was Mason who answered. "We'll do our best," he said.

  Matt turned toward Mason. "I want you to understand something. The reason I'm here is to take care of Meg. If it weren't, I'd be at work. I won't be leaving her for long periods of time. And I won't leave her alone. I want to make that clear."

  Mason glanced from one to the other. "I'll remember that."

  Meg went back up the stairs to shower with a heaviness on her shoulders that was unexplainable. This was a twist. Her husband, her constant supporter and her best friend, was now in the position of investigating her. A dig deep into her heart was so strong, it hurt. Before she met Matt, she'd managed, with her lack of good vision. It was just how things were.

  When she'd begun seeing him, it was so nice to have someone concerned about her. She hadn't even minded when he put boundaries on her, although she did fight against them some at first. But Matt's very nature was as a caregiver, and he watched over her like a mother hen. Her vision was barely good enough to have a driver's license, but the truth was she almost never needed to drive. With their schedules, they almost always went the same places together.

 

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