Page 7 of Patrick’s Seduction

“What now?” Nicholas asked.

Patrick contemplated his answer. He was the boss right now. He was supposed to have all the answers, yet he didn’t. Finding a killer who seemingly had no relationship to the victim was one of the most difficult crimes to solve.

“Let’s get some people out there to check whether there are any cameras in the area, both traffic cams and private ones. There are a lot of mansions on the street leading to the entrance of the park. Most of them will have outside security cameras. If we’re lucky, they captured somebody following our victim.”

“But the cameras don’t capture a vampire’s aura.”

“I know. But we can use facial recognition to see if it’s anybody in our vampire database.”

“That’s a long shot.”

Patrick grimaced. “I know. But that’s all we’ve got right now.”

Somewhere out there, a murderous vampire was roaming the city, perhaps already looking for his next victim. And all they had was the victim’s name and a missing heart. Well, to be precise: they didn’t have the heart.

4

Fallon wanted to scream. She’d spent the better part of the afternoon at the police station closest to her apartment in Laurel Heights, trying to get somebody to listen to her, and had been handed from one police officer to the next, each one giving her a different reason as to why she couldn’t get a restraining order against Cameron. No wonder most women didn’t bother going to the police. They weren’t helpful at all. She’d been naïve thinking that they would listen to her complaint and immediately recognize that Cameron Gallagher was a danger to her. Instead, they treated her like a hysterical woman who was seeking attention. As if she was making this up!

“You’re saying your ex-boyfriend has never hit you?” the young male police officer asked for the second time, his forehead furrowed.

“As I said before,” she emphasized, forcing herself not to raise her voice, “so far, he hasn’t hurt me. But he threatened me.”

“What were his threats exactly?”

How should she describe Cameron’s threats? He’d been vague, but that hadn’t diminished the fear she’d felt when he’d lashed the cold words at her: that she was his. His what? His slave? His property? His to do with what he wanted? In that moment, she’d seen that he was capable of anything. It was a gut feeling. But if she said that to the police officer, he’d think she was overreacting.

“He said that I would regret leaving him, and that he would punish me for doing so.” Well, those weren’t his exact words, but the intent was there.

“And you have witnesses that can confirm those, uhm, threats?” The last word sounded as if he’d put quotation marks around it, making it sound just as doubtful as his facial expression underlined.

Fallon cleared her throat. “No, not exactly. He came to my lab at UCSF when everybody else was at a meeting. I was alone when he threatened me. He must have waited until everyone was gone so that he could catch me alone.”

“Hmm.” The police officer hesitated.

She knew that look. He was trying to find an excuse to palm her off on somebody else, or to get rid of her altogether so he wouldn’t be stuck with the paperwork.

“I’m telling you: Cameron is dangerous. I don’t feel safe. He knows where I work, where I live. He can get to me anytime he wants to.”

“I understand, Ms. Doyle—”

“Dr. Doyle,” she interrupted him. “So, what else do I need to do to get a restraining order? I mean, isn’t that what it’s for? To protect women like me from violent ex-boyfriends?”

The young officer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Well, in theory. If you had any proof of his violence, then we could certainly do something.”

Fallon gritted her teeth. “Damn it, he’s stalking me! Does he have to hurt me first before the police will do something to keep me safe?”

“Please calm down, Dr. Doyle.”

“Calm down?” she scoffed. Nobody had ever calmed down just because somebody had told them to calm down. On the contrary, it got her even more agitated. “I’m scared. For the last two months this man has stalked me, sent me messages, bombarded me with phone calls at all hours of the day and night, and sent me unwanted gifts. I told him it was over, but he wouldn’t give up. He’s a stalker.”

“Dr. Doyle, I know this is—”

“Officer Friedman, why don’t I take over here?” A woman dressed in civilian clothes appeared next to the police officer and put a hand on the man’s arm.

“Are you sure, detective?” Officer Friedman asked with a quizzical look on his face as he stared at the badge that hung on a lanyard around the detective’s neck.

“Yes. I’ve been assigned to assist with any stalker cases.” She looked directly at Fallon for a moment, before adding, “And this looks like it fits the criteria.”