Undercover Husband Page 2

  “It’s my job,” he murmured with a quick smile. That, plus his attire of polo shirt and chinos, gave him a humanness lacking in the uniformed police officers she’d talked to thus far. Brit wished she could achieve the confidence and calm he exuded.

  “From what Diana told me on the phone, you’ve never been in this kind of a situation before. A virtual stranger has invaded your life totally unsolicited. I don’t blame you for being frightened.”

  “It’s horrible.” Her voice wobbled again. “Have you read the letters?”

  “Not yet. I only arrived a few minutes before you did. Let me look through them first. I’ll be using a tape recorder, making verbal notes. Will that bother you?”

  She’d been watching him, fascinated by his totally male aura and professional demeanor. “No. O-of course not,” she stammered.

  “Good.”

  Roman spent the next few minutes perusing the first of six letters written on lined paper a student would use.

  Brittany—

  Everyone on the tour called you Brit, but when I saw your full name on the address sheet most of the people signed, I realized that I preferred your full name and plan to call you that. It has a French origin. I know because I spent time in France several years ago.

  I have lots of pictures of you, even from behind. I recognize your backpack. What was the name of that shampoo you use? I didn’t write it down. Was it, Swiss Formula? I ordered that polka tape from the library. I’m just getting over the flu. How’s Denise? Ask her to give me her address and phone number. I want yours, too, so I don’t have to sit down and write letters.

  In regard to the stuff I’ve sent in this letter, the Salt Lake Youth Hostel was a supplemental accommodation which means it lacks one or more basic elements of a hostel. It was open when I came through Salt Lake before. It couldn’t be much more than eight miles from your place. Some of the hostels listed on the map I’ve enclosed are no longer open.

  This is what’s new. I heard yesterday that my section at work is closed until there’s more funding which reading between the lines means I’ll probably be off work longer. Tuesdays are my rest days, so I will have enjoyed fifty-three days of happiness. Waiting for your letter.

  Until later, much love,

  Glen Baird

  5972 Washington Court,

  Madison, WI 53701

  Roman read through the others and made a few brief comments into the mike, alternately appalled and fascinated by the disjointed, too intimate personal remarks interjected at random. Each letter became progressively angrier because it was obvious she hadn’t responded to anything.

  Finally he lifted his head, focusing his gaze on her once more. Brit met his level glance. Since reading the letters, his eyes seemed to have darkened a fraction.

  “You’re right. Considering that these letters are from a virtual stranger, they are terrifying.”

  “But Lieutenant Parker said—”

  “Forgive me for interrupting—” He lowered his voice. “The police get so many calls from people being harassed, it’s difficult for them to do a detailed investigation unless the situation warrants it, unless there’s an implicit threat to the victim.”

  “And my case isn’t like that.”

  “Let me finish looking at everything before I answer that question,” Roman murmured, applying himself once more to the task.

  The papers smelled of lilies. He picked up a plastic bag containing two dilapidated-looking trumpet lilies.

  “Those came in that Express Mail overnight letter this morning, along with the sympathy card. He obviously received my postcard.”

  Roman’s head flew back in consternation. “What postcard? I see no mention of it in the report.”

  “The one the investigating officer suggested I send to him, telling him I was getting married.”

  “Are you?” he fired back.

  “No. I don’t even have a boyfriend right now.”

  With a woman as intelligent and attractive as she was, it seemed a little hard to believe.

  “The officer thought a note like that might discourage him,” she continued to explain. “I picked a card with Sego Lilies on the front. They’re the state flower. I thought it would be impersonal, that he wouldn’t be able to read anything into it.”

  Roman’s lips thinned. To some weirdos, that would send up a red flag like nothing else.

  His reaction produced a moan from her. “It was the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it? I knew it.”

  “Let’s not worry about that now.”

  He picked up the sympathy card, which smelled heavily of the flowers.

  Those we hold most dear, never truly leave us.

  They live on in the kindness they showed, the comfort they shared,

  And the love they brought into our lives.

  May beautiful memories give you strength in those difficult hours ahead.

  Beneath the printed words on the inside was a line written in the man’s own hand. “I will write you no more. Forever!”

  The man writing this was acting like an adolescent who couldn’t handle rejection. Between the lines Roman could read the hurt.

  His hand reached for the letter folded inside the card. Unlike the others, this one was white type paper with pasted pieces of printed text to form the author’s macabre message. Each piece was a different shade of white, indicating he’d gotten his material from many sources.

  Brittany—

  The language of flowers may be combined and arranged to express the nicest shades of sentiment.

  Moss rosebud and myrtle a confession of love.

  White, pink, canary and laurel, your talent and perseverance will win you glory.

  Mignonette and colored daisy, your qualities surpass your charms of beauty.

  Columbine and lily, your folly and coquetry have broken the spell of your beauty.

  Did you know red rose means love, yellow rose friendship, white rose fear, pink rose indecision, green rose I’m from Mars, lily I’m dead, Crabgrass I just escaped from a mental institution, scallion I’m clueless.

  If a flower is offered reversed, its direct signification is likewise reversed so that the flower now means the opposite.

  Throughout the morass of cryptic lines, the word “lily” kept reappearing. Roman pondered the entry again.

  “‘Lily, your folly and coquetry have broken the spell of your beauty.’” He spoke out loud, feeling her eyes on him. “We can assume this was the author’s way of telling you he couldn’t handle your rejection.”

  “The postcard made him furious.” Her voice shook.

  Roman nodded. “I agree.” His gaze darted to the next lily entry. “Lily means, I’m dead.”

  His frown deepened. But it was when he reread the last line that his heart did a drop kick. “If a flower is offered reversed, its direct signification is likewise reversed so that the flower now means the opposite.”

  He raked a hand through his hair. The opposite of I am dead...

  His eyes sought the plastic bag and he opened it. Two dead lilies stared up at him. But the petals had been folded downward.

  If the flower is offered reversed, the flower now means...you’re dead.

  Roman absently tapped the paper against his cheek. This guy was definitely certifiable. But whether he was really dangerous, or just enjoyed threatening his victims, remained to be seen.

  To his shock, he was rocked by a savage, unprecedented desire to make certain the lovely woman sitting across from him wouldn’t suffer any more fear at the stranger’s hands.

  Already a plan was forming in his mind. Where the idea came from he had no clue, unless it had leaped straight from his gut. Some primeval instinct was warning him this was no ordinary case, nor she no ordinary woman. Diana had sensed the same thing when she’d begged him to take it, rather than give it to one of the other P.I.s.

  Though he doubted that this psycho would actually do more than harass her, Roman could never rule out the possibility that Baird
meant what he said. If so, Brittany Langford needed help, and she needed it now.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked in an anxious voice.

  Roman closed the file, schooling his features to show no emotion. “I need to do a little preliminary work first. Are you going home to stay?”

  “Yes—”

  “Then expect me around seven and we’ll talk.”

  “All right.” She got to her feet. “I—I’ll see you then.”

  He watched her progress from the room, unconsciously admiring the singing lines of her body while he put everything back in the drawer. With a swift motion he closed it, a little too soundly because it drew Parker’s attention.

  “Find what you were looking for?”

  “Heaven forbid, I did,” Roman ground out.

  “It’s a mail harassment case, nothing more. One of these days the guy will give up.”

  That’s why you never made chief, Parker.

  The man despised private investigators, especially Roman, the outsider from New York City. But he didn’t have the courage to call him something uncomplimentary to his face.

  “Just doing my job according to Hoyle.”

  Roman knew his response would pass over the top of Parker’s head. Maybe in six months he’d figure it out. By that time, Brittany Langford could be in serious trouble if her tormentor had the potential for menace.

  Once he returned to his office, Roman would fax Pat Flaherty in New York. Pat and he had been partners way back when life had been vastly different, when Roman was still full of noble ideas about changing the world...

  The cocky Irishman was still on the force and had active contacts who could put out feelers on Glen Baird in a matter of minutes. Roman had one concern at the moment. To find out if Baird still resided in Wisconsin.

  CHAPTER TWO

  WHEN the doorbell rang a little after seven, Brit knew it was Lieutenant Lufka. For some unaccountable reason, her heart began to hammer. She’d been counting the minutes until he arrived, wondering what conclusions he’d come to about her case.

  Oddly enough she’d been loathe to leave the police station. To leave him. He engendered such a strong feeling of safety, she found that she didn’t want to be out of his sight.

  After one brief meeting it was ridiculous to feel that way, but she couldn’t help it. The situation with Glen Baird had been going on almost a month. Her nerves were shot. It was heaven to be able to pour out her fears to someone like the Lieutenant who protected people for a living.

  She hurried across the living room and opened the door to her condo. He nodded with a hint of a smile, making her feel a little breathless.

  “Come in.” She stepped aside as he entered, then shut the door behind him. He brought the faint nip of the Fall night air with him. It mingled with the scent of the soap he used, bringing her to a strong physical awareness of him.

  Startled by this reaction, she knew she sounded too brusque when she asked him if he’d like a drink or coffee.

  “Maybe later,” he murmured, taking the upholstered chair opposite the velvet couch after she sat down.

  Brit clasped her hands nervously. “Did you find out any new information?”

  He nodded, sending her a penetrating glance. “You have every right to be alarmed.”

  She had trouble swallowing. “So what are you saying?”

  He eyed her soberly for a moment. It made her heart skip a beat. “You’re paying me your hard-earned money. This means I have to call the shots as I see them without wasting any time.”

  She could read between the lines. Perspiration broke out on her hairline. “I’m in danger, aren’t I?” Her voice shook.

  “It’s only a feeling on my part, but I believe you could be.”

  Brit moaned and stood up, rubbing her arms with her hands to get the circulation going.

  “I’ve done the preliminary work. There’s no warrant out for his arrest in any of the counties in the State of Wisconsin. But he does have a long history of disturbing the peace, disputing with his neighbors, torturing animals who’ve had the audacity to cross his path.

  “He was recently fired from his job for creating trouble with other employees and damaging some merchandise in the warehouse where he worked. His last known address was a trailer court in Madison, but he moved out of there a week ago and drove off in a vintage maroon van with everything he owned.”

  The Lieutenant had learned that much already? Brit was in awe of him, and more horrified than ever to think that lunatic wasn’t anywhere to be found.

  “I have a plan, Ms. Langford, but we’ll have to move fast.”

  Her fear was so great, she could scarcely form words. “What plan?”

  He stared at her through narrowed eyes. “The one you put into play when you sent him that postcard. In my opinion, you were given the wrong advice. But since it’s a fait accompli, we’ll turn it to our advantage.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a long shot. But if my hunch is right and he’s headed here, we’ll be able to catch him and prevent him from doing this to anyone else. If I’m wrong, and he’s just another loser who has finally tired of sending you letters because he’s become obsessed with someone else, then no harm has been done. Either way you’ll achieve peace of mind, which is my job to give you, leaving us both satisfied.”

  Peace of mind...

  That meant everything. That’s why she’d sought a private investigator in the first place, wasn’t it?

  Her womanly intuition told her that if this man couldn’t provide it, no one could.

  She lifted her head and faced him squarely. “Since those letters started coming, I have to admit I haven’t felt safe. Until something’s done about him, I’ll never feel safe again.”

  A strange silence filled the room. He rose to his full height, his intelligent eyes with their black lashes never leaving hers.

  “No plan is infallible, but the one I’ve conceived guarantees I won’t be leaving your side until the culprit is caught, or goes away for good.” He paused. “For this assignment, I’m going undercover as your husband.”

  A thrill of emotion totally foreign to Brit shot through her body. She started to tremble.

  His dark brows knit together. “Before you fall apart on me, hear me out.”

  “I’m listening,” she said in a quiet voice.

  He put his hands in his pockets, studying the refined features of her upturned face. “We don’t know if he has done this kind of thing to another woman before, but I would imagine he has.” She shuddered at the prospect. “If he has set up some elaborate scheme, it might take weeks, even months, for him to carry it out.”

  “Months?”

  He nodded. “If you recall, he told you he wouldn’t write you again. It could be a bluff, and he’s going to wait until you think he’s forgotten about you before he makes another move.

  “If that’s the case, I need a justifiable reason to be around you twenty-four hours a day. Marriage will accomplish that, protect your reputation and allow both of us to get on with other work we need to do at the same time.”

  She couldn’t argue with his reasoning.

  “On the other hand, this might be over in a matter of days. According to what you told me earlier, you are single, and don’t have a serious boyfriend. Thus it means that on your tour, no one heard mention of a man in your life, let alone a fiancé.

  “Glen Baird knows this. When he received the postcard telling him you were making plans to be married, he knew you were- lying.”

  Brit nodded.

  “Don’t forget you rejected him throughout the five week tour. Then you ignored his letters. According to the report you gave Officer Green, none of the acquaintances on your tour bus would give him your phone number. He couldn’t reach your best friend, Denise Martin, the woman who went on the tour with you. All doors were closed to him. When he finally received the postcard which told him goodbye forever, he couldn’t take the r
ejection.

  “Unfortunately, it’s my belief that your message represented something else. You betrayed him with a cheap lie, and so doing committed the unpardonable. Now you have to pay for the sin of not loving him. What we don’t know is whether or not the lilies and sympathy card represented the zenith of his rage.”

  Everything Roman Lufka was saying made a horrible kind of sense. Her stomach clenched in fear.

  He cocked his head to one side. “That’s the quandary, isn’t it? Waiting for the game to begin or be over... Isn’t that why you called my office? Because the suspense is killing you?”

  His questions demanded bald honesty from her.

  Brit nodded again, and thought she saw a glimmer of satisfaction in the depths of his eyes.

  “If he feels further retribution is necessary, then it’s only a matter of time before you’re made aware of it. He may or may not decide to come to Salt Lake. He could appear at your condo, or at work, or just follow you around for a long time, showing up at places you least expect. Though he’s probably harmless, the fact that he hasn’t yet given up on you means you’re going to continue to be frightened.”

  She was starting to feel sick to her stomach.

  “Unfortunately this is the time where most victims make their mistake. They don’t want to believe such a thing could happen, so they don’t plan ahead and often become immobilized by fear.” His voice had dropped to a lower register.

  It sent another shiver down her spine.

  “That’s where I come in. My job is to set a trap for him in case he decides to come to Salt Lake. He has already demonstrated that he’s cunning enough to trick you with the mail by sending it from various other states or even countries.

  “I hope I’m wrong, but it’s my opinion that postcard probably upset him enough to make him want to see you in person. In his twisted mind, if he can’t wring a response out of you through the mail, then he’s going to make sure you pay because he knows you didn’t tell him the truth.”