Part 6 (1/2)
”Perhaps, when the appropriate time for personal conversation is over dinner.”
”I asked for your name, not your social security card.”
”And I asked you out, and you didn't respond.”
”I've just been newly widowed.”
”So you're single.”
”Umm. . .Excuse me?”
”Back to the deal.”
”Wait.” She held her hand in front of her. ”What is your name?”
”Mrs. Carson, I'll tell you my name, after we've agreed to the deal, the one that you will say yes to, because you simply can't say no. I understand this about you, this woman who has justice and curiosity burning through her veins.” He raised one finger. ”This is why I came to your office, among other things. The first reason was to fund your pa.s.sion, get you on this supposed serial killer haunting our island and targeting people that look just like me.”
She touched her chest. ”You want me to investigate this possible serial killer?”
”Yes, and then I want you to give me your number and commit to dinner tonight.”
”Okay. No to dinner. Now, back to-”
”I came to see you. To listen to your voice. To inhale your scent. To maybe get a sense of the feel of your skin. And although, this is a bit much coming from a stranger who's just trampled into your life barely hours after your dead husband-”
”Excuse me?” Diana rose from her desk. ”This is too much.”
”And doesn't it feel good?”
”What?”
This man that sat before her was a tongue twister of sorts. Somehow he'd la.s.soed her mind, and had Diana spinning all over the place.
”Doesn't it feel good to have something be too much in your life,” he said. ”Doesn't it feel good to finally feel something vibrate through to your bones, after this boring and staggered life as a trophy wife for a heartless man?”
”You don't know me.”
”I want to.” His response exuded confidence that had energy tingling at Diana's toes. ”But first, I need your help.”
”Finding this serial killer?”
”Yes, and I want to fund the entire manhunt. I'm willing to pay for any resources you need. I'm intrigued. I'm wondering if you can really catch this man, after finding so many others.”
”You want me to go on a manhunt?”
”Yes.”
”I don't think so.”
”Interesting,” he said.
”Why?”
”Because we both know you're going after this man. You've probably already started running down clues and witnesses. So why aren't you telling me yes?”
Something doesn't feel right. He's good-looking which explains the bloated ego, but he's also pretty smart, and really good at leaning others toward his way. I can see it in the smirk on his face. He knows I would do this for him. But why would he want it done? What am I missing?
Diana had already decided to trigger a manhunt herself, but it was personal, something that she needed to solely control. This man's funding would bring up too much accountability and possibly reveal some of her illegal exploits in digging through clues. But even worse, getting into a deal with this guy might not be a good idea, although she couldn't pinpoint why.
”Detective work is not exactly my job,” she said, trying to buy herself more time to think about the deal. ”I've found criminals, and helped put many to jail, but I also lost even more, and wasted hundreds of hours on investigations that revealed nothing.”
”You're a reporter, Mrs. Carson. Of course it's your job. What I'm offering is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I'll fund you however you desire, as long as you at least try to catch the killer. I would even get this worked out with your boss, make this your main story. I have just recently bought a large part of stock with this newspaper. In a way, you could call me your boss too.”
Diana's heart thwacked against her chest. ”Why would you buy up stock in this newspaper?”
”Why not?”
”Because it doesn't explain your sudden interest in Ovid Island Newspaper.”
”It's a grand paper.” He shrugged.
”It's a small time set-up that doesn't provide half of the things that USA Today reports, which is why residents still have all the others delivered to their doorsteps.”
”I read this paper every morning.”
”Why did you buy the stock?”
”I like to own things.” He focused his gaze on Diana's face. Those eyes, golden brown with flecks of dancing emerald and sapphire, stared straight into hers. She wanted to look away, but couldn't. They claimed her, right then. He could have done whatever he wanted with her, and Diana would have been putty in his hands.
”You won't own me, whether you have all the stock or even if I agree to your deal. There's no way to own me.”
”Interesting.” He rubbed his hands together and rose from his chair. ”I'm a simple man. I don't try to take much, although I could. These murders interest me, for nothing more than to save my own life. I believe that you could help the police on this island, who basically,” he chuckled, ”Are just a bunch of buffoons.”
Diana didn't believe most of what he said. Sure, he may have been interested in finding the killer's ident.i.ty just as Diana was. But that wasn't the reason he went out of his way to ask her, and even try to buy up the company. There was something else going on in the background. He was invested way more than he cared to say.
Is he protecting someone or something? Men on this island are always committing treachery in all types of ways. What is the benefit to him, if I find the killer?
”Are you over there considering my offer, Mrs. Carson?” A blonde tendril fell over his eye. He pushed it back and crossed his big arms over his chest.
What does he do for a living? Some sort of fitness thing or maybe body building?
”I'm considering it,” she said.
”Just say yes to my deal, and yes to dinner.” He unloosened his arms and checked his watch. ”I've got to run over to the gym today, so I can be ready for our date tonight.”
”You sure you don't want to take a day off from the gym?” She looked him up and down, and could care less if he noticed. He'd walked into her office and knocked her off balance. Maybe a bit of flirting would shove him over too. He seemed like a man who needed to be in charge, craved the ability to hunt, what if he was the one that was being hunted?