“Do you really think you know him?” Monica pressed, and her gaze was so intent on the deputy.
A grim nod. “Yeah, I do. I’d stake my life on his innocence.”
Luke barely controlled a wince. Dude really needed to be careful. “Then if I were you, I’d hope good old Lee shows up for work soon.”
Vance’s cheeks flushed, a shade lighter than his hair. “You’re lettin’ the real killer get away.”
Monica’s gaze never wavered. “No, I’m not.”
CHAPTER Seventeen
Be mine, Valentine. Monica squinted as she stared at the pages of data Ramirez had faxed over from the SSD.
Kyle West’s mother had died on Valentine’s Day. She’d been killed in a “suspicious fire” at their house.
“Suspicious, my ass,” she muttered. The stove had been turned on, and accelerant was discovered in three areas of the house. That was a whole lot more than suspicious. That was clear-cut arson.
Kyle had been eleven at the time. He’d made it out. After he’d climbed through his bedroom window, he’d run to a neighbor. But his mother hadn’t been so lucky. She’d gotten trapped when part of the den’s ceiling fell on her.
She’d burned before help could arrive.
Monica’s fingers smoothed over the grainy photo of Kyle. She died. But you got out.
And then went—where? To live with May? As she battled schizophrenia? She’d read the notes on May. When she’d been medicated, May would have seemed almost normal. But without her meds…
Seeing people who weren’t there.
Hearing voices.
What had it been like for Kyle, living with May?
She studied the arson data again and a chill skated down her spine. Okay, yeah, that was one hell of a coincidence.
Valentine’s Day. Fifteen years ago.
The same night that Hyde had pulled her out of that closet, and Romeo’s reign had ended.
Too bad she didn’t believe in coincidences.
The same night. And Romeo had been close to Gatlin, close enough for the deputies to come over and help out on the scene.
Holy hell. Monica sprang to her feet and yanked open the door. “Luke!”
He and Kenton had their heads together, staring at a computer screen. They were trying to track Lee’s car.
“Luke!” Louder this time, and with a desperate edge.
His head snapped up and he focused on her.
She took a deep breath and felt all eyes on her. “We need to talk.” Alone. There was too much tension in that office already.
He slapped Kenton on the shoulder and stalked toward her. The weight of all eyes bored down on her. So much suspicion.
Melinda walked past, gave her a slow nod. “Agent Davenport.” Ice could have dripped from those words. Actually, it did. Hell, that’s right. Lee had dated Melinda in high school. Had she been the bad break-up that sent him to Gatlin? That relationship would definitely explain the arctic blast.
But another hour had passed, and there had still been no word from Lee.
There wouldn’t be any word. She knew that.
So the other deputies could be pissed, they could be uncooperative, but it wouldn’t make a bit of difference.
Monica shut the door behind Luke. “Something you should know.” The place was so small they were almost on top of each other.
He waited. Looked strong and sexy and—
I won’t lose him. The case was about to go to end game. She wouldn’t let it explode on her, and she would not risk him.
Because if she was right, the killer would be coming for her soon, and he’d try to use Luke against her.
Think like them. Yeah, that’s what she was doing. She couldn’t turn it off, but she could use it.
Luke was her weakness, and she couldn’t afford to be weak.
Not with the killer watching.
“Kyle West’s mother died the same night that Hyde brought down the Romeo killer.”
A slight flaring of his eyes. “Bullshit.”
“Afraid not.”
He gave a soundless whistle.
“It was two counties over. Most of the deputies had been called in for backup on Romeo. The fire, um, let’s just say it didn’t get as much attention as it should have.”
“What—”
“I’m pretty sure Kyle killed his mom.” The first kill. All the signs were there. He’d started on the night that Romeo stopped killing. “I suspect he’s been killing since then. Maybe at first, his mother’s death cooled his need, and he was able to go a couple more years before he hurt anyone else… but the need would have come back.” A compulsion. That’s what some serials said they had.
The compulsion to kill.
“But Kyle West is dead,” Luke told her, speaking slowly, thoughtfully. “He’s not our guy, Monica, even if he did kill his mother.”
“I want to talk to the officer who found his body.” Another note she’d made. “The report I got said Kyle was killed in a wreck just outside of Mobile, Alabama.”
“And what, you’re thinking maybe our boy Kyle wasn’t the one who died in that crash?”
Monica gave a small shrug. As elaborate as he liked to make his crimes, the way he liked to set the stage, faking a death would be nothing to him. “Anything’s possible.”
Luke stared at her, green eyes glittering. “That’s for sure.”
I won’t lose him.
“So if Kyle is still alive, then where’s Lee Pope?” He asked the question of the hour.
“That’s what we’ve got to find out.” And time was ticking away far too quickly.
His lips parted. “Wait a minute—hold up—you’re not looking at him for the kills, are you?”
No, not at Lee. “There’s no way Lee Pope is Kyle West.” If West was the killer. And it was sure looking like he was. The SSD had tracked Martin’s cell phone and, sure enough, it had placed him in a New Orleans hospital. Not in Gatlin. “Lee Pope grew up here, people know him. They can verify his identity.”
“Sonofabitch.” Understanding dawned in that deep voice. The voice that could make her want. Make her yearn. “You think he’s a victim?”
“Anything’s possible,” she told him again, because she couldn’t be one hundred percent certain. Lee wasn’t Kyle West, and if they could find out for certain who’d died in that accident near Mobile… maybe Kyle was still in the game.
And maybe Lee was a killer. After all, he’d been in Gatlin. He could have known Saundra. And he’d been the one at that airport when Sam’s plane arrived. Lee was also the deputy who sure liked his cigars.
They were running out of time. “I need to—Luke, I really need you to trust me on this case, okay?”
“I do,” he said instantly.
But it wouldn’t be that easy. “I haven’t always been honest with you… I haven’t—I know being with me isn’t easy.”
He smiled then, a slow curve of his lips that made her heart race and her nipples tighten.
Not now. No time.
“Baby, I never said I wanted easy.”
But she had. Pity she’d never gotten that. “I-I want to give us a chance, okay?” She was fumbling this, but she had to get the words out. There wouldn’t be any more regrets for her. Not this time.
She’d be damned if she regretted anything else she did. Like she’d told Davis, there was no point looking to the past. Just don’t make the same mistakes in the future. She wouldn’t make any more mistakes with Luke.
Time to start saying just what she felt. Time to take risks and live. “I’m going to catch this killer, and then you and me… I want a real chance.” It would be hard because she was hard. She wasn’t used to trusting on a personal level.
Sure, she trusted the gang at SSD. She trusted them to keep her safe, to watch her back, but she’d never trusted them with her secrets.
Only Hyde. And now Luke.
“I wish I’d told you the truth years ago,” she whispered. If she couldn’t make it wit
h Luke, she wouldn’t make it with anyone.
His fingers brushed down her cheek and curved under her jaw. The touch heated her flesh. Just his touch, and she wanted him in the midst of hell. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
And she’d thought he hadn’t even noticed her. But then he’d crossed that room, smiled at her, and started smooth talking with that soft drawl of his.
Tempted from the first.
She rose onto her toes and kissed him. Her fingers dug into his hair, and she tasted him.
Wrong place, wrong time. Didn’t matter.
Fear rode her. The case was going to explode soon, and she didn’t want to lose him.
His tongue thrust into her mouth, and she gasped against him. That first thrust of his tongue always made her gasp as pleasure slipped through her.
Her nipples brushed his chest. Her thighs rubbed against him.
The sex during the night had been unlike anything she’d ever had before.
And she wanted more.
She’d have more.
Luke slowly lifted his lips away from hers. “Something you should know,” he managed, voice rough.
She shook her head. No, now wasn’t the time for more secrets. If he had dark deeds from his past, she wanted to hear them when they were fully alone, not there, with the chime of phones piercing the walls and the muffle of voices coming—
“For the record, hell, yeah, I’ll give us a chance when this case is over, because there’s no way I’m letting you get away again.”
Her heart stopped.
“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met,” he told her. His lips were close. Full and sexy and she wanted them back on her mouth.
But she wanted him to keep talking. Because he was giving her hope. Finally, hope.
“I’d walk through hell for you, but I won’t walk away from you, not again.” Another kiss. Hard and fierce, and she parted her lips and took his tongue and sucked and tasted.
Lust.
Love.
Luke.
Hers. Finally, hers. A man who could handle her past and make her fight for a future. Her hands curled over his shoulders. Broad, strong shoulders.
The thud of approaching footsteps reached her ears. Coming closer, closer.
Right on time.
She held the kiss a moment longer. She’d savor this. Savor him, before the world tried to take him away.
When the knock came at the door, she didn’t move. Not yet.
But Luke did. “Can I tell ’em to fuck off?”
If only.
“You have your backup gun with you, right?” She’d seen him take it out this morning. He hadn’t worn it until Sam’s disappearance, but all the agents were taking extra precautions now.
They needed to.
His brow furrowed. “Yeah, but—”
“We’re going to need it.” Because she knew a lie when she saw one. “Stay on guard,” she whispered. “Always.”
Then she left him and opened the door.
Deputy Vance Monroe stood in the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. “A-Agent Davenport, we need to talk.”
Because he’d been lying to her.
“Come inside.”
His stare darted to Luke. “Can we—can we talk alone?”
She didn’t have to look at Luke to know he’d tensed. Not going to happen. “Luke’s my partner on this case. Whatever you can tell me, you can tell him.”
Vance’s bony hands clenched into fists. “You—you’ll bring him in alive, won’t you?”
He knew where Lee was. She’d been certain of that. Monica had just waited for him to break. “I’ll do my best.”
His throat worked. “I just… he couldn’t have done it. I’m sure it’s just…”
“Where is he?” Luke asked.
“I-I can show you. You’ll never find it on your own. An old hunting cabin near the river. Broken down, but Lee took me there a few times.” He swallowed again and the rasp of his breath was loud and painful. “Said he liked to go out there to get away. It used to be his old man’s place.”
“You should have told us sooner,” Monica said. “We’ve lost valuable time.”
“I didn’t want…” His hands slowly unclasped. “I don’t want this to turn into a freak show with the media and everything, okay? I thought he’d be back. When he needs to cool off, he always goes there, but I thought he’d be back.”
But the hours were ticking by, and there was no sign of Lee.
Luke’s gaze stayed on the deputy. “How many people know about that cabin?”
“Not many. It’s far back in the woods, pretty secluded.”
Perfect hiding spot.
“Just come with me,” Vance entreated. “If he’s there, I can bring him in. I know it, he’s my friend.”
Now she met Luke’s eyes and, after a moment, he gave a slow nod.
“All right, Deputy.” She exhaled and felt the reassuring weight of her backup gun against her left ankle. “It’s your show, but if he comes out armed, all bets are off.”
She heard the click of his swallow and the quick utter of his prayer.
Come out easy.
What they always told the killers. But so often…
They came out fighting.
“Let me get the sheriff,” she said.
But Vance shook his head. “If he did this…” The guy’s skin paled even more. “If he sees the sheriff and all the deputies coming after him, I-I’m afraid of what he’ll do.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, “His old man ate his gun. I don’t want him to do the same.”
Kenton glared at the computer screen. The connection at this place was shit. He needed the files yesterday, and it was taking three minutes just for one page to load.
He wanted the autopsy records on Kyle West. Needed them. The sooner he could—
The light scent of lavender wrapped around him. “I’ve got my new phone,” Monica whispered against his ear, her breath feathering over him.
Every muscle in his body tensed. What the—
Then she was gone.
He blinked and swiveled around. Monica was heading for the door, Dante close behind her. Yeah, what else was new? Lucky bastard wouldn’t let her get far.
But… her phone?
The door swung closed behind her.
Hyde had brought Monica a new cell phone when he came down. The tech guys had torn apart her other one while they tried to track the Watchman.
Watchman. Fucking stupid name. Who’d come up with that brilliant tag?
He glanced back at the computer. The page had finally loaded on the screen in front of him.
But Kenton didn’t really care. I’ve got my new phone. He whipped out his own cell and called SSD. Ramirez should be riding desk today, doing grunt work on the case and—
“Yo.” Ramirez never bothered with ID’ing himself.
“What’s special about Monica Davenport’s new phone?”
“Uh, wanna run that by me again?”
He held on tight to his patience. If Sam were in the central office, she would have already given him the info. “I need you to check for me—find out if Monica’s new phone has a tracer.” A hunch. Because Monica’s moves were always so precise. Why tell him about the phone? Why—
A hum of sound. Then jazzy elevator music in his ears. Oh, crap, anything but—
“Got a tracer.” A hint of excitement in Jon’s voice. “One of the new ones from Development. Whether her phone is on or off, we can get a lock on her and ID her exact location.”
He jumped out of his chair. “Get a lock on her.”
“What?”
“Get a lock on her,” he repeated. “Now.”
Because Monica always had a reason. Always.
His gaze flew around the sheriff’s office. She’d wanted to slip away from the deputies, but Monica had also wanted to make sure she could be tracked.
Sonofabitc
h. She’d left him a perfect trail of breadcrumbs to follow.
They tailed the deputy’s cruiser through the backwoods. Over a sagging wooden bridge. Down muddied dirt roads.
As they went deeper into the woods, Luke noticed that Monica grew more tense. Not that he blamed her. Not one damn bit. This whole scene set his nerves on edge. The sooner they found Pope, the better.
Then he saw the cabin. Dark wood with a sloping porch and two small windows near the front. A line of wildflowers outside.
Wildflowers. What the hell?
Monica’s breath came out, hard and fast. Too fast.
“Monica?”
The deputy had stopped. His brake lights flashed as he turned off the car.
“Get your gun,” Monica said. “Get it and get ready.”
But she’d said Lee might be the victim. Wait, shit, what—
She already had her weapon out. She didn’t look at him as she said, “It’s him.” Her stare was on the wildflowers.
Vance hopped out of his car. Paced nervously.
Luke opened his door, nice and slow. He pulled his weapon, felt the reassuring weight in his hand.
Vance squared his shoulders and marched toward the cabin. He slammed his fist on the door. “Lee! Lee, come out!”
No sign of Pope.
Monica climbed from the car.
Vance spun around. “I’m checking the side, he might be there. Lee!” He raised his voice. “Man, we’ve got to talk. Come on, buddy, come out!”
He disappeared. More pounding. Maybe on a second door?
Luke eyed the cabin. No lights were on inside.
“Lee’s in there,” Monica said, her voice pitched low. “We have to get him out.” She licked her lips. “We’re gonna have to move fast. As soon as you see Vance again, I need you to—”
A gunshot fired, the explosion thundering through the quiet of the woods, and Monica stumbled back.
Then she hit the ground.
Fuck!
“No!” Luke swung his gun toward the house. He could see the tip of a rifle, poking through a now-open window. Bastard. He fired. Glass shattered. He shot again, aiming for the window. The rifle was gone.
He crouched and ran for Monica. Blood, soaking her shirt, soaking the ground around her. But she was conscious, her eyes open as she fought to rise.