by Addison Fox
Trey stood on the other side of the door, a large cardboard pizza box in hand giving off the most delicious scents. He’d changed out of his work uniform and Aisha had to mentally stop herself from staring at the low-slung jeans and broad shoulders beneath his T-shirt. “Hey.”
“Hey.” The nerves that had been constant company for the last twenty-four hours grabbed at her with frantic hands. “Thanks for picking up pizza.”
“Would I fail you on a Friday night?” Trey came in, his back straight as he walked to her kitchen. “Friday nights were made for pizza.”
It was banal conversation, the sort of meaningless words that floated between people all the time. As a psychologist, she understood it. The ways people communicated and made themselves comfortable with one another. Only now, this was anything but comfortable. It felt stilted and awkward.
This was her best friend, damn it. She wasn’t nervous around Trey. She might be wildly besotted and aware of his every move, but she wasn’t awkward. She’d left awkward behind on those slide steps years ago and hadn’t looked back. That day had changed her life. It had proved to her that the world always looked better with a friend.
And from that day forward, she’d always had Trey.
* * *
What had he done?
That thought kept Trey steady company as he walked the piping-hot pizza back to Aisha’s kitchen. Her apartment was a nice size—two bedrooms with plenty of room for her and her cat—and Trey had always felt comfortable there.
But right now?
It was like they stood on the edge of a cliff at fourteen thousand feet and the only way to navigate was some ginger sidestepping while the altitude stole your breath.
Of course, who needed a cliff when Aisha was around? She had her hair pulled up in some sort of haphazard bundle beneath a clip, loose, wispy curls falling around her face, and she wore some of the yoga pants she favored in her off-hours. The damn pants always drove him crazy, the way they hugged her hips and clung to her very attractive curves.
Seizing on a topic and off thoughts of her very fine derriere, he focused on the cat she’d rescued as a small kitten five years ago.
“Where’s Fitz?”
“Hiding. He’s in one of his moods today.”
Trey busied himself getting plates. “Why? He has nothing to complain about.”
“I don’t know,” Aisha said as Trey opened the pizza box. “But he’s in a mood. He’ll come running once he decides pizza is better than pouting.”
“Let’s eat before then.” The heavy scent of pizza was no match for the pan sitting on top of the stove. “Or we can skip dinner and go straight to dessert.”
“Just like a man.”
Unbidden, one of those stubborn images of Aisha naked dive-bombed his brain and he nearly bobbled his plate. Ignoring it and the need to reply with some smart remark, he took a seat at the kitchen table. The photos from the stack he’d shared with her were still spread out at the end, and he set down his plate, determined to stack them up.
Hell, he’d burn them if he could.
“We started our week like this and now we’re ending it the same.” Trey quickly gathered them together, then turned them over to avoid even one image staring back at them through dinner. “Not one damn thing’s changed.”
“It’s only been a few days, Trey,” she reminded him.
“And a few weeks since the discovery. The lab’s no closer to identifying the other women and the FBI’s starting to throw their weight around a bit more.”
“They want the case?”
“Oh, if you ask them, there’s no wanting anything. They have the case. I’m just the county schmo they’re keeping in their confidence in hopes they can get something out of me when they need it.”
She arched a brow. “I thought Agent Roberts was a good guy?”
“Daria keeps telling me he is and I trust her judgment, but he’s gone quiet these past few days. Makes me think he’s getting orders not to be quite so cooperative with the locals.”
Trey knew his role. His job—the one he was elected to—was to protect his constituents. They were his priority and he didn’t want to lose focus. He’d also been in law enforcement long enough to know that the Feds could take over jurisdiction as they saw fit.
But that didn’t mean he had to sit idly by, twiddling his thumbs. A killer had targeted his town. His home. And based on recent events, there was every indication the killer’s sights had turned firmly toward the Coltons. Skye’s disappearance weighed heavily on them all.
His fears may not be as acute as those of Russ and Mara, but he worried for his younger cousin and her safety. Or for any other woman unlucky enough to capture the eye of a killer.
Those photos he’d turned over indicated a ruthless predator with little intention of releasing a selected victim. There couldn’t be another.
He was determined to catch him before the unthinkable happened.
Chapter 6
Aisha wasn’t sure how it happened, but somewhere between their awkward moments when Trey arrived and the curative properties of pizza, the two of them got back on track. He’d shared his concerns over the case—and his fear they wouldn’t get to a new victim in time—and she did her best to help him focus on what they could control.
The autopsies. The hunts through any and all missing persons databases they could access. Even the basic investigative work digging into Sabrina Gilford’s and April Thomas’s last days were essential steps in finding a killer.
And then there was his proposal. It still hovered between them as distinctly as the lingering scent of pepperoni, but at least they were laughing again.
Even as both of them resolutely avoided the topic of an engagement, fake or otherwise.
“Did you make the dark chocolate brownies?”
“With the caramel filling.”
“Why’d I eat so much pizza?” Trey patted his stomach, his gaze already drifting to the pan on the stove.
Aisha nodded. “Go get ’em.”
He leaped out of his chair and nearly stumbled over a squalling Fitz, who’d taken up a corner of the rug beneath the kitchen table where he could pray for any discarded pepperoni.
“Keep dreaming, little man.” Aisha glanced down at him and when she was met with only his soulful green eyes, she snuck a small piece off her unfinished second slice. “Oh, fine.”
The cat lapped up the offering before slinking off. They’d lived together long enough that Fitz knew there wasn’t a second bite coming. If he skulked off he could at least get in the final word of waving his tail, that demonstrative appendage stuck straight up in the air.
“Is that the cat equivalent of a middle finger?” Trey asked as he took his seat.
“I’m pretty sure it is.”
“You’d think he’d be more grateful.”
“Aw, I don’t know. If I was forced to eat dry niblets, specially formulated to ensure I don’t get hairballs, I might be grumpy, too.”
“No cat equivalent to pizza?”
“Not if he hopes to see his senior years.”
“Spoken like a true health professional.”
Aisha winked at Trey before reaching for the photos he’d set aside earlier. In one of her attempts earlier that day to avoid thinking about him, she’d forced herself to look at the murders from a new angle. Although her notes still felt way too sparse to do any good, she was anxious to run a few things past him.
“Do we have to keep looking at those?” He plated one of the brownies and handed it over. “Those images are stuck in my head and aren’t going anywhere.”
Trey had worked in law enforcement a long time and she’d probed off and on through the years to make sure he was taking care of himself and not burning out. His distaste for the pictures suggested the time might have come to look a bit closer.
“You doing okay? With all this?”
“These women are dead. Have been dead for years, right there on that mountain.”
“Because of a deranged mind.”
“And it all happened right under my nose. How good am I as Bradford County sheriff if this was going on and I had no idea?”
“But a serial killer acts in shadows. Many of them go years before their crimes are discovered. These are crafty individuals who know how to hide their sickness.”
“That shouldn’t matter. This is a resort area. We get visitors from all over the world who come here to ski and enjoy the Rockies. I’m supposed to look out for them, yet somehow it’s never even hit my radar we’ve had a number of women missing here for over a decade.”
While she could understand his frustration, the sudden guilt was unexpected.
“What were you supposed to do?”
“Protect these people. Look out for them. Like my cousin Skye!” Trey pushed back from the table on those words and paced the kitchen. Agony rode his hard body, tightening the already impressive shoulders with tension and bending his spine with a sadness she’d never seen in him before.
That same agony painted him in dark lines when he turned to face her from across the kitchen. “I keep seeing those women, Aisha. And all I can picture is a call coming in that someone’s found my cousin. Battered and broken and violated beyond anything a human being should endure.”
“Oh, Trey.”
The urge to comfort overrode all else. The tension that had gripped them since dinner the night before. The fantasies she carried for him that somehow they were more than friends. Even the walls she’d erected around herself after the crash-and-burn that was her grand romance in graduate school softened at the pain she saw in her friend.
Without thinking, she went to him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. Although he was a little over six feet, her five-foot-six-inch height was tall enough to get a solid grip around him.
And she held tight.
“We’ll find her.”
A hard, empty laugh echoed at her ear as he leaned into the hug. “I’m not doubting that. I’m just scared to death of what we’re going to find.”
While she hated the reason for his upset, she couldn’t deny how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms. To wrap hers around him in return. The part of her—the one that knew it was an ongoing form of self-torture to want what you couldn’t have—knew she should pull away.
Yet she stayed.
Wrapped in those strong arms, pressed against that broad chest. Held. Cherished. Loved.
Aisha squeezed just a bit tighter before pushing her personal thoughts away to focus on Trey’s concerns. Although she didn’t want to believe his cousin was yet another victim—didn’t want to even put that sort of mental energy into the universe—Trey wasn’t wrong. All signs pointed toward an escalating killer, operating in their small corner of the world.
And it was entirely possible Skye Colton had unintentionally put herself in his crosshairs.
They stood like that for several minutes. There were a million questions Aisha wanted to ask, but she held them back. There’d be time to press and probe, gathering a clinical stance on his mental state as he battled all the forces swirling around him.
For now, she had something she could do—fully in her power—to address one of those forces.
“If the offer still stands, I’ll be your fake fiancée.”
* * *
The husky timbre of her voice still echoed against his neck where she’d whispered the words. Trey lifted his head, hardly daring to believe he’d heard her right.
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll take part in the ruse. You need all the time you can to focus on the Avalanche Killer and battling Barton Evigan shouldn’t take a single moment of that. I have a way to help and I want to do it.”
“But Aish—” He broke off as the truth of her offer sank in.
Although he’d initially asked as some sort of weird, fix-it-in-the-moment sort of solution to his problem, the reality was that having a chance to ignore the force that was his opponent for Bradford County sheriff would go a long way toward easing his mind.
And if the increasingly inappropriate thoughts about his best friend were the price he had to pay to gain that upper hand against Evigan, then he’d deal with it.
“You’re really sure?”
“Yes, I’m really sure.” Her gaze roamed over his face as if she searched for something. Seemingly satisfied, even though he had no idea what she’d found, she stepped back from their embrace. “But we have to set a few ground rules.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters, I want to make sure the ruse doesn’t hurt other people.”
“Like who?”
“First and foremost, our families.” She held up a hand before he could get into the issue of the size of his family. “Our immediate families. Your parents and sister. My mother and sister. That’s it.”
Once again, his smart, practical and—damn, yes, incredibly attractive—best friend had it right.
“What do you want to tell them?”
“The truth. We’ll be lying to everyone else, it’s the least we can do for them. Besides, they can help spread the word. If they’re in on it, they’ll help make sure as many people as possible know Barton Evigan is not only running against the solid, upstanding, experienced Sheriff Trey Colton, but he’s also running against a soon-to-be-devoted family man.”
“You’ve given this some thought.”
That gaze was back, only this time instead of mystery, he saw cold, hard fact along with a wry little light deep in that dark chocolate gaze. “Can you honestly tell me you’ve thought of much else since yesterday when you brought this whole thing up?”
“No.”
“Well, neither have I.”
“It’s just for show, Aish. We know the truth.”
“Which is why we’re going to put some ground rules in place. No dating other people while this is going on. It will fly against all you’re trying to accomplish in looking like a family man until November.”
“Fair enough.” Not like he’d been doing all that much dating lately, but her point was valid. What he didn’t expect was the gratifying shot of satisfaction at the idea she wouldn’t date anyone between now and November, either.
“I have an old ring from my grandmother we can use as the engagement ring,” Aisha continued on, oblivious to his thoughts. “And no kissing.”
“What?”
“We’re not actually engaged. We’re not going to start making out around town.”
Since his brain had fallen straight out of his head and was currently rolling around somewhere on her kitchen floor, Trey fought to keep hold of what stray thoughts he could manage. Especially since his hardened body and the brain that sat below his belt had taken over anyway at the thought of kissing Aisha. “But that’s what people expect. Grand gestures and hand-holding and canoodling.”
“Canoodling?”
“You know what I mean.”
She shook her head. “Honestly, I’m not sure I do. But we’ll do the bare minimum so no one gets suspicious. That’s all.”
Since he was at dangerous risk of overplaying his hand, he nodded and kept his comments to a minimum. “Sure. Right. No kissing.”
“I’ll call my mom later. What about your parents?”
His afternoon conversation with Bree came winging back. “They’re actually having a small picnic tomorrow. Bree and Rylan are going over and I was asked to invite you. We’ll do it then.”
“Good.” Aisha nodded, apparently satisfied they’d worked out all the particulars. “I’ll go get the ring now. It’s in my jewelry box.”
As he watched her go, Trey had to admit his fly-by-night scheme the evening before wasn’
t well thought out. It fixed his immediate situation, but he hadn’t actually reduced the number of problems currently in his life.
He might have traded in battling Barton Evigan for sheriff but he’d just gotten sexy, tempting Aisha Allen in his place.
Life was not going to get any easier.
* * *
The Colton farm just outside the city limits of Roaring Springs welcomed them as they drove through the gates to the property. Aisha had always loved coming here, the sprawling property like a second home.
Shortly after their first meeting on the slide stairs, Trey’s mother, Audrey, had called Aisha’s mother with a playdate invitation. Her mother had heard her talk nearly nonstop for two weeks over this nice boy who played with her at recess and nearly jumped at the chance to see her daughter make a new friend. LaShanna Allen had envisioned the two of them living happily ever after and, best as Aisha could tell, had been doing it ever since.
Which was why Aisha had barely gotten out of her mother’s kitchen, the woman had kept her talking so long about the fake engagement. One, Aisha knew with absolute certainty, her mother wished would become real.
And now they’d go through it again with Trey’s family.
He drove down the long, rolling drive, pulling into a space near the stables. The horses at Trey’s family farm had always held a special place in her heart. She’d been a “horse girl,” loving the animals since she could identify one in a photograph. While her mother had always done her best to support her girls’ interests, horse riding lessons had simply been out of reach.
Which had made the amazing animals at Trey’s family farm like a dream come true. One that had sprouted wings and taken flight from her very first visit when Trey’s parents had taken her out on one of the mares. Aisha was hooked and Audrey had struck up a friendship with her mother that ensured she and her sister, Tanisha, had become permanent fixtures at the Colton farm each and every summer.
“Like a dream.”
“Hmm?” Trey asked, glancing over from the driver’s seat.
“Your home. This farm. It’s always been like a dream come true to me.”