by Addison Fox
Trey also didn’t miss the agent’s appreciative gaze as he considered Aisha. He remained a perfect gentleman, but Trey didn’t miss the warming in the other man’s dark brown eyes.
Which pissed him the hell off.
But it was Daria’s hard cough as she stepped up to the table that distracted Trey. “Agent Roberts. Perhaps you’d like to look over the evidence.”
While there was nothing overt in her tone, Trey couldn’t help but think his trusty deputy was irritated. Mad, even, though he had nothing to go on.
Roberts snapped to attention at Daria’s suggestion, his smile growing broader as he took in those stiff shoulders. “Let’s take a look, then, Deputy Bloom.”
Daria snagged two rubber gloves from a nearby box, then handed it off. Her movements were stiff and efficient and again, Trey couldn’t hide the sense that she was pissed off about something.
“I think she likes him.”
Aisha’s voice was a whisper in his ear, low enough that no one could hear, but she might as well have shouted it for how startled he was by the news.
“What?”
Aisha tilted her head ever so slightly. “Watch.”
Trey did just that, but saw no further evidence that anyone liked anyone else. And what was this anyway? The fifth grade? Were they all jockeying for one another’s affections on the playground?
Since his own feelings for Aisha hovered a bit too close to the surface—especially that shot of He-Man testosterone when Roberts shook her hand—Trey had to admit that the playground analogy was a bit too close for comfort.
“This is a distinct break in behavior.” Roberts turned the evidence bag over in his hands. “An escalation of sorts, even though it doesn’t have that feel, either.”
“The pattern is not only different, but so distinct as to suggest a new player,” Aisha added. “A copycat maybe?”
Although skepticism had painted Stefan Roberts’s features when he’d been introduced to Aisha, Trey saw the tenor of the conversation shift. “You do much work with serial killers, Ms. Allen?”
“Not much. My work is primarily clinical in nature, but I know enough to understand the underlying psychoses involved.”
“And your take on this?”
“The abrupt change in pattern is concerning. It’s possible that the discovery of his crimes with the avalanche triggered something in him, but still.” She shook her head. “The abrupt change and the taunting of law enforcement... It’s as concerning as it is puzzling.”
“My colleagues need time to go over this, but I believe their conclusions will mirror yours.”
“Thank you.”
Roberts tapped the table. “Do you have the envelope this was delivered in?”
“No envelope,” Daria said. “The sample was in that plastic bag. All we did was add the evidence bag.”
“No notes?”
“Nope,” Trey’s deputy confirmed. “Team did take photos of the scene. I’ll go get copies of those for you.”
Aisha caught Trey’s eye before she tilted her head toward the door. “I’m going to give you time to discuss the case. I’ll be heading out.”
“Wait for me?” Trey said, the words more command than request. When he got a lone raised eyebrow for his trouble, he added a hasty, “Please.”
“Of course.”
Roberts waited until both women left before he shifted his focus. “You’ve gotten some attention here. Make sure you watch your back.”
“I will.”
“We’re here for you, Colton. We’re on the same side.”
“Are we?”
Although he knew it was tantamount to a challenge, Trey was suddenly tired of the politics and the need for diplomacy. They were in crisis and had a killer roaming free in Roaring Springs.
The time for diplomacy was at an end.
“You think we’re not?” the agent asked. The modestly congenial air he walked in with had vanished and all Trey saw in its place was a hard-ass.
Again, those warning bells went off in his head, but he didn’t care. “I think you all want to nab a madman. Your profilers want to make a fuss and show how all the investment in the Bureau pays off now that you have a target.”
“You don’t want to catch a killer?”
“I want a very serious threat out of my town. Off my streets and away from my people. I’m not interested in patterns or escalations or questions about his mental state.”
“So why the civilian consultant?” Roberts grinned. “Or should I call her your fiancée consultant?”
Trey ignored the dig, unwilling to discuss his relationship Aisha with this man. “She knows Roaring Springs and she knows human nature and I need both to solve this.”
“We want that, too, Colton. Anyone who suggests otherwise doesn’t know me.”
Trey wasn’t convinced the Bureau’s attitude was quite the same as Agent Roberts’s, but he had to work with what was in front of him. Right now, that was with an earnest agent with a job to do.
“Six women, Agent Roberts. Now a seventh. And my cousin still missing, as well.” Trey never broke his gaze. “I want it done.”
“You know the governor sent his lackey to see me a few days ago?”
“Steve Lucas pay you a visit, too?” Roberts mused. “I wonder who he hit up first.”
“He’s making the rounds, then?” Trey wondered if Agent Roberts had gotten the same push for a walk down the aisle but somehow figured Lucas knew a bit better than to overstep with the Feds.
“Sure is. The governor’s very concerned with the discovery of the bodies. Wanted to ensure this case is the Bureau’s highest priority. All that usual desperation when reelection is staring you in the face.”
Once again, Trey was forced to acknowledge the reality of the situation. He wanted to catch a killer. And everyone he came in contact with seemed to want a political win.
Six women discovered on the side of a mountain weren’t political. A woman lying dead somewhere in Roaring Springs wasn’t a pawn in the midst of some powerful people’s chess moves. And he’d be damned if his cousin Skye was going to be left to the rabid wolves, hungry for power and prestige, as the bright, shining example of how a dangerous killer was finally taken down.
They were running out of time.
What Trey couldn’t understand was why he seemed to be the only one staring at his watch.
Chapter 11
Aisha slipped into the vibrant wrap dress and considered how she was going to play the evening. Although the Colton family was still deeply upset over Skye, the hair samples sent to Trey’s office on Monday evening had been definitively proved as belonging to someone else. It hadn’t lessened the tension everyone felt, but it had gone a long way toward giving the Colton family hope.
Elated that the evidence wasn’t linked to her twin, Phoebe insisted they have a celebratory family dinner at The Chateau to officially toast Trey and Aisha’s engagement.
Which meant Aisha had spent the past hour in and out of her closet, trying on any number of outfits. The normal slacks-and-blouse routine she wore for work was too casual. A few of her more elegant cocktail dresses seemed way too formal, even with The Chateau’s perpetual air of elegance. Still, she’d admonished herself as she’d twirled in front of the floor-length mirror in her bedroom. People thought she was getting married, not going to an awards ceremony.
She’d finally stumbled upon the wrap dress she’d purchased last year for a date that had gone terribly, and in some sort of weird mental retribution, she’d shoved the outfit to the back of the closet. So now here she was, the body-hugging silk clinging to her frame in a pretty drape of lavender.
“Bad omen, Allen?” She turned to the side, checking the lines of the dress as the date resurrected itself in her mind’s eye. “Or an inspired choice to keep firmly in mind that there is no en
gagement?”
Her date had vacillated between a weird sort of pride because he’d “asked a black woman out,” and some strange sort of self-flagellation over the fact that he rarely dated. By the end of the appetizer, she’d given up on any hope the date would produce romantic prospects and began giving him free psychological advice.
A girl had to entertain herself somehow.
Fortunately, the evening was unlikely to bear a repeat, but she still had to put on a happy face and pretend to be someone she wasn’t. The Colton family had always welcomed her and now she had to smile and act as if she was going to become one of them.
The knock on her door interrupted the sudden souring in her stomach, and she snatched a small clutch from her dresser and left the bedroom, hitting the light with a firm snap. She could continue these bouts of guilt every time the subject of the engagement came up or she could do what she said she would and grin and bear it.
Trey deserved a partner who was all in on this.
A fact that had grown more insistent throughout the week when the press got hold of the news that the department received a package. A situation that had puzzled them all—Agent Roberts included—since the detail was on lockdown as they all hunted for the victim.
That hadn’t stopped the press from camping out in front of the sheriff’s station or Barton Evigan from running his mouth for any camera that’d capture his ugly mug, spouting off on what a terrible job Sheriff Colton was doing in his post.
A second note had come in late Wednesday and she’d stared at her copy of it so many times her eyes had nearly crossed. Despite having memorized every word, she still couldn’t puzzle out the meaning.
Slow like the fox.
You’d better watch out.
Evidence in a box.
Another victim, no doubt.
Aisha had spent every spare minute at the station, trying to decipher the meaning and getting nowhere. The rhyming was juvenile and the language was clumsy, as if the goal of the note was to simply put words together that made a rhyme.
And when were foxes slow? The animals were known for their stealth and burst of speed, weren’t they?
It had frustrated her and she was safe and cozy in the station house conference room. Trey and his deputies were another story. All had been out canvassing from one end of Bradford County to the other, all to no avail. Now that it was Friday, spirits had definitely dimmed that they were no closer to finding a killer or his victim.
Pushing that dismal thought from her mind, she pulled open the door. And found Trey, dressed in a sharp gray suit and red tie, standing before her.
Wow.
The word—and a sigh to match the sentiment—nearly escaped her mouth before she caught herself at the last minute.
But wow, did the man look good.
“Hi, Sheriff.”
“Hi, yourself.” He stepped through the door and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Trey’s appreciative gaze looked her over once more. “Isn’t that the dress you wore to that awful date last year?”
The hazy shimmer of attraction winked out as Trey hit on the memory she’d tried to bury along with the dress in the closet. “Great. You remember that?”
“Only because you called the man a semibigoted asshat and bitched about how much you spent on a purple dress.” He smiled, rubbing his hands. “Lucky me.”
“What? Why?”
Trey moved in close and settled his hands at her waist. “I can’t give you a worse evening. Maybe I can give you a better one.”
“You’re not starting off very well.”
The smile fell from his face. “Why?”
“You remembered that conversation. And the bad date. One of the ones I told you about, anyway.”
“You’ve had other bad dates?”
That one stopped her. “Haven’t you?”
His face had fallen, but his broad palms remained firmly planted on her waist. Aisha knew she should ignore the heat that seemed to radiate from that very spot along with the increasing urge to lean into his body.
“Well, yeah. But it’s always been the one subject we didn’t talk to each other about. I was surprised when you mentioned it last year but figured it was because you were so mad.”
As conversations went it wasn’t what she’d expected, but now that Trey had given her the opening, she was going to take it. “Why do you think that is? That we don’t talk about dating with each other.”
“Not sure. A man-woman thing. Or maybe just the one area of our lives where we felt we deserved a bit of privacy.”
She considered that. Even when she had been dating Kenneth she’d told Trey very little. For as happy as she’d believed herself to be while she was with Kenneth, something had always felt like a slight betrayal of Trey. She hadn’t actively thought about it while she was dating, but each time there was an opportunity to tell her best friend about her boyfriend, she’d chickened out.
And when the bastard had gone on to break her heart, she was secretly glad she hadn’t informed Trey about him. It was embarrassing enough to break up when you were crazy in love and you found out the man was just playing at the same. When the insult that he was married, too, got layered on top, it was a blessing to say nothing.
Not one damn word.
To this day, the only two people who knew were her sister and her grad school roommate. To anyone else who asked, she and Kenneth had simply gone their separate ways. She back to Colorado. He to a wife and, as she’d later heard, two children with a third on the way.
“Aish? You in there?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” She shook her head and tried to play it all off. “You’re probably right. It’s a man-woman thing. And just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean you don’t have a right to your privacy.”
“Sure. You’re right.” He dropped his hands and stepped back. “Privacy is a good thing.”
It might be a good thing, but now that she thought about it, privacy had also given them both an impenetrable wall neither was willing to scale. She’d known him practically her whole life and had no idea if he’d ever been in love. Or if he had a heartbreak. And he had no idea about hers.
As that idea sunk in, she pointed the door. “You ready to go?”
“Let’s do it.” He extended an arm. “Fiancée?”
Aisha threaded her arm through the crook of his. “Fiancée. And friend,” she added for good measure.
The week had been a stressful one and they were now going to what would hopefully be an evening of lighthearted fun. That was her last thought as she flipped off her apartment lights and pulled the front door closed.
* * *
Trey took a seat at the long table in The Chateau’s main dining room and looked at his assembled family seated up and down the length. His ninety-four-year-old grandfather, Earl, had been given a place of honor at the opposite head of the table, and his uncle Russ and aunt Mara given the center on one side, his parents the center on the other. Everyone had turned out, the family filling in all the spaces around them along with Aisha’s mother, sister and brother-in-law.
Which left the head of the table for him and Aisha. He leaned over and squeezed her hand. “You doing okay?”
“I’m good.” She settled a hand over the back of his chair and leaned in close. For anyone watching them, they looked as cozy and comfortable and in love as the rest of his newly married or newly engaged cousins around the table.
Only they both knew the truth.
Their conversation at her apartment still nagged at him. Why had they kept personal details from each other? She was right, of course. Being best friends didn’t mean they weren’t entitled to private thoughts or straight-up privacy.
But both of them had deliberately omitted details of their personal lives
from one another. He knew she’d had a big, bad relationship while she was in New York, but she’d never spoken of it and he’d avoided asking. In return, she knew very little, if anything, of the women he’d dated in his past. And while he might have been in a recent slump due to the pressures of his job and his increasing indifference to spending his time with women who didn’t interest him, for a long time he’d seen dating differently.
Yet they’d kept those details from each other and, as a result, had each seen that part of their lives as off-limits.
Had there been another reason?
He’d brushed it off to her as a “man-woman thing,” but maybe it was something more.
Maybe it was a “Trey-Aisha thing.”
With that thought lingering in his mind, he watched as his cousin Phoebe stood up. Her hand lingered on her fiancé’s shoulder, and Prescott’s gaze heated as he stared up at her.
“I’m so happy we could all be together tonight. We’ve had our challenges, but we’ve had our joys, as well. And tonight we have another one to celebrate.” She lifted her glass and turned to where Trey and Aisha sat. “To Trey and Aisha. The news of your engagement is the happiest of news. Aisha has always been a member of our family, but now my cousin’s going to make that official and I know I speak for all of us when I say we couldn’t be happier.”
“To Trey and Aisha!” The cheers went up, glasses clinking as each of his family members toasted their impending “marriage.”
The toasts continued throughout dinner and Trey held Aisha’s hand, the two of them smiling through each and every one. Faking their way through it all.
He’d diligently avoided looking at his mother. While she’d kept a broad smile on her face, her talk of the upcoming wedding with various family members by all appearances happy and excited, he hadn’t missed the dark looks she’d shot him. Nor had he forgotten her words of caution the prior week at their family barbecue about one of them developing feelings for each other.