His fingers parted her sensitive folds. His touch was gentle and skilled, quickly finding that bundle of nerves at the top of her sex that made her hips arch off the bed. She gasped as pleasure shot into her core. A low moan rumbled in Sawyer’s throat, vibrating against her stomach. Her breaths quickened in response to the tension building inside her, climbing toward something explosive, something wonderful.
“Sawyer—” Her hands slipped into his hair, curling into the short strands. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to guide him down or pull him up. Innocence warred with lust, insecurity warred with raw need.
His finger slipped inside her, a slow bold stroke. Her muscles tightened around the invasion and he whispered a reverent curse. It was the only warning she got before his mouth was on her. Pleasure ripped through her, a startled cry filling the room as his hand slipped beneath her bottom, fingertips curling into her hip, keeping her anchored right where he wanted her. Her grip on his hair tightened, holding him exactly where she wanted him.
The pressure inside her swiftly built to a crescendo. Her breaths broke into a pant, her heart hammering inside her chest as his tongue teased, tasted, and tortured her. She was going to come but she wasn’t ready for it to end. Emma wanted more. Writhing beneath him, she struggled to battle back her impending release, but she was no longer in control of her body. It belonged to Sawyer as he masterfully commanded her pleasure, and she was helpless to do anything more than ride the wave of ecstasy she’d embarked on.
“Let go, Emma.” It wasn’t a request but a husky demand.
“I want you to come with me,” she panted, struggling not to shatter.
His soft chuckle sent a humming vibration deep into her core. “There’s going to be plenty of time for that, trust me.”
She did trust him. She trusted him to take her to heaven and back, and that’s exactly what he did with his talented mouth. Emma’s release tore through her on a euphoric wave. As the tremors began to subside, she became vaguely aware of barking downstairs.
Chapter 24
Sawyer loved that dog, but honest to God, Sam couldn’t have picked a worse time to go ape-shit. Against his better judgment, he ignored the riotous barking, hoping it was just a squirrel passing through the yard, but he knew better. If Sam was riled about something, there was usually a good reason.
Seconds later, the sound of shattering glass proved his instincts were spot on. Growling a curse, Sawyer scrambled off the bed and raced into his room to grab his gun. The pain in his leg made his efforts sloppy and uncoordinated as he hit the hallway and navigated the stairs.
“What the hell was that?” Hunter asked, blowing past him, his Glock gripped tight in his hand.
“I don’t know.”
Hunter was out the front door before Sawyer reached the landing. Sam was in the living room, guarding the hole in his window. Lips curled back, the dog was all fang and snarling growls. Fragments of glass littered the large Oriental rug, and among the debris, was a rock the size of a man’s fist with a note secured around it.
Detective Gerrard
Sawyer went to the kitchen and grabbed a pair of gloves from beneath the sink. He pulled them on as he strode back to the living room. The front door opened, Hunter’s heavy steps crossing the foyer. “The taillights were too far away to make out the vehicle. It was a car, older model, but that’s all I could tell. What’s that?”
Sawyer picked up the rock and pulled the slip of paper free. Walking past his brother, he brought the evidence into the dining room and set it on the table. “It’s a rock.”
If someone was trying to scare Sawyer, he was going to have to try harder than this. He’d lived through too much shit and seen too much horror in his lifetime to be rattled by some asshole throwing a rock through his window. What pissed him off more was the interruption with Emma. Did that bastard know she was here? The thought sent a ripple of unease rushing through him.
“Aww, you got a love letter,” Hunter commented, walking up behind him.
“Jealous?”
His brother let out a humorless bark of laughter. “Always. And it was even addressed to you. How sweet.”
“I know. Thoughtful, wasn’t it?” Sawyer unfolded the piece of parchment paper and read the note. The joking sarcasm died, and anger burned through his veins like the sizzling fuse on a stick of dynamite.
She belongs to me.
“This guy is one sick bastard,” Hunter growled.
“You haven’t seen his victims.”
“He knows Emma’s here and he’s fucking with you. He’s making it personal.”
“He made this personal the moment he decided to target her.”
A feminine gasp sounded behind them and he bit back a curse. How long had she been there? Sawyer turned around to find Emma in the foyer, her attention directed at the hole in his window. She looked so small standing there, so fragile. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her back upstairs. She didn’t need to see this. Nothing good would come from her knowing a killer had been outside their door when he’d been moments from making love to her.
“What does the note say?”
He refolded the paper and set it beside the rock, then pulled off his gloves as he went over to her. “It doesn’t matter, Emma. I’m not going to let him anywhere near you.” Sawyer reached for her hand, but she pulled it away and took a cautious step back.
Her eyes were wide—frightened. But she wouldn’t be deterred.
“What does the note say, Sawyer?”
They weren’t going to get anywhere keeping secrets from each other. He expected her to be totally honest with him, and Emma deserved nothing less in return. He was getting too attached, too emotionally involved, and it was fucking with his objectivity. She was the Good Samaritan’s only surviving victim. Of course, the bastard would see it as a challenge to pit his wits against Sawyer’s. And Emma had just become the ultimate prize.
“It says ‘She belongs to me.’”
* * *
She belongs to me.
The haunting words echoed in her mind. It can’t be. It isn’t possible. The air left her lungs with a sudden whoosh, her vision blurred, and the world tilted. She stumbled to catch her balance, but Sawyer’s hand shot out and grabbed her, keeping her upright when her knees threatened to buckle.
“Emma, are you all right?”
Those words… They were the same warning Matthew had been given right before he was killed. Panic rose up to choke her. “He found me,” she mumbled numbly, her pulse thundering in her ears. “I can’t believe this is happening.” Please, God, not again.
“We don’t know that, Emma. The note was written for me.”
No it wasn’t. Sawyer may think that because his name was on the paper, but the warning was undoubtedly meant for her. How could she have been so stupid? Why had it taken her so long to make the connection? Because she hadn’t wanted to see it. But there was no denying it now. The note confirmed what she’d feared deep down—Matthew’s killer had found her.
She had to tell Sawyer. She was going to have to come clean and confess everything that happened, because he had no idea what he was getting into. Sawyer’s life was in danger, and when this nameless, faceless monster was finished with him, she would be next. He wouldn’t stop. Not until they were both dead.
She wasn’t sure she could stand to see the look on Sawyer’s face when she told him that Matthew Callahan was dead because of her and she’d been arrested for his murder. The Callahan’s had made her life a living hell in their pursuit for justice. They refused to believe her, accusing her at first of murder, then of negligence for not coming forward sooner if she’d been innocent as she’d claimed. What if Sawyer blamed her just like they did?
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
* * *
Color drained from Emma’s face as shock, fear, and disbelief played across her beautiful features in a symphony of horror. It gutted him to watch. She no longer looked at him as if she trusted him to pr
otect her. He was failing her. He’d failed her when she’d been attacked in the parking lot and he was failing her now. They both knew it.
“Hunter, will you board up that window while I take Emma to her room?”
He didn’t wait for a response before slipping his arm around her waist and ushering her upstairs. As they reached the top of the stairs, he could hear his cell ringing. After a few seconds it went silent, only to start up again. Any time his phone rang in the middle of the night, it was never with good news. He left her to go answer it, but Emma grabbed his arm to stop him, the blunt tips of her nails biting into his wrist.
“Sawyer, we need to talk.”
By the look on her face, this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. “I have to answer that.” He gently tugged his hand from her grip and headed to his room. The knot fisting in his gut twisted tighter when he saw the caller ID. “Gerrard.”
“Just got a call from dispatch. We’ve got another one.”
Sawyer closed his eyes and pinched the bridge on his nose. “Where?”
“Mears Park. Fire is already there, and forensics is meeting us.”
“Got an address?”
“221 5th Street East.”
“All right. I’m leaving right now.” He disconnected the call and quickly dressed. Grabbing his badge off the nightstand, he clipped it on his jeans before slipping into his shoulder holster and securing his Sig. Sawyer was halfway down the stairs when he realized he’d left Emma without saying goodbye. Whatever she had to say would have to wait. He had another fire to put out right now. Literally.
Chapter 25
Cade was waiting beside his car when Sawyer pulled up next to him. Firefighters were still putting out the blaze and destroying what little evidence the fire hadn’t already incinerated. BCA investigators were chomping at the bit and not looking any happier about this than he was.
“So, what do we have?” he asked Cade in way of greeting as he climbed out of the Charger and slammed the door. “Any idea who the victim is?”
“A female by the name of Evangeline Larson was reported missing by her friends at one thirty this morning. Last seen around midnight at a club downtown. This is the only missing person report to come in during the last forty-eight hours, so my money’s on her. There were twenty-six cars in the greater twin cities area that wouldn’t start though.”
Sawyer shook his head. “And yet we still got another dead girl. I told the captain this was going to happen. Our unsub just changed his hunting grounds. And he’s getting bolder. Put a rock through my living room window about an hour ago.”
Cade shot him a surprised look. “No kidding?”
“Got the rock and love note bagged in the car to prove it.”
“Another note? What’d it say?”
“She belongs to me.”
Cade’s brow shot up. “She as in Dr. Rhodes?”
He nodded, knowing where Cade’s train of thought was heading.
Taking a step closer, his partner lowered his voice. “Are you fucking the doctor?”
Were Cade not his partner and best friend, he would have throat punched the guy for asking. It was no one’s business what Sawyer did on his personal time. Except in this case, that wasn’t exactly true.
“I haven’t slept with Emma. Now tell me what you know about Larson.” he asked, changing the subject. Cade shot him a look like he didn’t quite believe him, but for the sake of their friendship he was letting it go.
“Thirty-two. Divorced. No kids. Moved to Maplewood last year after taking a promotion as a buyer for Macy’s. Friends she went out with said she complained of a headache and left early. They tried calling her to make sure she got home all right and when they couldn’t reach her, one of them went over to her house. She wasn’t there, and they called the police.”
“No one saw her drive away?”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
“Well, by the looks of this blaze, I’d guess our guy set the fire and then paid me a visit. It’ll be interesting to see if there’s Ketamine in her system and if the engine’s been tampered with. While we’re waiting for the FD to finish up, I’m going to call the office and have them start putting a file together on her.”
Sawyer dug his cell out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. “Hey, when we’re done here can you follow me to the station and then give me a ride over to the impound lot? I need to pick up Emma’s car.”
“Sure.”
Cade cracked a Redbull and took a sip as he leaned against his car, watching as the last of the flames died out. The smell of smoke and charred flesh wafted through the air. Sawyer’s stomach turned. This was one of those smells that, once it got it into your nose, it took forever to get it out. He studied his partner as the phone rang. Peterson was one hell of a homicide detective. They’d solved a lot of cases together over the last few years, but this one was by far their toughest challenge yet.
“St. Paul PD, Gloria speaking.”
“Hi, Gloria. This is Sawyer. I was wondering if you could start pulling together a dossier for me.”
“Sure, what’s the name?”
Cade flashed him his notepad that had the vic’s info scribbled on it. “Evangeline Larson. DOB—”
“I already got it.”
Fine hairs rose on the back of his neck. “What do you mean you already have it?” Impossible.
“The dossier you asked for on Dr. Emma Rhodes. I have it right here in front of me. Her birth name is Evangeline Larson.”
Sonofabitch… “Thanks, Gloria. I’ll be by in a little bit. He disconnected the call and pocketed his cell. “Cade, I gotta go follow a lead. You gonna to be all right taking point on this?”
His partner straightened, no longer looking so relaxed. Concern tightened his brows as he watched Sawyer climb into his car. “Sure. No problem. You need back up? I can call Wilson to come down and oversee forensics.”
“No. I’m good. Tell Harv to call me with the autopsy report ASAP.” He shut the door, fired up the engine, and took off for the station. On his way there, he swung by the impound lot to check out Emma’s CRV. The first thing he did when he got inside was open her glove box and search for her registration. Everything he found had Emma’s name on it. There had to be some sort of a mistake, but his gut told him the mistake had been his. The killer was connecting the dots for him because he’d been too fucking blind to see it himself. He was goddamn spoon-feeding this case to Sawyer. Why would Emma lie to him? Unless she had something to hide.
* * *
After all this time, she still didn’t recognize him. She had no fucking clue who he was. But she would. And he couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she finally put it all together. It just went to show how little she’d noticed him back then. But he’d noticed her. He remembered it like yesterday.
As he approached the gymnasium, the cadence of cheers and feminine laughter caused him to stop. His gaze cut to the thin strip of glass on the metal doors, and that’s when he saw her.
His heart stuttered, his breath freezing in his lungs. Her long mahogany hair was pulled up high in a ponytail, the wispy ends flirting with her shoulders as she bounced up and down, pom-poms high in the air. Her socks were pulled up just below her knees, the short orange and black skirt of her cheerleading uniform flashing him glimpses of her bare thighs. Her form-fitting sweater hugged her trim, shapely body, gorgeous breasts bouncing to the rhythm of—
“Push ‘em back,” clap, clap
“Hit ‘em hard” clap, clap
“Make ‘em fight” clap, clap
“For every yard.”
His mouth went dry as his dick grew hard. She was so beautiful. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as he stood there watching her cheers. He was mesmerized by her beauty, her exuberance, her grace. But he was shocked out of his reverie when the girls began heading his way. They were talking, laughing. He darted from the hallway window of the gymnasium, hoping no one saw him, and stepped behind the doors
a moment before they burst open. Six chatting, laughing cheerleaders rushed into the hallway. She was the last one to leave, and he almost called out to her, asked her name. But before he could get his lungs to work, a football player charged the girls and tossed the beauty over his shoulder, fireman-carrying her down the hall.
She let out a squeal that morphed into laughter. The sound hummed through his veins, resonating into his soul. He’d never heard a more beautiful sound in all his life and he knew in that moment, she had to be his.
He turned off Summit and headed toward Mears Park to check on his burn. He wouldn’t get too close, just enough to see how his blaze was coming along. This one was the cop’s fault. He wouldn’t have chosen her, but this was a message for Detective Gerrard—and Emma. He wasn’t fucking around anymore.
If she cared about the cop and wanted to see him survive this, she’d quit fucking him. She’d been a good girl for so long, playing by the rules and keeping her distance from any suitors. But he wouldn’t tolerate cheating. She belonged to him. His note would remind her of that.
* * *
“Where’s Sam?” Gloria asked when Sawyer stopped by her desk to pick up the dossier.
“Home sleeping. Same place I should be.”
“It’s almost daylight. Captain’s going to be pissed if he finds you here,” she warned.
“Then don’t tell him.” Sawyer gave her a teasing wink and grabbed the file, heading down the hall. He sat at his desk and cracked the seal on the manila envelope titled Emma Rhodes and pulled out the packet of papers. Only it wasn’t Emma’s life laid out before him, it was Evangeline Larson’s. Surprise swiftly morphed into anger as he read the reports—anger at Emma for lying to him, anger at the Grand Marais Police Department for their negligence in handling a murder investigation. And most of all, anger at himself for getting involved with her. His objectivity and credibility in this case had become royally fucked the moment he crawled between Evangeline Larson’s legs.
The Good Samaritan Page 15