More Than a Lawman

by Anna J. Stewart

  Her entire body seemed to have gone stiff. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

  “You could have fooled me,” Cole joked even as his heart fractured. He knew she viewed sex as little more than an urge that needed satisfying every so often. Had he been fooling himself to think this could be more than a roll in the sheets? He wanted her. All of her. And not just for tonight or tomorrow. “There’s no obligation here, Eden,” he lied. “And I don’t mean to confuse you. But I thought you had a right to know.”

  “I—” She shifted under him, as if seeking escape, but she held fast, some of the tension faded from her body. “Cole, why—”

  He kissed her, kept kissing her until he told her, “At some point you have to accept you’re worthy of being loved, Eden. That you don’t have to spend your life alone.”

  “This wasn’t about a life. It was about tonight.” A solitary tear escaped her control and slipped down her cheek. “It was about a moment and not—” She broke off.

  “Not what?”

  “Not having regrets.”

  “Are you saying you would have regretted not sleeping with me?” He smoothed a hand down her spine and paused in the curve above her butt. “Because I think that means you’re closer to being in love with me than you realize.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her tears drying as she skimmed her fingers over his lips. “Please don’t let me hurt you.”

  “Then how about this.” He settled her over him. He slipped his hands up toward her breasts, hoping to distract her from whatever inner demons were coming between them. “For now, this is enough.”

  She arched her back and then began to move, setting a scorching pace.

  For now, it would have to be.

  Chapter 16

  Eden awoke with a start. “Oh my God.” She bolted up, shoved her hair out of her face. Bare threads of sunlight filtered in through the collection of small circular windows above the bed. “It was a van.”

  “No. It’s a boat. In fact, it’s a Craftsman 280,” Cole groaned and rolled over onto his side. “Eden, some things you’ll just have to accept.”

  “Funny. But no, I meant in the parking lot. That shiny white image I couldn’t make out the night he took me.” She slapped at Cole’s roaming hands before climbing over him and out of bed. “It was one of those big blood donor vans that travel around. And there was this enormous blood drop on the back end.” She searched the floor for something to wear, grabbed his T-shirt because it was closest and tugged it on. “White and red. Glossy, almost wet looking. I need to find that logo.”

  “Eden, it’s...” He picked up his phone. “It’s not even six yet.”

  “Think about that next time you go for round three.” She planted her hands on the mattress and looked down at him. She’d never seen a sexier sight in her life than Cole Delaney the morning after. She kissed him quickly, avoiding his hands as they reached for her again. “If we catch the Iceman, we’ll have more time for play.”

  “There’s a bit of motivation I hadn’t considered.” He dragged himself up. “Can I at least have a shower and some coffee first?”

  “You shower. I’ll get your coffee.”

  She darted out of the room and went straight to the kitchen.

  While his coffee brewed, she booted up her computer, doing everything she could to stop herself from dwelling on Cole’s admission last night. He loved her. Loved. Her.

  The idea shouldn’t paralyze her, shouldn’t make her shiver as if the grim reaper himself had draped her in his chilly cloak. Eden pressed her fingers into her temples. Love wasn’t supposed to be a part of this. It couldn’t be.

  Eden had spent most of her life avoiding the word, not to mention the feeling. She didn’t say it; she’d spent years learning not to even think it.

  Love was important for Cole. The word, the emotion, the expression, were vital to his life. And while part of her thrilled at the idea of being loved by him, how could she take the chance? Everyone she’d ever loved was dead. First Chloe, then her parents, then Logan.

  In her experience love was never the beginning; it was always the end. The second she thought it, the second she felt it, she’d lose. They’d lose. But how could she say no to Cole?

  How could she deny to herself what she was feeling?

  “You’re thinking overtime again, I see.”

  Eden glanced over her shoulder as he joined her in the galley. Stark naked. She couldn’t help it. She grinned. “Nice outfit.”

  “Thought you might appreciate it.” He pulled his mug free. “Besides, I couldn’t find my pants.” He sipped and reached out for her with his free hand. “Come here.” He tugged her close and kissed her to the point she’d forgotten what she’d been worrying over. “Join me in the shower?”

  “It’s not very big.” She pressed her hand flat over his heart.

  “Neither is the water heater.” He nibbled his way down the side of her neck. “I’ve always wanted to test just how long it would take to run out.”

  “Cole—” Wow, when had she become so...wanton?

  “I bet some steam would help you remember more about that van you saw.” He stepped back, set his mug down and wrapped his arms around her, pressed his mouth to hers. “Let’s get that mind of yours all nice and scrubbed, shall we?”

  “It’s not my mind you’re interested in at the moment.” She laughed and set the mounting doubts and fear aside. And then they were in the bathroom and he was pulling her shirt off. “Okay, you win.” She stepped into the shower with him as he turned on the water. “Scrub away.”

  * * *

  Half-dressed, Eden dug through her suitcase and searched for her zip-front sweatshirt. One of the valley’s unpredictable temperature drops meant they were in for a cooler-than-usual spring day. Shirts were tossed aside, jeans, errant socks, underwear scattered over the guest room floor.

  A gentle metal clink, followed by the tinny notes of Swan Lake, echoed from her bag.

  Eden’s throat tightened, and the memory of her friend’s face when she’d opened that birthday gift flashed behind her tightly closed eyes. Steeling herself, she lifted the music box out of the bag, watched the tines pluck against the wheel. Twenty years. It seemed like just yesterday they were mere kids. Logan, Allie... Cole. When the tune wore down, she clicked the box shut.

  Only then did she see the small folded card that had fallen out.

  She stopped in her tracks. It was then the smell caught her nose. Sweet. Sickly sweet. Cotton candy.

  Cole arrived with another cup of coffee. “Here. Thought you could use—”

  “It wasn’t the Iceman.” Eden struggled to make every syllable count. The last few days shifted in her mind as she struggled to comprehend.

  “It wasn’t the Iceman what? Come on, Eden, you’re white as a sheet.” He set the mug down and walked over to her, but she pointed to her bag.

  “In there. The note card.” The same stationery as the one that had been delivered with the flowers.

  The same one Allie had received at her office.

  Cole unfolded the paper. She watched his jaw clench as he read the contents. “‘Happy Anniversary.’”

  “It wasn’t him. The Iceman didn’t break into my home the other night,” Eden breathed even as she fought for oxygen. “The candle in the basement, the way nothing else seemed to have been touched. He wanted me to know he’d been there. This wasn’t about the Iceman murders. This was about Chloe.”

  “You don’t know—”

  “I keep that box next to my bed, Cole.” She gripped his arm and willed him to understand. “Wherever I’ve lived since she was killed, it goes by my bed. I play it when I can’t sleep. When I need to remind myself why I do what I do. But the other day, after I got home from the hospital, it was on my dresser. I
thought maybe Allie had moved it or even you had.” She held her breath, waiting for the familiar argument to begin, but it never happened. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “I do.” He held the card by the edges and used his free hand to touch her cheek. “I do, Eden. I’m going to get this to evidence. Have them compare it to the one Allie was sent. And Simone.”

  “It’ll match.”

  He wrapped his arm around her, drew her in, and for a second she let herself lean on him, draw strength from him. Need him.

  She clung to him, surrendered again, because she was safe. Because he had been and always would be her one constant. She squeezed her eyes shut, ordering herself not to be greedy; not to take too much, too soon.

  Needing anyone—needing him—would only mean pain for both of them in the long run. Being with him last night and again this morning, waking up in his bed, looking into his eyes first thing showed her what was possible.

  And just how much more she had to lose.

  “We’ll get him, Eden.” He brushed a kiss against her temple. “He won’t hurt you or Simone or Allie. I promise.”

  But for the first time, Eden wasn’t sure she believed him.

  * * *

  “You okay?” Cole asked as he parked the car and plugged his phone into the charger.

  “I’m fine.” What else could she say? Besides, it wasn’t as if Eden St. Claire ever admitted fear. Or defeat. “Hopefully we’ll have better luck with this group.”

  “We should,” Cole agreed. “This support group was at the top of Dr. Tanner’s list. Largest number of members, and it’s been around for almost a decade.”

  Eden walked beside him, down the narrow hallway of the community center just off Q and Twenty-Third. “Jack’s investigating the other two?”

  “Supposedly. I’d hoped to check in with him earlier, but someone distracted me.”

  Just as he was trying to do for her now.

  “You’re the one who wanted to buddy up to save water.” Humor, she told herself, would see her through despite whatever doubts crept in. Back on the case now, where she didn’t have to think about Chloe’s killer or Cole and her feelings...well, Cole.

  Since seeing Mr. Sexy Cop mussed and tousled in bed wasn’t enough, she’d watched him shave clad in nothing but a low-riding towel. And it wasn’t even her birthday. Her brain wasn’t large enough to compartmentalize all this. “On the bright side, we can now confirm it takes well over a half hour to drain the hot water tank dry.”

  Cole chuckled. “Meeting room’s up here. I’ll call when we get back to the car.” He poked his head in the open doorway and knocked on the frame. “Jenna Batsakis?”

  “Yes?” The whir of a mechanized wheelchair buzzed as a young woman spun to face them. Slight, frail even, with a spring-yellow dress, matching sweater and tumbling dark curls, she smiled wide and looked doll-like. “May I help you?”

  Eden glanced around the outdated yet neat and clean room. Two young men arranged cushioned folding chairs into a large circle in the center, while another set up coffee cups and a coffeemaker on a table by the window.

  “Detective Cole Delaney.” He showed Jenna his badge. “This is Eden St. Claire. We’d like to ask you some questions about the support group you run here at the center?”

  “Oh?” She glanced at Eden as if she was trying to remember her from somewhere. “Professionally or has one of you been diagnosed with a blood disorder?”

  “No, I’m afraid this is in reference to a case we’re working on.”

  “A case? Eden on Ice?” Jenna flipped the toggle on her chair and she shot forward. “I thought I recognized your name.” She extended her hand. “I’m a bit of a crime junkie. Spending as much time as I do in and out of the hospital, I’m always looking for interesting reading. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Are we interrupting?”

  “No, no. Our next meeting isn’t until this afternoon. I’ve been cooped up for the last couple of weeks, so when I’m set free, I don’t let grass grow under my wheels. Please, have a seat. Thanks, guys!” she called out to her helpers as they headed out. “I can’t imagine I’ll be of any assistance to you, but I’m happy to try.” She folded her thin hands in her lap.

  “Dr. Tanner at the Sanguinem Clinic suggested we speak with you. She said you’ve dealt with a number of patients and their family members over the years.”

  “Avery, of course. Yes. I was a patient of theirs once upon a time.”

  “You aren’t any longer?” Eden asked.

  “No.” Her smile never even dipped. “They’d exhausted all treatment options for my condition. I’m afraid the only hope for me now is a bone marrow transplant, and despite having a donor, that isn’t looking promising. My current doctors agree I seem to be past the point of being able to tolerate such a severe procedure.”

  “Forgive me, but you don’t seem too upset by that,” Cole said. Eden marveled. He had such a way with people; he put them at ease almost immediately. How she envied that.

  “Why would I be?” Jenna looked truly baffled at the notion. “I’m twenty-six years old, Detective. I was diagnosed with paroxysmal nocturnal hemoglobinuria shortly after I was born. Truth be told, I wasn’t supposed to see my fifth birthday, so I’m not about to complain now that I’ve had twenty-plus more of them.”

  Eden shifted uncomfortably. And she was whining about her problems? What right did she have to be afraid of a little four-letter word compared with what this young woman was going through?

  “When did you form Aima? That’s Greek for blood, isn’t it?” Cole asked.

  “Yes, it is. My mother’s idea, actually.” She gestured to three framed photographs hanging about a small desk in the corner. “After years of volunteering at St. Augustus, she understood how a group like this could work. I took it over after she died. She called Aima her silver lining.”

  “Do any of these names look familiar to you?” Cole pulled out the list he’d written and handed it to her.

  Jenna scanned the names. “One or two. But I can’t be certain if it’s from the group or from one of the other facilities I’ve been treated at. I meet a lot of people.”

  “That’s kind of what we’re counting on,” Eden said. “What type of people come to your meetings?”

  “Anyone who’s dealing with their own health issues or those of a loved one. Having a support system when dealing with any chronic illness is vital, especially if that patient is a child. It’s not pretty.” She tugged the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands. “Do you mind me asking which case you’re working on?”

  “The Iceman,” Eden said before Cole could decide. “We’re exploring the theory the killings are somehow connected to his victims’ blood.”

  Jenna blinked, her already pale face going gray. “I don’t understand. How could they be?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Cole said, brushing his fingers lightly against Eden’s knee as if to tell her to ease off. “Have you had any newcomers to the group lately? Or someone drop out all of a sudden?”

  “Ah.” Jenna clutched the collar of her sweater at her throat. “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you. As I said, I’ve been in the hospital for almost a month. Blood clots.” She stretched her frail legs out. “Completely unpredictable. I was reading up on your blog, actually, Ms. St. Claire. Did...?” Jenna drew in a shuddering breath. “Did he take your blood, as well?”

  “Some of it,” Eden said. “My doctors seem to think I didn’t have what he’s looking for.”

  “And what would that be?” A blind person would have been able to tell Jenna was shaking. Eden’s heart began to pound.

  “Iron.” Now it was Cole’s turn to surprise Eden. “Are you all right, Jenna? You seem a little nervous all of a sudden.”

  “Fine. I�
�m fine. Iron, you say?” Her voice trembled.

  “Yes. All the victims had been treated for varying degrees of DIOS.”

  “I see.” Jenna swallowed and nodded. “I assume many of them also donated blood frequently. That’s one of the recommended treatments normally.”

  “According to their medical records, yes.” Cole angled a glance at Eden.

  “Is there someone who oversees the Aima meetings when you aren’t able to, Jenna?” Eden reached out and touched the young woman’s shoulder. “A friend or family member?”

  “Um, no.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “No. We haven’t been having them while I’ve been ill. I’m afraid it’s just me.”

  Eden didn’t buy it. It was obvious how much this group meant to Jenna. She wouldn’t take a chance and let it flounder without her. She’d have a contingency in place.

  “And how do you let your members know a meeting’s been canceled?” Cole asked.

  “We post it on the community center’s website and the staff puts a notice on the board. Most of my regulars know to double-check before making the drive downtown. I’m sorry—is there anything else? I’m suddenly not feeling very well.”

  “That’ll be all for now. Would you like us to call someone for you?” Cole asked as she pushed her chair forward and around.

  “I’m just going to lie down in the spare room for a while.” She was almost to the door when she spun back around. “D-do you know why he’s taking their blood, Detective?”

  “We’d only be speculating, Jenna. We think he could be experimenting with it. Looking for a cure for himself.”

  “Or for someone he loves,” Eden added.

  Jenna’s gaze flew to hers. “That would still make what he’s doing wrong,” she whispered, and in that instant, Eden knew.

  “Yes,” Eden said. “It would.”

  Jenna nodded and zoomed away.

  Eden tugged Cole from the room and they exited the building. Fast.

  “Um, Cole? Did we just hit the jackpot?”

  “So much so our next stop should be Vegas. Give me your phone.” He held out his hand as they hurried to the car. He dialed. “Yeah, Jack, it’s me,” he said into the cell and skidded to a stop. He signaled to Eden. “Wait—what?” Now it was his turn to grab hold of her. He listened, and as Eden watched him, she saw the pulse in his neck throb heavily. “No, yeah, my phone died. We’re heading in now. I want you to get everything you can on a Jenna Batsakis. She runs a blood disease support group downtown called Aima. Dig deep, Jack. We’re getting close.” He hung up and tossed Eden her phone. “Get in.”