No, no, no! She bucked and kicked. The edges of her vision blurred as she put every ounce of strength she possessed into heaving him off of her.
A great boom behind her, and suddenly she was surrounded by legs and boots. Two giant arms reached down and lifted him off and hurled him against the wall.
A blinding light shone in her eyes. She rolled to her side, choking and gasping as she pulled off the tape and flung it away. And then her face burned, and she felt like she’d ripped off her own lips.
“Veronica.”
She crawled toward the door, tried to get to her feet.
“Veronica.” Someone was at her side, pulling her up and away from the chaos. “Are you okay?”
Jay.
She blinked at him in shock. And then she saw Reed and a swarm of uniformed cops kneeling on her floor and slapping cuffs on her attacker, and he was flapping around on the floor like he’d been Tasered.
“What—how—” She tried to form a thought, but her mind wouldn’t work. She shook off Jay’s hands and backed away, bumping into the wall. Her living room was filled with men holding guns and Tasers and shouting orders at one another.
“Veronica, answer me. Are you all right?”
She looked at him, gradually comprehending his words as she tugged at the hem of her torn shirt.
Was she all right?
Was she all right?
“Hell, no,” she said, and burst into tears.
CHAPTER 32
Reed walked into the bullpen and spotted Jay coming out of the computer lab. It was swarming with FBI agents. Now that they’d actually apprehended the killer, everyone wanted a piece of the case.
Reed tossed his keys onto his desk and intercepted Jay on the way to the break room.
“You hear about the Chevy?” Reed asked.
The search of a sixty-eight Chevy pickup on Paul’s property had turned up a cache of travel supplies, including money, two burner phones, and a phony passport. Investigators also had recovered a Sig P226 pistol, probably the one missing from the evidence room that had been used to shoot Gantz.
“Yeah, I heard. Sounds like he was planning to skip town.”
Jay looked at him, and Reed knew what he was thinking. He wished he’d just fled instead of making one last compulsive stop for his next target.
“How’s Veronica?” Reed asked.
“Mild concussion.” Jay sighed heavily. “They discharged her from the ER half an hour ago, and she went home with her sister.”
“Good.”
“How’s Laney?” Jay looked around. “I heard she’s back here?”
“She told me she was going home.”
Jay’s brow furrowed. “I just talked to Jordan. They were working together down in the evidence lab.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Reed went downstairs and found Jordan seated in front of a computer. She glanced up.
“You just missed her,” she said.
“Laney was here?”
“She wanted to make sure we had all the ViCAP info. We’ve been going through it the last hour.” She glanced at the clock. “She walked me through everything on the two murders up in Michigan and also a home invasion up there that we think might be related. Boyfriend scared off the intruder, but everything fits the profile. She tell you about it?”
“No. I didn’t even know she was here. What time did she leave?”
“About ten minutes ago. And I have to say, she looked a little shaky.”
Reed muttered a curse.
“I offered to drive her home, but she wouldn’t let me. She said she felt fine, just tired.” Jordan lifted an eyebrow. “And if you believe that, you’re a moron.”
Reed turned to go.
“Hey.”
He looked back at her.
“She’s a good investigator. Any chance we can hire her away from the Delphi Center?”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.”
He headed back upstairs to close out. It was after midnight already, and he had a mountain of paperwork on his desk, but he needed to get to Laney’s, so he grabbed his keys and left everything where it sat.
Hall called out to him as he passed his office. Reed stepped in and found the man seated behind his desk. The tie he’d worn for the afternoon press conference was askew and loose around his neck.
“Where’s Delaney Knox?” Hall got to his feet.
“Home.”
“We need to bring her in for questioning tonight.” He glanced at his watch. “Tomorrow morning at the latest.”
“I’m not bringing her anywhere,” Reed said. “She’s recovering.”
“I need to hear her statement.”
“She gave one already. You can read it.”
Hall’s gaze narrowed. He came around the desk, and Reed felt his blood starting to boil. “I heard about your little affair, Novak. You should know the FBI’s looking at her for hacking charges. They might be looking at you, too. We don’t need this kind of publicity now.”
“Publicity?” Reed’s hand clenched into a fist at his side.
Hall stepped closer, oblivious. “You led an unauthorized raid on a suspect’s home. You botched the arrest. I should suspend you.”
“Bring it on. You better do it quick, though.”
He scowled. “What’s that mean?”
Reed gritted his teeth. He glanced at the clock. Twelve-fucking-thirty. He didn’t want to do this right now, he wanted to get to Laney’s. “All this time I thought you were protecting the chief,” Reed said. “But you weren’t protecting Aguilar at all, you were protecting yourself.”
“What—”
“I know about the IPO at Mix. Your brother-in-law’s on the board there and stands to make a shitload of cash when the company goes public. You stymied this investigation every fucking step of the way to protect that company from any bad publicity.” Reed poked a finger into Hall’s chest. “You refused to look at the facts, you refused to use outside resources, and because of your negligence, two women almost died today.”
Reed watched the fear come into Hall’s eyes. Reed had been working on this angle of the case with a financial reporter from the Austin Business Journal, and he didn’t have everything nailed down, but he could tell from Hall’s reaction that he’d gotten it right. Reed didn’t have the evidence yet, but he suspected Hall was getting a payoff for everything he’d done.
“You can’t prove a damn thing,” Hall said.
“I don’t have to. By Monday morning, you’re going to have federal investigators crawling up your ass.” Reed clapped him on the shoulder. “Better not plan on taking any vacations.”
Reed walked out of the station and into the hot summer night. He spotted his pickup with its mangled front bumper parked in a fire lane with a ticket tucked under the wiper blade.
Reed tossed the ticket inside, got behind the wheel, and drove to Laney’s. He rolled his windows down, hoping the fury he’d had locked inside him all day would somehow seep out of him before he reached her. He made a detour by a convenience store, rolled up to her place at exactly 1:05, and was relieved to see the purple flicker of a television in her front window.
Reed parked in the driveway and stared at her house. He wanted her with a fierceness that shocked him. He hadn’t wanted anything—truly yearned for anything—in years. He’d thought it was burnout creeping into his life and causing the apathy. But that was gone now, replaced by this intense desire. He wanted Laney to need him. It was ironic, because she was about the least needy woman he’d ever known.
He approached her door, combing his hand through his hair and feeling strangely nervous.
If you believe that, you’re a moron.
Reed didn’t believe it. Not for a second. Laney was anything but fine, and still Reed predicted she was goi
ng to try to push him away. He stood under the glare of her porch light and waited for her to answer the door. He could almost feel her on the other side of it debating with herself.
The door swung open.
“Hi,” she said.
“Thought you’d be asleep.”
“Really?”
He stepped inside and closed the door as she reset her beeping alarm. She turned around. She wore a strappy white tank top and plaid boxer shorts. The television cast a purplish hue on everything, making the cut on the side of her face look black. Just seeing it put a twist in his gut.
“I brought ice cream.” He held up the bag.
She took it without a word, and he followed her into the kitchen. She got out two spoons as Reed rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. She took the ice cream into the living room, and Reed grabbed a beer from the fridge and followed her.
She sat down beside her cat on the futon, and he joined her. He felt anxious. He waited for her to tell him he shouldn’t stay long, that she planned to go to sleep soon.
She ate a few bites of ice cream, then put the carton on the table with her spoon sticking up.
“Want any?” she asked.
“I’m good with beer.”
Actually, he didn’t even want the beer. He rested it on the table and settled back beside her. There was so much he wanted to say to her. And ask her. But she was giving off a vibe like she needed space, so he was grateful just to be here.
Someone had tried to kill her tonight.
She’d had to fight for her life. Again. And Reed had almost been too late.
The fury was back again, making his shoulders tense and his chest tighten.
“I’m binge-watching Game of Thrones.” She scooted closer.
“It any good?” Reed pulled her against him and tucked her head against his chest.
“Sometimes.”
Reed stroked his fingers over her in that way that seemed to relax her. He felt the tension draining out of her. Or maybe out of him.
“I watch it when I can’t sleep.”
He traced his fingers up her pretty arm, then down. Then up again. He pulled her closer, and his heart squeezed when she nestled her head against him.
“That happen a lot?” he asked quietly. “Not being able to sleep?”
She shrugged.
Reed closed his eyes and tried to just be in the moment with her without demanding anything. But he felt that anger again, that white-hot rage that had been coursing through his veins since he’d seen her bleeding and terrified at Doher’s place.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He pulled away and looked down at her. “You’re sorry?”
“For not figuring it out sooner.”
Jesus Christ, he wanted to hit something. “I think that’s my line. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He pulled her against him, hugging her tightly as he kissed the top of her head. “Driving over there, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.” He squeezed her again, and she gave a little yelp.
“What?” He instantly let go.
“Nothing, just . . . my knee.”
He looked at her knee. It was swollen and mottled with bruises.
“What the hell happened?”
“I fell. When I was running to the fence.”
“We need to get you checked out.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll take you to the ER.” He sat forward, and she grabbed his arm.
“Reed, I’m fine. I iced it. There’s nothing else to do.”
He looked at her in the dimness, at the stubborn tilt of her chin. He could tell she’d made up her mind.
She rested her hand on his thigh. “I want to be home tonight. With you.” She slid her hand up his leg, and her eyes darkened. “No more questions. No talking. Just be with me.”
He watched her for a long moment. He had so much to say, so many things crowded in his mind. But she didn’t want to hear any of them right now.
He picked up the remote and turned off the TV, plunging the room into darkness. He reached for her and gently pulled her against him. He found her mouth, and she was hot and sweet, and he knew she’d been waiting up for him, waiting for this. He slid his hands under her shirt to touch the smooth softness of her skin, and she arched against him. She felt so good and tasted so perfect, and he wanted to give her exactly what she wanted.
“Hold on to me,” he whispered.
She slid her arms around his neck. Reed scooped her up and carried her to bed.
CHAPTER 33
Veronica had a nervous knot in her stomach as she pulled up to Jay’s apartment. His black Tahoe was in the parking lot, and she took a deep breath. He was home. She was all out of excuses.
She grabbed the cookie tin off the seat beside her and strode up to his door before she could change her mind. She gave a sharp rap. The door opened after a few minutes, and he looked surprised to see her. He had on basketball shorts and a T-shirt that stretched tightly over his broad chest.
“Good, I caught you,” she said. “You’re probably on your way to the gym, right?”
“Good guess.” He gave her a puzzled look for a moment before swinging the door back. “Come on in.”
She stepped out of the heat into the chilly dimness of his hallway. His first-floor unit backed up to a greenbelt, and she caught a glimpse of thick woods through his back windows. She turned and looked at him. “Here.” She thrust the cookie tin at him. “Chocolate chip.”
“You made me cookies?”
“They’re okay. A little overdone, actually. I’m not really a baker.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. She stood there empty-handed, trying not to fidget as he opened the lid and popped a cookie into his mouth. He offered her one.
“No, thanks.”
“These are great.” He glanced around. “You want to come in and sit down or—”
“No, really. I just stopped by.”
He walked deeper into the apartment and put the cookie tin on the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. His place was all single-guy stuff, from the oversized leather sofa to the giant television. A sliding glass door in back led to a patio where he had a black Weber grill.
He was looking at her face now, specifically the bruise at the side of her forehead. It had gone through a rainbow of colors throughout the week, and today was a sickly greenish brown.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Fine.” She cleared her throat. “That’s actually why I came. Part of the reason. I wanted to thank you.”
His eyebrows tipped up. “For what?”
“For, you know, kicking my door in. Getting there in time.” She tried to sound casual, but the words came out glib, and he looked down at the floor, clearly uncomfortable.
“Yeah, wish we would’ve been there sooner.” His gaze met hers. “And how’d you know it was me who kicked your door in?”
“I measured the shoeprint. Thirteen and a half. Who else would it be?” She smiled and glanced away.
This was even more awkward than she’d imagined it would be as she’d spent her day off baking the damn cookies. She’d burned the first batch and had to go to the store for more ingredients.
She looked at him, determined to get this done. “The other thing is I owe you an apology. For the other day.”
His eyebrows tipped up again.
“For what I said to Jordan about us.”
He winced and looked away.
“I’m really sorry.”
He shook his head. “Forget it.”
She stepped closer. “No, I really am. I didn’t want to go out in the first place because I didn’t want anyone gossiping about me, and then I did it to you. I feel like a bitch.”
“You’re not.” He laughed
and looked over her shoulder. “Actually, I wouldn’t have minded gossip, if it had been good.”
“I’m sorry. Really.”
He shook his head and blushed, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry you were disappointed.”
“I wasn’t.”
He gave her a baleful look.
“Not like that. I just meant . . . damn it, I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”
“Can we just forget it?”
A scratching noise caught her attention, and she glanced around him to see a cat pawing at the door.
“Your cat wants in.”
He turned and sighed. “It’s supposed to stay outside.”
“ ‘It’?”
“She. Whatever.”
The cat mewed and rubbed against the glass, and Jay walked over and let her in. She made a dash for a bowl in the kitchen.
Veronica looked at Jay. “That’s the stray calico April Abrams was feeding.”
He sighed. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe. I tested all that damn cat fur. It’s the missing cat from the crime scene.” She went around the counter into the kitchen and crouched down to pet her. The little thing was old and had a torn ear.
She glanced up at Jay. “What’s her name?”
“Damned if I know. She doesn’t have a chip or anything.”
“You took her to a shelter?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you leave her?”
“I don’t know. I was going to.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it was like Death Row in there. They’re overrun with cats. Who’d want to adopt that skinny old thing?”
The cat purred and rubbed against Veronica’s hand.
“I’m thinking of taking her to my sister’s,” he said. “She lives in Brenham, and she could probably use a mouser around the barn.”
“A mouser? This little one?” Veronica lifted the cat up and snuggled her against her chest. “She’d get picked off by the first coyote.”
Jay gazed down at her and sighed. He’d already decided to keep the cat, she could see it in his face.
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