by Lily Rede
“He’s making a run for it,” she muttered, and started to slither down the stairs, but Colin grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back.
“Are you out of your mind? You’re not chasing down some lunatic with a gun in the dark.”
“He’s getting away!” Evie protested, though she knew he was right. Her first instinct was to go after their assailant while the getting was good, almost immediately followed by the inner cop slapping her upside the head.
Protect the civilian, protect yourself. A few weeks off the beat and you’ve forgotten everything, Asher.
“He could be waiting behind a tree for you to stumble out, guns blazing. Just stay put. Zeke will be here in two minutes.”
“Fine. I know.” She was tense, keeping her eyes peeled and her gun trained on the darkness, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of a criminal who more than likely was no longer there.
Colin kept his arms around her, as though to reassure himself that she wasn’t going to bolt off the porch and get herself killed, and she had to admit that the strength of his body behind hers was reassuring.
The flash of headlights coming up the hill send a flood of relief running through Evie, and she relaxed minutely as Zeke pulled his truck into the driveway. Zeke clambered out of the truck, his freckled face stark white and scared in the glow of the two powerful flashlights. A quick sweep of the trees proved what Evie already suspected – the shooter was long gone.
“Anybody hurt?” he called.
Cautiously, Evie untangled herself from Colin’s grip and edged out to meet him.
“We’re okay.”
More lights, and Tony’s SUV jerked up the last stretch of hill, screeching to a halt. He stepped out, clearly pissed, as Colin moved to examine a bullet hole in the side of his truck.
“Dammit,” he muttered.
“Zeke, take Colin and make sure the house is secure. Asher, you’re with me.” Tony’s voice was clipped and angry.
Evie couldn’t bear to look at Colin, but nodded, taking one of Zeke’s flashlights and hurrying after Tony into the trees. A few minutes of searching led to a pile of 9mm shell casings and a few muddy boot prints, too smudged to be of any use.
Tony insisted on a careful grid search of the whole area, and Evie was impressed by the small town sheriff’s efficiency and attention to detail. She made a mental note to do some digging into Sheriff Arnetto – the man was as layered as an onion, and played everything close to the vest.
They were finishing the sweep of the grounds when Tony finally turned to her.
“The fire, the dead animal, the attack on Colin, and now this.”
His eyes were steady on hers as the truth hit home. Evie sucked in a breath and leaned against Tony’s truck, working it out.
“So, Deirdre’s not the target. At least not directly. He’s after Colin.”
“But he didn’t kill him when he had the chance. He just knocked him out,” noted Tony, “because he’s sending a message. Remember the blood? Sin. It’s a stalker.”
Evie forced an incredulous laugh, not wanting to believe it, but her stomach sank.
“Don’t fuck the mayor, or else?”
“Colin’s a great guy, but he hasn’t exactly been living like a monk since he moved back to town. Hell hath no fury, right?”
Colin stepped out on the porch, followed by Zeke.
“The house is secure,” squeaked the young deputy, importantly.
“Colin, I’m going to need a list of every woman you’ve hooked up with since you came back to Bright’s Ferry. And the ones in Boston, too.” Tony’s voice was matter-of-fact, as though it were an everyday request.
Colin sputtered for a moment, and then, “What the hell, Tony?”
Evie spoke up, keeping her voice as professional as she could manage, ticking off her fingers as she ran down the list.
“Deirdre’s car got keyed the other day, probably while she was with you. The next day, her house burns to the ground. Instead of staying away from Deirdre, which is what the attacker seems to want, everyone in town sees the happy couple at the restaurant tonight – ”
Evie paused to clear her throat, glad that Colin couldn’t see her expression in the glare of the flashlights.
“Later, Deirdre spends the night at your house. Enraged, the attacker leaves a dead animal and a message, and then knocks you out when you nearly catch her in the act.”
She stopped, the rest of the list stuck, but Tony smoothly picked up the narrative.
“The attacker sticks around to make sure you’re not seriously injured, and then follows you back here. Whatever she saw sends her flying into a rage, and here we are.”
Evie’s face heated as Tony deliberately kept his voice bland and nonjudgmental. If the attacker was really watching, they would have gotten an eyeful.
For a hot second, the memory of Colin’s tongue expertly flicking her clit while his fingers slid inside her with slow, deliberate thrusts, intruded, and Evie felt dizzy. She quickly shook it off – not the time or the place, not that her pussy seemed to care. Her clit throbbed like a toothache.
It must be the adrenaline, she thought. She hoped.
Colin leaned down to swipe a piece of white fabric from the porch, which he casually slipped into his pocket. Her panties. Evie stifled a groan.
“Colin,” said Tony, deadly serious, “You’ve got a stalker.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Colin retorted, “completely – wait.”
“What?” asked Evie as Colin froze.
“There have been letters. To the office. Really twisted stuff.”
“And you didn’t report them? Shit, Daniels.” Tony was pissed.
Colin paced the driveway, running his fingers through his hair, agitated.
“Look, hate mail is part of the job. Few times a year we get someone railing about anarchy and all that nonsense. The only reason I remember these is that they really rattled Candace. I figured they were just from some nutjob trying to let off a little steam.”
“We need to see those letters.”
Colin nodded, sitting down on the front steps, trying to process everything.
“Uh, Sheriff?” Zeke’s voice was hesitant in the darkness.
“Yeah, Zeke?”
“Well, the stalker doesn’t necessarily have to be one of Mr. Daniels’…uh…girlfriends. It could just be someone that wants to make us think that. Or someone jealous.”
“That’s a good point,” said Evie, “Anyone who dislikes Colin, doesn’t think he’s fit to be mayor, anyone holding a grudge…”
Colin was shaking his head.
“I can’t believe this. So, what happens now?”
“Unfortunately, Evie seems to have caught the stalker’s attention. We don’t want to antagonize him or her by seeing you two together, but at the same time, I don’t have the manpower to have someone keep a separate eye on you, Deirdre, and Evie, too.”
“I can take care of myself,” Evie insisted.
“That’s not a good idea,” growled Colin, “and besides, I was nowhere near Deirdre when that maniac set her house on fire.”
“True enough.”
Tony kicked at the gravel, considering their options.
“For tonight, Asher, go bunk down at the Daniels’ house. Zeke, you take the night watch and I’ll see if I can’t drum up some volunteers from the Fire Department to join you. Tomorrow, we’ll go through those letters and try to figure out who this lunatic is before someone really gets hurt. Until he or she is caught, no one goes anywhere alone.”
Spending the night on Colin’s couch while he and Deirdre slept upstairs sounded like punishment to Evie, but she nodded. At least this way she could keep him safe.
The drive back to Colin’s house was short, and as Evie followed his truck, she could see Zeke’s headlights in the rearview mirror. She yawned, drained from the emotional highs and lows of the evening along with the stress of two near-death experiences in two days’ time.
An hour
ago, Evie had been completely focused on the idea of stripping Colin out of his clothes and satisfying the lust that had plagued her from the moment she’d seen him, half-naked in his doorway. Now, all she wanted was a good night’s sleep without any surprises, gunshots, or blood. Sexual satisfaction was all well and good, but her shoulder and side were stiff, throbbing dully, reminding her that she needed to take something, that she really wasn’t yet up to speed.
She pulled up behind him in the driveway and hoped that he was as tired as she was – she felt raw, and wasn’t ready for another confrontation. Colin got out of the truck and started toward her, but suddenly the front door opened and Tom stumbled out, his eyes wide with shock, blood on his hands and shirt.
“Colin, it’s Deirdre – she’s dead.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE WHOLE TOWN TURNED out for Deirdre’s funeral two days later. She may have had a reputation, but she was one of Bright’s Ferry’s own, and the community was horrified and saddened by her abrupt and brutal death.
In the small cemetery overlooking the bay, Colin stood over the gravesite with Jenny Bright and Susan Gunterson, who wept openly next to Deirdre’s parents as the preacher performed the service. From the corner of his eye, he could see Evie standing with Tony at the edge of the crowd, not listening but watching instead, taking in the expressions and reactions of his friends and neighbors with her sharp gray eyes.
It bothered him, the idea that someone he knew and cared for had most probably done this – the crimes were too personal to be a random killer passing through, but the rational conclusion was almost impossible to believe. It bothered him more that he seemed to be at the center of the killer’s focus, and as a result, the people in his life were now in danger.
He stared down at Deirdre’s coffin as it was lowered into the ground, thinking about the loss of a beautiful, fun-loving woman, overwhelmed by guilt.
The blood on Tom’s hands and clothes had been Deirdre’s. As he explained it later, he’d been in the living room when he heard the gunshot, and raced upstairs to find the hall window open and Deirdre lying in a pool of blood in the guest room. Tom was nearly incoherent as he explained how he tried to revive her, but Evie gently assured him that there was nothing he could do. Her voice was softer and more soothing than Colin had ever heard it.
Colin sent Tom home with strict instructions to rest, and then Tony arrived, and the whole search process had begun all over again. It was a long, grueling night, and by the time the EMTs had taken Deirdre’s body, and Tony had left Zeke and a volunteer firefighter built like a truck to guard the house, the sky was already starting to lighten.
Colin took one look at Evie, swaying with exhaustion, and swept her off her feet, carrying her upstairs to lay her down in his bed. She protested, of course, but was asleep before he even got her shoes off. He removed her jacket, but left the rest of her clothing on, remembering with vivid clarity that she had nothing on underneath the jeans and light shirt.
If he were a better man, he admitted to himself, he would have taken the couch. Instead, Colin climbed into bed behind her and pulled her back to his chest, relieved and gratified when she murmured softly and snuggled back against him, her ass nestling perfectly against his groin, her hands clutching his arm between her breasts, the softness of her hair at his mouth. After the shock and stress of the night, the living warmth of her body against his felt like Heaven, but he only had a moment to savor it before sinking into sleep like a stone.
When he woke, she was gone.
Colin hadn’t seen her since, and he, Tom, and Candace were underwater at the office as the rumors started to fly and the panicked community demanded answers. Yesterday, Tony had marched in to confiscate the hate mailbox, and Colin had managed to pry small bits of information from him – the gun that shot at them was the same one used to kill Deirdre.
Evie had basically moved in down at the Sheriff’s Department, catnapping in the town’s one holding cell for a few hours at a time in between taking statements from every woman on Colin’s list, cataloguing and labeling every scrap of evidence.
The grief and anger over Deirdre’s death was momentarily swamped by sheer horror as he imagined what the woman who held his fascination was uncovering by interrogating all the women he’d pursued over the past couple of years.
God, if she was wary about me before…
AS THE CROWD DISPERSED, offering their condolences to Deirdre’s parents and tossing flowers into the grave as they passed, Evie watched carefully, noting who lingered, who hurried away, who fidgeted during the ceremony, and who wept. But she was distracted, her gaze moving back to Colin again and again.
He was grave and pale, his hazel eyes filled with emotion, gorgeous in a black suit, and Evie felt a low hum of hostility as women approached to hug him and press their cheeks against his, offering comfort and perhaps more. Some were blatant about it, some less so, but Evie found she was getting good at figuring out which of Bright’s Ferry’s female residents were just friends, and which were dying to jump Colin Daniels’ finely-sculpted bones.
Evie watched Grace give Colin’s hand a sympathetic squeeze, and then was surprised when the young woman, her purple hair artfully pulled back into an elaborate braid, smiled at her and headed in her direction.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Crazy couple of days, huh?”
“It’s not what I expected when I decided to move back here, that’s for sure.”
Grace considered her with clear brown eyes, and Evie felt like squirming.
“Why don’t you stop by the library later? We can grab some lunch and you can fill me in.”
“I can’t really talk about the case – ”
“Not about that. I want hear all about how you managed to turn Colin inside out.”
Evie started to protest, but Grace laughed.
“Don’t bother. I’ve known him since the third grade, and he’s never been as rattled by anyone as he is by you.”
“I’m not sleeping with him,” Evie blurted out. Not technically, anyway.
“Maybe you should start.” Grace’s eyes twinkled, “From what I hear, it’s quite the earth-shattering experience. Not that I would know firsthand, of course. Too much of a big brother, little sister vibe there.”
She wrinkled her nose and Evie’s mouth stretched in an answering grin.
“But seriously,” Grace asked, sobering, “Is he in danger? I keep hearing rumors about stalkers and serial killers. Some people are even saying that Deirdre committed suicide because Colin wouldn’t marry her, which is nonsense. I know it’s a horrible thing to say, but the woman thought way too much of herself to deliberately deprive the men of Bright’s Ferry of her presence. If there is someone out there – someone that might hurt Colin – ”
“I’m not going to let that happen. I promise.”
Impulsively, Grace hugged her, and a surprised Evie hugged back.
“I know you won’t,” Grace whispered.
Evie watched her go, her long black skirts catching the breeze.
“She likes you.”
Colin’s voice at her elbow had her stumbling back, startled. Smoothly, he caught her arm to steady her, and a warm tremor snaked through her at the brush of his skin.
“You should take that as a compliment,” Colin continued, “She doesn’t make friends easily.”
“I know the feeling.”
Colin took a step closer, into her personal space, and lowered his voice to something warm and intimate.
“You disappeared on me the other day.”
“I’m trying to catch a killer.”
“I don’t want you putting yourself in danger.”
Evie noticed belatedly that he hadn’t let go of her arm, and was rubbing a gentle circle on the inside of her wrist that threatened to crumble her defenses.
She barely remembered him taking her to bed after the hours searching the house and the grounds for evidence, but she definitely remembered waking up. The fee
ling of his arms around her, his solid strength at her back, and the warmth of his breath on her neck was delicious, and she spent a few decadent minutes watching him sleep, the sun streaming through the windows, painting his skin gold. One soft kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth had him stirring, but he didn’t wake as she untangled herself and sneaked out.
If he had woken to find her soft and vulnerable, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to resist the heat in his eyes or those elegant hands peeling her clothing off and pressing her into the mattress…and that would make today so much harder.
She pulled her arm away and he frowned.
“Colin, it isn’t safe for us to be talking like this.”
“You’re saying I can’t have a conversation with a woman without painting a target on her back? I’m not going to let some freak hold me hostage.”
Evie kept her voice low, though she really wanted to shout at him, her temper rising.
“Not every woman, just the women you fuck!”
“I haven’t fucked you yet,” he breathed, “although we came damned close.”
Evie fought the blush that was working its way up her face.
“That’s for the best.”
“The hell it is. Shit, I knew it was a bad idea to give you that list. Not a single one of those women is capable of murder, and now you’ve got this image of me as – as – ” He sputtered, unable to come up with a term shocking enough.
“As a horny tomcat with a fear of commitment?” The barb was delivered in a dulcet tone, and Colin glared at her.
“I don’t care if you sleep with half the women in Massachusetts,” And Heaven forgive me for that lie, “but the stalker does. Those letters aren’t just full of hate, Colin. They’re warnings to shape up, to repent, to make up for all the immoral fucking around you do because you’re rich and popular and have a great ass.” Her voice was growing louder.
“Why don’t I get right on that?” Colin was fuming now. “I never slept with anyone who didn’t totally understand how the cards were dealt, and I’m not going to apologize for enjoying the hell out of each and every one of them before we parted ways. Amicably, I might add. And if you’re going to lecture me on immorality, why don’t we lay out your relationship history and do a little side by side comparison?”