“Clothes. Footprints. Blood trail. We’ll know if we see it.” The other deputy shrugged a meaty shoulder and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Wouldn’t it be something if we were the ones that found out what happened to Payton Rooney after all these years? Did you know her?”
A knot of grief twisted his guts. “No, I didn’t know her.” Apprehension rose with each footstep through the snow. “If there was any evidence it’s buried under this snow.”
“We should get dogs out here—”
“The killer took the McCaffertys’ car. Dogs ain’t gonna tell us nothing but which road they took.”
“Yeah, but the killer came back for Mallory Rooney last night so maybe he’s still in the area.”
They were heading ever closer toward the trail to his cabin. Kennedy was a good officer who was getting too close for comfort and beginning to piss him off. “Let’s go get something to eat and come back when it gets light at dawn.”
“In a minute,” Kennedy bit back impatiently.
The temptation of food usually worked on the guy. Kennedy stopped and looked around at the gathering dusk. Come on, come on. Turn around. Then the deputy looked over at the woodpile. “Let’s check out that area and then we’ll call it quits.”
Shit.
He moved cautiously behind his fellow officer, checking his shoulder. The other teams had given up for the night and had all headed home. He surreptitiously unclipped his holster.
They followed the faint trail of his earlier footprints into the central clearing where he’d been very careful not to go up to the trapdoor, but instead had concentrated on the woodpile itself. The branches overhead shook as wind whistled through them. Lumps of snow splattered the ground. He glanced down and swore. The snow had melted on the metal ring of the trapdoor, leaving a clear circular impression. He saw the exact moment Kennedy spotted it.
Kennedy turned and caught his eye, excitement filling his gaze. He put his finger to his lips and drew his gun. “Nothing here. Better head back,” Kennedy said loudly, then he added in a whisper, “This is gonna get both of us goddamn commendations.”
He pulled his gun too, thankful the other officer hadn’t called it in. Kennedy obviously wanted to be a hero rather than follow procedure. The guy reached down for the ring, then threw back the hatch which landed with a soft crunch in the snow. It was pitch black inside and almost impossible to see in the gathering dusk. Kennedy grabbed his flashlight and shone it down the steps. “Sheriff’s officers. Come out with your hands up,” he said loudly.
He checked his shoulder again. No one was nearby.
Kennedy reached for his radio. He had two choices. Let Kennedy call it in and go on the run while they ran forensics. Or...
“You hear that? Like a woman crying?” he whispered urgently, taking a step forward. Kennedy cut in front of him. The guy definitely wanted to be the hero here today.
Kennedy took off his hat and tossed it to the ground before he eased down the wooden stairs, risers groaning under his weight. All Kennedy’s attention was front and center. On the third step down, he smashed his service weapon hard into the back of Kennedy’s skull. The man crashed to the dirt floor. He scrambled down the stairs, and quickly secured the chain to Kennedy’s meaty wrists while he pocketed the officer’s keys. He grabbed duct tape and efficiently wrapped mouth, wrists and ankles. He lifted Sean’s radio, cell phone, weapon and badge, knowing he should kill him but unwilling to do so just yet. Blood poured down Kennedy’s face and his eyes started to open. They were cloudy with confusion, and silently begged questions as his hands jerked against the chain.
“Well hell, Seany, you went and solved the goddamn case.” He lifted a couple of things from the shelves. A hairbrush. Kari Regent’s backpack. “I lied by the way, when I said I didn’t know Payton. I knew her better than anyone. I loved her and she loved me. Sorry you had to be the one to figure it all out.” He grimaced wryly. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen, but Kennedy had sealed his own fate. He backed up the steps, keeping a lookout for anyone as he closed the trapdoor on his fellow officer and bolted it shut. He spread snow carefully over the top until it was once again invisible.
Sean’s disappearance would be one of those unexplained mysteries that people scratched their heads over from time to time.
He headed back to their patrol vehicle, got in and drove to Deputy Kennedy’s ranch house on a quiet street in a quiet neighborhood. He let himself in—the guy had never locked a door in his life—put the gun, badge, radio and cell on his kitchen counter top, carefully wiping his prints and DNA from the items. Then he went into the bedroom and stuffed Kari’s backpack under the bed. He placed the hairbrush on the dressing table, touched it and remembered brushing Payton’s long dark hair until it shone like ebony. He wiped the wooden handle clean and stood back.
What was Kennedy thinking right now? Was he suitably shocked and awed?
He got back in the patrol car and headed to the sheriff’s office. If asked he’d say he dropped Kennedy back home after another fruitless search of the woods. When he didn’t turn up for work tomorrow, someone would be sent around to the house to look for him. When they figured out he’d disappeared he’d go to the top of the suspect list. The hairbrush and backpack and his sudden disappearance should buy him some time. Long enough to kill Kari and snatch Mallory Rooney from under their noses. Alex Parker had stymied him but not for much longer. He intended to repay the guy by taking his woman. The cops around here weren’t exactly rocket scientists and even the FBI was turning out to be a disappointment. But until Kari Regent was dead he needed to start putting together his exit plan, just in case.
Patience, he reminded himself as he drove past all the TV and media vans. Kari was in ICU and everyone was on high alert. As long as he didn’t panic it’d work out. He looked out the car window as the snow began to fall softly again, covering the tracks he and Sean had made in the woods.
Patience was his friend.
***
Her parents might be powerful people, but there were no more strings to pull. Eastborne was a crime scene until the feds said otherwise. Mallory had made her parents go home and let the cops do their jobs. Promised to see them for dinner at her mother’s house that weekend.
Now she and Alex were back at her father’s apartment in DC, and she was effectively kicked to the curb in terms of the investigation. She set her jaw. She could have helped out, but she’d hardly slept in days and was so tired she could barely stand up. It was starting to take its toll on her ability to think straight. Tomorrow she intended to tell Hanrahan her plan for catching the vigilante, but right now she just wanted to sleep and not worry about a maniac trying to snatch her.
The TV was on in the background, muted. It threw flickering images against the wall. The rest of the apartment was dark. Alex came into the room after a shower. He leaned down and kissed her, long and slow.
“You must have better things to do than hang out with me,” she murmured against his mouth.
“I like hanging out with you.” He pushed her backward until he was stretched out on top of her on the couch. “I like hanging out with you a lot.” He nipped her bottom lip and she groaned and then, unable to resist, wrapped her arms around his neck and savored his taste. The guilt of allowing herself to be happy was eased by the fact that without Alex she might be dead. Her sister wouldn’t have wanted that.
She pulled back and stared into those pewter eyes. “I can’t believe you came into my life at exactly the right moment.”
He kissed her again and heat uncurled in her belly, and something else. Something scary. Something amazing. He brushed her hair back from her forehead, framing her face with his hands. “I think I came into your life exactly when it was meant to be.”
Fate? Mallory had discounted fate as a fickle so-and-so years ago. Emotion welled up but she didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Alex hadn’t been there last night. Instead she licked the inside of his mouth, and to
ok control of the kiss, feeling the heady power as he kissed her back. He tasted like strong healthy male and she wanted that strength. She wanted to play with that power, explore the ways she could make him groan. And she wanted to forget that there was a man out there who wanted her as his own personal plaything.
The apartment was relatively safe with good security. One of her Glocks was on the coffee table. The other by the front door in the drawer. Alex wore a weapon in a shoulder holster that looked sexy as hell strapped to that ridiculously honed body.
She rolled him and they landed in a heap on the floor with her on top. They both laughed but the laughter stopped when her fingers moved to the top button of his shirt. He lay unmoving when she worked her way down the length of his torso. He went to touch her but she shook her head.
“I want to do with you whatever I want.” There was a challenge in her tone. She needed some control in a life that had gone haywire.
One side of his mouth curled up. “Go for it.”
She straddled his thighs and desire blazed through her, reflected in his eyes.
His fingers tightened on her thighs. “Be gentle with me. Or rough. Whatever...” He said it as a joke but as her eyes fastened on his scars she realized people had hurt him, physically and mentally. She lowered her lips to first one mark, then the next. “One day,” she said between kisses, “I want you to tell me how you got each and every scar.” She pressed two fingers to his lips before he could protest. “Not today. Just one day.”
He held her gaze, eyes vibrant with unspoken emotion but he finally nodded.
The warmth of his skin singed her fingers as she smoothed them over his lips, down his throat to broad pectorals and flat brown nipples and six-pack abs that rippled as she touched them. She’d never had a lover so beautiful before. Never touched a body like this. But that wasn’t what made Alex beautiful. He called to something inside her. She didn’t know what it was but they fit. Perfectly. Her lips followed the sprinkling of golden hair that arrowed south of a navel she wanted to taste. So she did. He was warm and clean and smelled of soap from a recent shower.
She popped the button of his jeans then ran her index finger over the ridge of his zipper. His eyes went dark.
“You like that?” she asked.
“I’m a guy. Touch my dick, I’m happy.”
“I like the fact you’re a guy.” She undid the top button of her shirt and watched him hold his breath as she flicked the next button free. “I like it a lot.” She’d said she wouldn’t hurt him but she hadn’t said she wouldn’t torment him until he begged for mercy. Next button. So that he got a glimpse of the lacy black bra she’d put on after her shower.
“You’re going to kill me.”
“I’m going to try.” She undid the last button and slipped slowly out of her shirt, tossing it behind her.
His fingers clenched but he didn’t reach for her. “Let me know if I can help.” He eyed her breasts.
“I think I’ve got everything under control.” She pressed herself against his zipper and his eyes crossed. She loved the feel of his skin, smooth and taut. Jesus, he was ripped and beautiful. Not bulky, just honed like the blade of a knife.
“You’ve got a hell of a body for a desk jockey.”
“You’ve got a hell of a body for a government employee.” He smoothed his hands up her ribcage to cup her aching breasts and leaned up to take a nipple into his mouth. The rough edge of lace against such delicate flesh made her toes curl; sensations shooting though her body that had her clinging to him. His hands were big and molded every curve. She was supposed to be in charge but somehow having Alex make love to her felt like she’d gotten everything she’d ever wanted.
She shimmied backwards, just enough to break contact and he groaned and lay back with a thump. She eased his jeans down his thighs and he kicked them off. He pulled off his holster and placed his weapon next to hers on the coffee table. His and hers. Lastly he removed his shirt and threw it behind him with a glint in his eye.
His gaze ate her up. She’d worn yoga pants because she’d planned on working tonight, going back over the files she’d been over a million times before. But she needed a break. She needed a life. She needed this. She stood and eased the pants down her legs. Watching his eyes dilate as they took in black lace panties. She’d worn them for him. She wanted to thank him. Not for saving her life last night. But for reminding her she had a life and might one day have a future.
Lust curled through her as she took in his delicious body. God, she wanted him. A red hot fiery want. Damp panties, shaking knees, where’s-the-condom want.
He rolled to his feet. “Bedroom.”
She blinked. Really?
He grabbed his pistol and then lifted her in his arms and carried her through to the other room and dumped her on the bed, placing his weapon on the bedside table before following her down to rest heavily between her thighs. The blunt tip of him throbbed against damp lace and the temptation to just take him without any protection was almost overwhelming. He slipped down her body taking the bad decision with him.
His lips touched every inch of skin as he kissed his way back to her breasts, laving her nipples until she was writhing on the bed, damn near coming apart from that alone. Strong arms held her wrists down by her sides. She loved the dominant strength of him but that’s not what she needed tonight. She needed to be in control, to know that she could do anything she wanted.
He was about to go lower and god she wanted him to, but... “Alex.”
That one word was enough to bring his head up. “What?”
She pushed with her body and he rolled onto his back. “My rules tonight.” She took him in her mouth and cupped his balls and worked him until his heels were pressing hard against the mattress. Then she licked her way up his body all the way to his sexy mouth. She leaned over to grab a condom out of the drawer and he took advantage to slip a finger inside the edge of her panties to find her wet and ready for him.
“You’re driving me insane.”
“Years without sex does that to a girl—and near-death experiences.”
“I won’t let him get you, Mallory.”
She nodded. “I won’t let him get me either.”
She went to shimmy out of her lingerie, but he stopped her. “Leave it on.”
Lingerie fetish. She left it on.
He took the condom from her fingers and covered himself. Eased her slowly over him and shifted her panties aside. He was big, aroused. She sank down just a little bit and he gritted his teeth. She looked down, the vision of him inside her, of the lace against pale skin, was such a turn on she came with a surprised shudder. He held perfectly still as if afraid to move. Squeezing her eyes shut, she sank just a little bit further.
“I know this is your show, sweetheart, and trust me I am not complaining,” his voice was low and guttural, “but if you don’t start moving soon I’m probably going to start crying.” The tendons in his neck stood out. He didn’t touch her, except for where they were joined and the thrum of his pulse against her inner thigh.
She leaned forward to kiss his lips. She clenched her muscles around him and he swore. She liked that. Loved that he was doing what she wanted even though he’d do things differently. She started to reward him, moving on him with slow sensuous strokes of her body over the rigid hardness of his. Sweat glistened on his skin, a faint sheen that tasted of salt. He was beautiful, sweaty and hers.
“You’re really killing me,” he whispered as she lowered her nipple within reach of his mouth. He obliged her, tongue rasping against lace. Pleasure arrowed through her, from her nipple to her core. The need for more, for everything, was building and she reared back, twisting her hips and riding him faster, harder. He held onto her, driving deeper, bucking, every tendon in his body taut with that need for release. “I can’t wait any longer, Mallory...” He threw back his head and she felt him come inside her. Her own body reacted, clutching, spiraling into orgasm as a whirlwind of ecstasy exploded thr
ough her body. Shuddering, she rested her face in the crook of his neck and he gathered her to him.
Slowly their breathing eased. After a few moments of enjoying the comfort of him against her, she asked, “What are you doing for Christmas?”
He stiffened beneath her. “I usually work.”
She reared back and sifted her fingers through his short silky hair. “Spend it with me.”
Those eyes of his held a funny expression. “Does it involve your parents?”
Despite everything going on in her life there was this weird feeling of joy she shouldn’t be experiencing right now. “I can cancel my parents.” He was more important.
He grunted. “Does it involve food?”
She still needed to go shopping. “Hopefully.”
He took her mouth and rolled her beneath him, pressed deep into the mattress, him deep inside her.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” She laughed, feeling him become aroused again.
His nostrils flared. “We’ll see.”
She cocked a brow. “It could be our first date.”
“We’re not dating, remember.” He thrust inside her and she sucked in a moan. “You didn’t go and do anything foolish like fall for me, did you, Mallory?” he asked.
Emotion welled up inside her. She shook her head and wrapped her legs around his hips. Watched his pupils dilate. “No, sir.”
“Good.” He swallowed. “Me either.”
But as she looked into his eyes she knew they were both lying and it felt dark and dangerous and wonderful.
***
Early next morning, Mallory sat opposite Hanrahan in his cluttered office. Alex had dropped her at Quantico, telling her he’d pick her up to drive her home. The weird ache in her chest at his absence meant she was in way deeper than she’d ever thought possible. She was in love.
“It’s a good idea,” Hanrahan said hesitantly.
“So why don’t you look happy about it?”
01 A Cold Dark Place Page 23