Killer Exposure

by Lara Lacombe

  A nervous quiver twitched in her stomach. “Oh?”

  “You were right. About me blaming myself for John’s death. And it’s taken me a while to understand that it wasn’t really my fault.” He looked down again, his gaze fixed on his hands. “I had a long talk with John’s widow a few days ago, and she didn’t pull any punches. She made me see that I was blaming myself as a way to hold on to John. To pretend he wasn’t really gone.” He lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but in some twisted way, I thought my guilt kept John’s memory fresh, kept me from forgetting him.” Now he looked up, his dark blue eyes rueful. “But I realize that’s not the case. And Casey helped me see that I wasn’t just hurting myself, but I was hurting other people, too. Like you.”

  Hannah could only nod, hardly willing to believe her ears. Here he was, saying the words she’d been wanting to hear for weeks. Her heart rejoiced but her mind wasn’t ready to celebrate just yet. Owen had been carrying around his guilt and sorrow for months. That wasn’t something a person could easily cast aside, even one as strong-willed as Owen. If he truly believed what he was saying, he was going to have to overhaul his entire way of thinking about his partner’s death, and while she hoped he was doing just that, her inner skeptic was having a hard time believing such a massive change had occurred in the few short weeks they’d been apart.

  She swallowed hard, trying to keep her doubt from showing. “When did you figure all of this out?” she asked as delicately as she could manage.

  “Honestly?” He gave a short laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “A few days ago.”

  “Ah.” So her fears were true. He’d only just started to change his thinking. She was happy he was finally starting to forgive himself, happy he was on the right path. But she couldn’t help but wonder if he had really changed for good, or if he was going to fall back into his old patterns once he faced an obstacle.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, shooting her a knowing glance. Hannah’s face warmed as she realized he probably could read her thoughts, since she had a terrible poker face.

  “Is that right?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

  He nodded. “Yep. You think my change in attitude isn’t permanent, and that I’ll go back to being the sad sack I was in a few days, after my newfound resolve wears off.”

  Hannah gave up trying to pretend and let her shoulders slump. “I wasn’t thinking those exact words,” she said lamely. “But can you blame me?”

  “Not at all. Hell, even I’m not sure if this is going to last. But I’m determined to make a change. And with you as my motivation, I know I’ll be able to do it.”

  “Me?” The word came out as a squeak, but she didn’t bother trying to clear her throat.

  Owen nodded, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I want to be with you, Hannah. But I want to be a man who deserves to be with you. That means I have to fix myself, and I’m willing to spend the rest of my life working on it, if you’ll be patient with me.”

  The breath froze in her chest, and she couldn’t speak. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Was that even possible?

  “I know we haven’t known each other very long,” he continued, once again reading her mind. “But I’ve felt drawn to you from the moment I met you. There’s something about you that calls to me, and I feel my best when I’m around you. I know that’s not a great motivation for you to be with me, but I’d like to think you feel something for me, too.”

  She nodded dumbly, at a complete loss for words. Cold shock had given way to a warm glow, one that was slowly spreading throughout her body. If he kept talking like this, she was certain she’d go up in flames.

  “So I guess what I’m asking is for you to give me a chance. I know I messed up, making you think you were some kind of obligation. But you’ve never been one, and you never will be. You’re someone I care about, very much. I want you to be a part of my life, and for me to be a part of yours. I don’t know where we’ll end up, but I think we owe it to ourselves to give it a shot.” He leaned forward, reaching across the desk to take her free hand in his own. The hope in his eyes was shining so brightly, it almost hurt to look at him.

  “So what do you say? Are you willing to try again? We can have a proper start this time, do things right.”

  A new start. One that didn’t involve a murder case and ghosts from his past. A chance to wipe the slate clean and get to know each other without all the other drama of the past few weeks. The very idea filled her with a sense of contentment and peace.

  She nodded, unable to stop the grin spreading across her face. Owen stared at her, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “Really?” he asked. “Are you sure?”

  Hannah laughed at the question. Was he trying to change her mind? “Were you wanting a different response?” she teased.

  “God, no!” he breathed. Keeping hold of her hand, he stood and rounded the desk, pulling her out of her chair with a gentle tug. As soon as she was on her feet, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against him as if she was the most precious thing in the world.

  “I missed you so much,” he murmured, the words muffled by her hair.

  She turned her head to the side, nuzzling against his chest and fitting her nose in the hollow of his throat. He smelled so good—soap, warmth, Owen. “I missed you, too,” she told him. The sling on her arm kept her from hugging him the way she wanted to, but it was still so good to be close to him. Satisfaction welled in her chest and bubbled up her throat, making her hum softly with the sheer pleasure of feeling Owen against her again.

  “Hannah,” he whispered. His hand cupped her jaw, and he tilted her face up to his. His dark blue eyes filled her vision, and the joy in his gaze nearly stole her breath.

  He dipped his head, touched his mouth to hers. The kiss was soft, a gentle exploration that told her more than any words how much he cherished her. Her bones turned to liquid and she melted against him, trusting his strength to support her. He didn’t disappoint.

  She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. It could have gone on forever, and it wouldn’t have been long enough to suit her. She was so focused on the man in front of her—his warm, familiar scent, his possessive hold, his intoxicating flavor—everything else faded into obscurity. Now that Owen was here, all her other worries and problems didn’t matter so much anymore. Whatever the future held in store for her, she knew she could handle it with him by her side.

  Slowly, he pulled back, breaking the kiss so he could draw a large breath. His chest inflated against her, pushing her back a little and making her smile. “I should let you get back to work,” he said softly, a hint of regret in his tone.

  Hannah sighed, knowing he was right but reluctant to see him leave. “My next class is over at five,” she told him. “Can I see you after?”

  He huffed out a laugh. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. I’m tempted to sit in the back of your class just so I can watch you.”

  Now it was her turn to laugh. “I don’t think so,” she told him. “Talk about a distraction!” Just the thought of his intense blue eyes following her every move made her shiver in delicious anticipation.

  “All right,” he acknowledged. “But I am coming back for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” said a voice from the doorway. “Since you’re not going anywhere.”

  Owen stiffened against her, then turned to face the new speaker, maneuvering so he kept her behind him. She rose up on her toes to peer around his shoulder, and her heart froze in her chest.

  Dave Carlson stepped into her office, closing the door behind him. His hand disappeared into his jacket and he withdrew a large, wicked-looking gun that he pointed at Owen. A thin, cold smile stretched across his face, giving him the look of a satisfied ghoul.

&n
bsp; “How nice to see you both again,” he said courteously. “Saves me an extra trip.”

  Chapter 16

  Owen couldn’t decide if Dave Carlson had the worst timing in the world, or if this was the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Was it really just a moment ago he’d been kissing Hannah, feeling as if nothing could go wrong ever again? He’d come to see her, hardly daring to hope that she’d even give him the time of day.

  But she had. And now that he knew she was giving him a second chance, he wasn’t going to let some two-bit psycho interrupt one of the greatest moments of his life.

  A curious calm fell over him, and his senses sharpened as adrenaline pumped through him. He watched as Dave stepped closer, noting the tension in his shoulders and the faint tremor in his arm as he held the gun. He obviously wasn’t familiar with the weapon, a fact that Owen could use to his advantage.

  Dave’s forehead was shiny with a thin sheen of sweat, and for all his projected confidence, he reeked with the stale, metallic scent of fear. He was a desperate man, one driven to the edge. That made him unpredictable.

  Under normal circumstances, Owen wouldn’t hesitate to take whatever risk was needed to incapacitate Dave. But he was keenly aware of Hannah’s warm presence behind him. No way could he take a chance when her safety was at stake.

  “What’s your plan, Dave? You do realize if you shoot, people are going to come running?”

  Dave smirked at him, and Owen’s finger’s itched with the desire to punch the smug bastard in the face. “I know. That’s why I have a silencer.” He pulled a black tube from his jacket and fumbled to screw it on the end of his gun.

  Owen’s frustration mounted in the face of Dave’s obvious unfamiliarity with the weapon. He’d be damned if he let some jerk who didn’t know how to use a weapon get the better of him. The guys at the station would never let him live it down. But more importantly, Hannah might get hurt.

  It took Dave a few minutes to install the suppressor, and as he struggled with it, Owen considered his next move. Dave still had the gun pointed at his chest, so any sudden movement would result in him getting shot. And if he went down, Hannah would be left unprotected.

  His best bet was to distract Dave so that Hannah had a chance to get away. Keep him talking, maybe draw him farther into the room and away from the door, so Hannah would have a clear path out.

  “It’s not like in the movies,” Owen informed him. “The suppressor isn’t going to fully mask the sound of the gun. Are you sure you really want to do this?”

  Dave shot him a glare over the top of the gun. “Is this the part where you try to talk me out of it? Are you going to explain that if I tell you my side of the story, you’ll talk to the DA and try to get the charges reduced?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m not that stupid.”

  “You can talk all you want,” Owen replied coolly. “It doesn’t matter what you say. I’ve already got the story from the people who worked with you. Marcia, Shelly—they couldn’t wait to tell me all about what you did. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in jail.” Hannah whimpered softly behind him, and she grabbed the fabric of his shirt, crumpling it in her fist. Unless he missed his guess, she was scared that Owen was going to taunt Dave into shooting them both. He wished he could offer her some kind of reassurance, but doing so would tip his hand. He settled for reaching back and giving the side of her leg a pat. It wasn’t the most comforting gesture, but it was better than nothing.

  “If there’s no incentive for me to talk,” Dave said, raising the gun to aim at Owen’s head, “then there’s no reason I shouldn’t just shoot you now.”

  “Wait!” Hannah’s voice was loud in the small room. Owen felt her shift behind him, and he moved to try to keep his body between her and Dave. He didn’t want her exposed until she was closer to the door and had a clear path out.

  She was too quick for him, though. With his back to her, he couldn’t see which way she was moving, and she easily stepped around him. He cursed silently and tried to pull her back, but it was hard to maneuver around the furniture in the small room.

  Hannah squared her shoulders and lifted her head as she stared at Dave. “I want to know why you tried to kill me by blowing up my lab. I never really spoke to you. Why did you hate me so much?”

  Dave stared at her, his expression puzzled. “I didn’t hate you,” he said, sounding surprised that she would think so. “You were in my way.”

  “So because I disagreed with you, you wanted me dead?”

  He shrugged. “I just wanted you gone. I knew firing you wouldn’t work because you’d probably come back and sue, so I had to come up with another strategy.”

  Hannah stiffened, and Owen could tell Dave’s explanation had shocked her. She was used to dealing with people who had a conscience, people who had a moral compass that guided their behavior. But Dave was a psycho who didn’t understand why killing someone was wrong. He had hurt her not because he disliked her or wanted to make her suffer but because he saw her as an obstacle, and blowing up her lab seemed like the simplest way to remove her from his path.

  Hannah shook her head and moved to the side, taking her farther away from Owen’s reach. What was she doing? Why was she separating herself from him? He couldn’t protect her if she was too far away, but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

  She started talking again, asking Dave questions, expressing her shock. It was then Owen noticed how Dave’s attention had shifted. The other man was now totally focused on Hannah, studying her like a bug under a microscope. By moving away from Owen, Hannah had drawn Dave’s focus and had given Owen a clear path to attack. Clever lady.

  His worry melted into admiration for her bravery. She showed no regard for her own safety. She was simply trying to give Owen a chance to do his job, and doing her best to make it easier for him. He wanted to gather her into his arms and kiss her senseless for it, but that would have to wait.

  She was still talking, and Dave seemed totally absorbed. Owen judged the distance between them. He had one chance to disarm Dave, and he couldn’t botch it. He knew once Dave felt threatened he wouldn’t hesitate to start shooting. Owen didn’t want to draw his own gun in such a cramped space, and he wasn’t about to risk a shot. Even though he was too close to miss, the bullet might pass right through Dave and slam into the hall or the next office.

  No, he was going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. With his fists.

  Hannah shifted just a bit more, and Owen saw his chance. He surged forward, hand outstretched for the gun. Dave caught the movement and turned, his eyes widening. He lifted the gun and pulled the trigger, and Owen felt the air move past his shoulder as the bullet whizzed by. Dave’s expression shifted from disbelief to panicked fury when Owen kept moving forward, but Owen was on him before he could do anything more.

  Owen grabbed the gun and wrenched it from Dave’s hand with a savage twist. Dave let out a cry of pain, but Owen didn’t stop. He grabbed the barrel and brought the handle down against Dave’s temple in one fluid motion. Dave’s body went limp and he sank to the floor, his eyes glazed. Owen tossed the gun to the side and drew out his cuffs, quickly anchoring Dave’s hands behind his back. Satisfied the man was no longer a threat, he stood and turned to find Hannah.

  She was wedged in the corner, taking in the scene with wide eyes. Her hand was pressed to her mouth, but he couldn’t tell if that was out of reflex or if she was trying to stifle a scream. She hadn’t made a sound while he had disarmed Dave, but maybe she was having a delayed reaction? Had she been shot? He was fairly sure the bullet had hit the wall behind him, but what if it had grazed Hannah?

  “Are you okay?” He reached for her, forcing himself to move slowly so she saw him coming. She nodded and grabbed his hand.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You didn’t get hit?” He scanned h
er face, her arms, her legs, checking for a telltale darkening on her clothes. But she appeared fine.

  She shook her head. “No. Did you?” Her eyes widened as she considered the possibility, and she completed her own scan of his body.

  He pulled her close, needing to hold her. Even though she was safe now, his heart was still pounding over their close call.

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “What happens now?” She gripped him tightly, apparently drawing her own comfort from their embrace.

  “I’ll call it in. But I just need to hold you for another minute. Okay?”

  He felt her smile against his shoulder. “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  It took several hours for the police to finish “processing the scene,” as Owen called it. Hannah was content to stay on the sidelines, watching and waiting. She’d already given her statement, and the officers didn’t need her while they gathered evidence and spoke to others. It seemed to go on forever, but they finally wrapped things up, leaving Owen and Hannah alone once more.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “What a day, huh?”

  “Definitely memorable.”

  He looked down for a moment and took a deep breath, as if he was gathering himself to say something difficult. Feeling uneasy, Hannah took a step forward, wanting to get closer to him.

  When he looked up, she was shocked at the intensity of emotions swirling in his eyes. “I need to ask you a question,” he said quietly.

  “Okay.” A lump formed in her stomach. He was clearly upset—what was wrong?

  He took a step, closing the distance between them. “What the hell were you thinking today?”

  Hannah leaned back, his worry and anger hitting her like a blow. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what did you think you were doing, talking to Dave when he had a gun pointed at us? You could have been killed!”

  Her own anger rose to the surface. “I could ask the same of you,” she said, raising her chin to look him in the eyes. “You’re the one who attacked him bare-handed.”