by Cynthia Eden
“Over here!” a woman’s voice called. Anthony’s head jerked up, and he saw an older woman and man, both wearing robes and slippers, hurrying toward them. The man had a blanket in his hands.
“My neighbors,” Lauren managed to gasp. “Jim and Suzy Baker…”
When Jim and Suzy Baker got a good look at Anthony and the gun clutched in his hands, they stopped rushing to the rescue.
They both froze, and Suzy looked like she might pass out.
“I’m a marshal,” he called out. He was not putting that gun away. “There’s a killer here. He was in the house.”
“We saw a man run…” Jim pointed to the right. “That way. He was in a Jeep, and we yelled for him to stop.”
A Jeep?
“But he didn’t.” Suzy was creeping closer again, holding out the blanket to wrap around Lauren. “He just revved the engine and drove even faster.”
The fire truck was coming closer, the siren wailing louder.
Behind them, Lauren’s house burned. The heat of the flames was hot against his skin.
He brushed Lauren’s arm, trying to get her to step farther away from the fire.
The flames were crackling. The wood collapsing. The house that had known death was burning to the ground.
They could have burned with it.
Was that the killer’s plan? To shoot them, then burn their bodies? When the fire spread too fast and the neighbors had come running, he’d been forced to flee.
The fire truck raced around the corner. The lights swept over the scene.
“Did you see a tag number?” Anthony demanded of the Bakers.
Jim shook his head. “Too dark. He didn’t turn on any lights when he rushed away.”
“Anthony!” Lauren had just lifted her hand. He could see the dark liquid staining her fingers. “You’re hurt!”
He didn’t know if the blood came from the bullet that had scraped across his arm or from the glass that had still lined the window. He’d made sure the glass cut into him, not her, as they fled. “It’s nothing.” He could handle a little blood.
He caught her hands in his and held them tight. He was so sick of killers screwing with them.
His gaze darted from Jim to Suzy. “Did you see anything that could identify the driver? Any specific details about the Jeep?”
Jim straightened his shoulders. The house was still burning. Lauren was staring at the flames.
Jim was staring at him. “It…looked like a Jeep Wrangler, the top was off, the color was…dark…” He shook his head. “I was so worried about Lauren, about who might be inside, I didn’t look long enough…”
Jeep Wrangler.
Wesley had a Jeep Wrangler.
Coincidence?
I don’t believe in them.
Wesley knew the swamp. Wesley had been in the area at the time of Jenny’s disappearance. Wesley was the one who’d said he’d help them locate Walker in the woods…only they’d never located Walker when Wesley had taken them out. And when they’d been searching so desperately for Lauren, it had been Wesley who’d mistakenly led him down the wrong path, though Wesley swore he knew the area better than anyone else.
The wrong way…
Because he purposely led us the wrong way?
The firefighters leaped into action. Patrol cars rushed to the scene. An ambulance raced up the road.
“Help!” Lauren called out when she saw the EMTs. “He’s hurt!”
Anthony tightened his hold on her. “Forget that.” He’d deal with the scratch later. He grabbed the first cop he saw. “We need to put out an alert for a Jeep Wrangler that left the scene.”
The fire reflected in the uniform’s wide eyes.
“The driver of that Jeep just tried to kill us.”
Could the driver be Wesley?
One way to find out.
“Get Detective Voyt on the radio. Tell him to head out to Wesley Hawthorne’s house.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to make sure the man’s not a fucking killer.”
He raced from the scene as quickly as he could. The fucking fire shouldn’t have burned him. He’d tried to keep the gas off him, but the shit had splashed back.
Now his fingers were blistered, red, and that was a condition he couldn’t easily explain away.
Shit, shit, shit!
He slammed his hands into the steering wheel. They throbbed even more at the impact. Stupid. He’d planned this so perfectly. Even let the neighbors catch sight of his vehicle…all so he could have his end game.
The DA wanted Walker’s killer stopped. The marshal wasn’t giving up the hunt until he had a body. Well, he’d intended to give them that body.
I still will.
He just had to find a way around his injury. He could make this work.
There was still time.
He could do this.
His fingers fucking hurt.
The pain fueled his rage, and he couldn’t wait to get back to the victim waiting for him. He was so ready to kill.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After finding Karen’s body in her house, Lauren had known she’d never be able to live there again.
Now she didn’t have to worry about that. The house was gutted, the flames only now sputtering out thanks to the firefighters.
The fire had burned so hard. So fast.
He was there. He took my necklace. He’s tried to take everything.
She had the blanket around her shoulders, but she wasn’t cold. With that much heat in the air, how could anyone be cold?
Anthony had gotten patched up, only because she’d dragged an EMT over to him.
More cops swarmed the scene. Paul rushed up on his motorcycle. The guy always liked to ride it when he was off duty. He shoved down his kickstand and raced toward her.
“Lauren!” He grabbed her. Held her tight. The scent of smoke was so strong in the air. “What the hell happened?” He pushed her back. “Why are you even here?”
“She wanted her necklace.” Anthony was the one who answered. “Only the bastard was waiting for us.”
Anthony glanced back at the charred remains of the house. “Jesus,” Paul said.
“Did you find Hawthorne?” Anthony demanded.
Paul shook his head. “You can’t actually think he—”
“A Jeep Wrangler left the scene. Our killer knows the swamp. Hell, when it comes to the swamp, you told me yourself, no one knows the area like Hawthorne.”
Paul’s shoulders dropped. “He’s a friend. We’ve been friends since high school. We were on the football team together.”
“I don’t care if you were fucking frat brothers together, I want to know where he is.” Anthony’s control was gone. Burned away.
So was the ice that had protected Lauren. She was raw and desperate.
Anthony was enraged and dangerous.
“I sent a patrol by his home.” Paul swallowed. “He wasn’t there. His Jeep was gone.”
“Where is he?”
“His boss said they got a report of some nuisance gators in the area. He thinks Wesley went into the swamp to check things out.” Paul’s words tumbled out fast. “He’s just out doing his job.”
“Is he?” Doubt was heavy in the two words.
Paul straightened. “I’ll find him. His boss is gonna page him. Gonna send some men to help me go out and meet up with him, but I’m telling you…it isn’t Wesley.”
“When we find him, we’ll know for sure.”
Lauren dropped the blanket.
“Look, the task force is meeting at the station,” Paul said. “The FBI agents want you both to come in, then we can figure out what the hell our next move is.”
Anthony wasn’t moving.
“You have to come in,” Paul said, his voice almost beseeching. “The police chief ordered us all back. After this…” He threw another glance at the fire. “He wants a full rundown of every detail Greg has discovered with his tests. Come in.”
“I want Ha
wthorne.”
“We’ll find him!” Paul backed up a step. His hands clenched. He was wearing his riding gloves. She saw the dark outline of the gloves when his knuckles curled. “But the chief wants us there within the hour.”
Anthony stared steadily back at him. “Fine. We’ll be there.” He took Lauren’s arms. “Let’s go.”
Shock held her silent. This was it. They were just…walking away. In his car, a bubble of hysterical laughter nearly broke from her. “It’s never going to end.”
The killer would keep coming for her until she joined her sister in death.
“Yes. It fucking is.” He jerked the gearshift into reverse and spun them out of the drive. She glanced at him and saw the muscle flexing in the hard line of his jaw.
“Tony?”
He had his phone out and at his ear. “Matt? Where are you?”
She couldn’t hear the other marshal’s response, but Anthony said, “Good. We’re on the way. Call the techs. I want them to run a trace on this number.” He rattled off a telephone number. “It belongs to a Wesley Hawthorne. Yeah, the agent with Fish and Wildlife. I want to know the location of his phone. Hell, yes, the techs can figure that. If the phone is on, they can trace the signal and tell us exactly where he is.”
Her fingers hurt, and she realized it was because she had them so tightly twisted in her lap.
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Anthony said and ended the call. The SUV started to move faster.
She swallowed to ease the dryness of her throat. She could taste the fire. “You really think it’s Wesley?”
“I think I want the cops pulling over every Jeep Wrangler that’s out on the streets tonight. I want the tags and registrations for every guy who drives a Jeep, every guy who matches Cadence’s profile.” He slanted her a fast look. “But right now, we already know Hawthorne matches that profile, so I want to know just where the hell he is.”
She wanted to know where he was, too.
“If Voyt won’t question Hawthorne, then the marshals can find him.” He flashed her a tiger’s smile. “And we’ll do the questioning on our own.”
Anthony rushed through the hotel lobby, heading fast for his old room, a room still booked in his name because he controlled the hotel block for the task force. Lauren was at his side, looking shaken and scared.
The elevator doors slid closed behind them, sealing them inside.
“There’s ash on your cheek.” He stepped toward her. Cupped her cheek. Wiped away the smear on her delicate flesh.
It could have been so much more than ash. The killer could have shot her. Burned her body. Burned us both. The house would have become our grave.
He wasn’t ready to die yet.
“I have a backup weapon in my room. I want you to take it and keep it with you.”
She nodded. “What are you planning to do?”
“If Hawthorne has used his phone in the last hour, the techs will trace it.” Big Brother was most definitely watching, in ways most people didn’t even realize. “We’ve got satellite links tracing his phone’s signal. We can pinpoint his location, and we will find the guy tonight.”
There would be no more vanishing into the swamps. No more taking prey.
Not gonna happen.
The elevator doors slid open.
He took her hand. The doors to Matt and Jim’s rooms were shut. He brushed past them and headed to his room. In less than a minute, he’d opened the safe in his closet and pulled out the backup weapon. He checked it, loaded it, and made sure that it would blow a hole in anyone dumb enough to go at Lauren.
He turned back to her.
Her head was tilted down, her blonde hair shielding her face. She looked so damn small and breakable.
The fire could have taken her from me.
No. He never would have left her alone in the fire. He couldn’t leave her.
When he’d walked away before, he’d left part of himself in Baton Rouge. The obsession hadn’t ended. It had just grown deeper, wilder.
Because it wasn’t just an obsession?
He glanced down at the gun. What the hell was he doing? Planning on dragging her out to confront a killer with him? She’d been through enough. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “I’ll take you to the station.” She was the DA. She got her justice in a courtroom. Not in some gator-infested swamp.
At his words, Lauren’s head whipped up and her eyes locked on him. In her bright, blue stare, he didn’t see anything fragile. He saw fury. Determination. Strength.
Lauren stalked toward him closing the distance between them. “You honestly think I’ll sit back and let you go out there, after all he’s done?”
“It’s not your job to hunt—”
She shook her head and held out her hand. “Give me the damn gun.”
“Lauren…”
“My life. My sister’s life. You think I’m going to sit on the sidelines now?” Her laugh was bitter, piercing. “Hell, how do you even know that isn’t exactly what he wants? To separate us? To divide and conquer. Divide and kill? He couldn’t take us out when we were together at my house, so what if the plan now is to go at us separately?”
I want him to come at me. I just don’t want him going after you.
“Where you go, I go.” Her voice was flat, but her eyes gleamed with a combination of strength and fury that was truly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. She was so beautiful he hurt. “I’m not backing away. I’m not running away. I am going to finish this. I owe it to Jenny to finish this.”
Lauren looked down at the gun in her hands.
He had to ask, “Could you shoot to kill if it comes to that?”
Her head tilted back so she could meet his eyes. “He stabbed my sister seventeen times.” There was no mask on her now. Raw emotion shone on her face. “Yes, I could do it. I could do it in an instant.”
Lauren was talking about revenge. He knew she deserved the justice she’d wanted for so long.
Taking a life wasn’t easy. What would killing do to her?
His fingers closed around hers. Around the weapon he’d given to her. “I will kill him for you.” A promise. He wasn’t talking about bringing the guy in. Wasn’t talking about forcing Lauren to go through a long trial and, then, Christ forbid, another situation like Walker’s.
Her lips parted in surprise. “You’re the good guy, Anthony. You catch the criminals.”
Not kill them.
But for her…to keep her safe…
He took the gun from her. Put it on the bed. Backed her up against the nearest wall and caged her with his body. He wanted her to see him exactly as he was. Far from good. Far from perfect. With a darkness inside that would always burn.
“I would do any fucking thing if it meant you were safe.” His hands flattened on either side of her head. “Don’t you know that?”
Her eyes widened.
“You matter.” He growled out the words. “You’re the thing in this world, the only fucking thing, I can’t live without. I know, I tried living without you for years, and I was so damn miserable. A hole was in my chest, and every day, I was just going through the motions. Hoping no one saw just how lost I was.”
Because when he’d left her, that was exactly what he’d been…lost.
“I went through my days, and my nights…at night, I dreamed of you. Fantasized about you. Wanted you in my bed and in my arms so fucking badly.”
His mouth took hers. He couldn’t hold back. She was there, and he needed her more than breath. The kiss was frantic and hard with the desperation that drove him. Her lips parted beneath his. His tongue thrust into her mouth.
Lauren tasted of hope, of every dream he’d ever had.
No one would take those dreams away. No one would take her away.
Her breasts pressed to his chest. He could feel the tight nipples, and he wanted them in his mouth. Wanted her naked. Wanted his cock driving into her so deeply she didn’t know what it was to be apart from him. He wan
ted to give her pleasure, so much pleasure that it washed away her pain.
He wanted to give her everything.
And he would.
Using all of his control, he pulled his mouth from hers. “I love you.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have snarled the words. He could have tried romance and class, dining and—
Screw that. They were surrounded by death, and he wanted her to know just how he felt.
Only now she was staring at him in shock, her mouth swollen from his kiss, her cheeks flushed, and her brilliant eyes glittering.
“I always thought love made you a better person,” he whispered to her. “That it made you good. That it was gentle and kind.” Wasn’t that what all the books said? All the sappy movies?
Lauren was still staring up at him, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
So he kept talking.
“The way I feel about you isn’t…gentle.” How could he make her understand? He was screwing this up, but he had to tell her. Before anything else happened. Before another monster was at the door. “The way I feel about you—it’s wild and it’s dark. I want you with me all the time. I want your body, your heart. I want you to need me as much as I need you.”
It fucking sounded like obsession, and that wasn’t what he wanted. He was trying to explain that it was more than just a dark need. He’d discovered it was more.
Anthony sucked in a deep breath. “I want you happy.” That was love, right? Only…I’d kill to make her happy. “You’re the dream I’ve had every night for the last five years. You’re the first thing in my head each morning. When I think about my future, I want it with you.” Anything, as long as it was with her.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
The door banged a few feet away. “Ross!” It was Matt’s voice. “I got the tech on the phone! We’ve got a hit!”
Why now?
Because if something happened, and he didn’t manage to survive the killer’s attack, he wanted her to understand how he felt about her. That it wasn’t just sex, wasn’t just the lust that would never be slaked.
Matt’s fist hit the door again. “Ross!”
“Because you’re the person who matters to me. The only woman I’ve loved, and no matter what else happens, you need to know that.” He wasn’t asking her to love him back, but he wanted her to.