Lethal Edge

by Kaylea Cross

  Humor shone in his eyes. “It means I’m the master of this game.”

  Wait. “You have a dungeons and dragons T-shirt?”

  “Hell yeah, I do,” he said with pride, winking at Rylee. “I played it back in high school, and now it’s having a resurgence.”

  “It’s true, all my friends play it. It’s awesome,” Rylee said, still making notes.

  Huh. Until now Avery had thought it was something nerds played in their parents’ basements. “Okay then.” Rylee helped her through the process of creating a character, then Mason began the game.

  She’d expected to hate it, but in actuality, Avery found herself entranced by Mason’s deep voice as he began to set the scene, his descriptions so vivid she could picture the medieval village in her mind. She followed Rylee’s lead, asking questions and as they navigated their way through the adventure, rolling different weird-shaped dice that determined the outcome of various decisions.

  By lunchtime they’d defeated a group of bandit assassins and killed the main villain responsible for holding the town hostage. She was so into it, she was surprised when her phone vibrated, and saw how much time had passed already.

  But it wasn’t Tate or Nina calling. She silenced it, then glanced up to meet Mason’s questioning gaze with a subtle shake of her head.

  “So, what do you think so far?” Rylee asked her eagerly. “You like it?”

  “Yeah, I do.” It was immersive, and sure made the time pass.

  “Good.” Smiling, she turned to Mason. “Carry on, dungeon master.”

  “As you wish, lady ranger.”

  Avery watched him, found herself drawn more and more to him while he continued the game. He was well aware that something bad had happened, but he didn’t let on, and was doing a fantastic job of keeping Rylee distracted. She had to give him points for that, even if she didn’t fully trust him. She’d already made the mistake of getting involved with a smooth operator, and had the divorce papers to prove it.

  ****

  Tate still had no idea what the hell was going on when he arrived at the main police headquarters in Missoula.

  Avery had shown up at his house forty-five minutes ago to say Nina needed him for something important, related to Samantha’s case, and promised to stay with Rylee. She wouldn’t tell him what it was about, only that Nina was okay and needed him.

  That worried him, especially since she’d asked for him and not Avery, her best friend. Wondering what it was about had driven him insane the entire drive down here, his brain coming up with one awful scenario after another, each one worse than the last. He’d called Nina twice on the way to try and talk to her about whatever was happening, but she wouldn’t pick up.

  Worry churned in his gut. Had she seen or heard something on campus that related to Samantha’s case?

  He jogged up the station’s front steps and pushed the front door open. His friend Greg appeared from around the corner partway down the hall.

  “Tate. This way.”

  Tate rushed toward him. “Is she all right?” His first concern was for Nina. The second, how she fit into Samantha’s case.

  “Yes. She’s in here.” Greg led him down another short hall and paused beside a closed door. “I’ll just give you guys a while to talk alone before we start the interview.” He opened the door for Tate.

  Anxious to see her, Tate stepped inside. Nina rose from a chair across the room and gave him a wobbly smile that made his insides tighten in dread. She was pale. And her eyes were puffy, as though she’d been crying. His stomach muscles grabbed. “Nina, what’s going on?”

  Greg shut the door behind Tate, and Nina indicated the chair closest to him. “Can you sit?”

  He sat, his muscles wound like springs as he tried to get a read on the situation. She was clearly upset. Whatever she was going to say had to be bad. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He relaxed only a fraction. “Avery said you wanted to talk to me about something connected with Samantha’s murder.”

  She nodded. Started pacing in front of him, moving from Greg’s desk to the far wall and back again while the tension in the room ratcheted higher. “When you told me about Samantha, about where she was found, and knowing that she and Rylee had been drugged at the bar the other night… I had to come forward. I’m just sorry I didn’t come forward sooner, and that I’m telling you this way.”

  Telling him what? He held his frustration in check and watched her, waiting, his pulse drumming in his ears.

  She blew out a breath, seemed to struggle with herself before stopping and facing him, the pain in her eyes stabbing him in the chest. “I was raped at the end of last semester.”

  The air rushed out of his lungs, his hands curling around the edge of his chair. No…

  “It’s why I spent the summer back home, to get away for a while. Anyway, I was drugged at a bar here in Missoula and woke up almost naked hours later in a similar spot to where Samantha was found.” She fidgeted with the edge of her skirt. “I’m afraid it might be the same guy.”

  It felt like someone had slammed a sledgehammer into his gut. “Oh, sunshine, no,” he breathed, his voice full of anguish. The thought of her going through something like that tore him up.

  Nina glanced away. “I didn’t report it. I was out with some faculty members. We’d had dinner, then out to a bar for drinks after. They eventually left and I stayed. I’d been drinking a lot. Flirting with a couple different guys. They bought me drinks. Danced with me. I only have flashes of memory after that.”

  Tate resisted the urge to drag a hand through his hair, making himself sit absolutely still as she continued, his heart sinking.

  Nina resumed pacing, not looking at him. She was clearly agitated, her cheeks flushed, her breathing erratic and her voice tight as she tried to get through what she wanted to say. “I don’t remember anything after the bar except getting into a pickup with a guy. I don’t know who. Then flashes later inside it, when he…”

  She trailed off, and it was all Tate could do to remain sitting in his chair while she suffered in front of him. But he didn’t want to interrupt or stop her. Needed to at least let her vent all of this and listen.

  “I woke up outside alone in the middle of the night, on the riverbank, and didn’t know what had happened. I was mostly naked and had obviously been dumped there, so I figured I’d been…assaulted, plus I was tender. But I wasn’t sure who I’d been with. Couldn’t even remember his face to give a description, let alone a name. So I went straight to the hospital instead of the police and had a rape exam.”

  Oh, thank God. At least she’d told someone, and been checked out. “Were you injured? Physically?”

  “No. And there was no DNA evidence. He’d used a condom. And I honestly couldn’t say I hadn’t given my consent, because I didn’t remember any of it, but I don’t think I did. They didn’t find skin beneath my fingernails. No foreign hairs on me or my clothes, no defensive injuries that suggested I tried to fight him off. Thankfully I didn’t get an STI or anything.”

  She swallowed, her pain and embarrassment difficult to witness. “The worst part is the not knowing. Not knowing who it was, or what had actually happened. I’d had a lot to drink, but not enough to make me black out. Did I agree to go with him from the bar? Clearly I didn’t try to fight him off, because of whatever he’d given me. And because I don’t remember any of it, it had to be because I was unconscious.”

  Tate ached to hold her. Pull her to him and try to absorb some of her pain. He hated to watch her hurting and not be able to stop it. Hated that she’d been violated and left to question whether it was partially her fault all this time.

  Pausing to pull in a steadying breath, she wiped the heel of her hand under her eyes and continued. “I was new to town, and it was my first semester as a professor. Like I said, I’d been out with faculty, and they’d all seen me drinking and flirting. I didn’t want them to find out what had happened. I was embarrassed and ashamed.
>
  “I’d worn a sexy dress and heels that night, and I’d had way too much to drink. I was afraid that people would say it was my fault, or that no one would believe that it was rape, when I couldn’t even be sure of it myself. I didn’t want to be branded as a slut by my colleagues.”

  Tate closed his eyes for a second, he couldn’t help it. He’d heard this same thing from so many women during his time as a cop. As a man and an officer of the law it sickened and shamed him, filled him with a helpless fury that victims were afraid to come forward for fear of not being believed, of even being blamed for their attack.

  Opening his eyes, he focused on Nina and shook his head, wishing he could make this all go away for her. “I’m so sorry.”

  She dismissed his words with a tight frown and resumed pacing. “Anyway, Montana law states that if a victim chooses not to report the crime at the time of a medical exam, then the information obtained during it is classified as medical information. Which is protected by federal and state law. But given that my case might be linked with others, including Rylee and Samantha, I’ve changed my mind, and now that information will become confidential criminal justice information. I’m hoping there will be enough evidence in it—something—to help catch this guy.”

  She stopped and stared at him, the haunted look in her eyes making his entire chest hurt. “I wish I’d reported it initially.”

  A barrage of emotions hit him. Anger, grief, helplessness. He was desperate to touch her. To erase the distance between them and pull her into his arms so he could hold her tight against him. Comfort her. Protect her. Reassure her it wasn’t her fault.

  He also wanted to hunt down the son of a bitch who’d done this and beat him into a coma.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Tate ground out, his voice like gravel as his mind spun, trying to digest everything. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  It had to be the same guy Tate had been hunting two years ago here in Missoula. Those three other cases and the most recent ones had the same MO. All the victims were young, attractive brunettes in their late teens to early thirties who either attended or worked at the university. They’d all been drugged. Then dumped near the river.

  Tate was betting there were more victims who hadn’t come forward.

  Rage built, burning through the pain in his chest. That bastard had drugged and raped Nina. Had drugged Rylee and her friend, then raped and killed Samantha. Might have done the same to Rylee if he’d managed to take her the other night as well.

  Tate ran a hand over his mouth and chin, not knowing what else to say as he battled the rush of anger surging through his veins as he thought about what Nina had endured.

  God dammit, he hadn’t known. Hadn’t had a clue about what she had gone through earlier this year, alone. Worse, he’d unfairly decided she was naïve and clueless about the harsher realities of the world, not realizing she’d experienced that brutality firsthand in the worst kind of violation a woman could experience.

  Still standing across the room, Nina twisted her fingers, looking uncertain. “But if I’d come forward when it happened back in May, maybe he would have been caught. Now Samantha’s dead, and he almost got Rylee, and I…”

  There was no way in hell he would let her carry that burden on top of everything else.

  “No.” He stood and took a step toward her, unable to keep his distance an instant longer.

  Nina retreated a step. Tate stopped, the shame in her eyes and the way she shrank from him slicing him up inside. “This isn’t on you. None of it,” he said in a low voice, needing her to hear him and believe it. If it was anyone’s fault, it was his, for not catching the bastard before.

  Her gaze dropped to the floor again. “But what if it is?” she whispered, her voice catching.

  Tate swore his heart broke. He felt it crack, the quick, searing pain in the center of his chest. “Sunshine, please come here,” he whispered, holding out a hand to her.

  Nina looked up at him, her hesitation clear. As if she couldn’t believe he would want to touch her now.

  Tate wanted it more than he wanted air to breathe.

  He kept his hand out, his heart thudding against his ribs. It seemed like a small eternity as she slowly reached for it. The instant her chilled fingers touched his, Tate held on and drew her close.

  He wrapped his arms around her tight and squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face into her hair, one hand cupping the back of her head. Trying to surround her.

  A tiny shudder sped through her. She was rigid at first, but when he remained silent and just kept holding her tight, eventually she began to relax.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t want anyone to know,” she murmured.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just so goddamn sorry you went through all that.” And that he hadn’t been able to take the motherfucker responsible off the street while he was still on the case.

  Her arms crept around his waist and she leaned into him, making his heart clench. “Do you think it’s the same guy?”

  “I think there’s a good chance the cases are all related.” Fuck. If Tate had been able to ID the guy, he would have been able to put him away two goddamn years ago, and none of this would have happened. And that part about her being raped in a truck… “God, and then I took you up to that remote lookout point last night in my truck,” he whispered, feeling sick.

  Nina pushed away slightly to look up at him, shaking her head. “No, don’t think that. I wanted to be there with you, it was the most incredible night of my life.”

  He wanted to believe her. “Did it trigger anything for you?”

  “Not even once, I swear.” She cupped the side of his face, her palm and fingers cold against his skin. “I meant what I said, I really do feel safe with you.”

  Thank God. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “You are safe with me. Always.”

  The tremulous smile she gave him threatened to break his heart into more pieces. “I know.” She stepped back and wiped under her eyes again. “Will you stay with me while I talk to your detective friend?”

  “Of course I will.” He wasn’t budging from her side through any of this. She shouldn’t have gone through any of it alone in the first place, and while he couldn’t undo what had happened, he’d do everything he could to be there for her now. “And Nina.”

  She looked up at him.

  “Thank you for telling me.” That had taken a hell of a lot of guts, especially face to face and given that they were involved. He respected and admired that kind of bravery.

  Her smile was wry. “You’re welcome? Actually, I’m glad you know now. I’d wondered if what happened to Rylee and her friend might be related to what happened to me. I just hope there’s enough collective evidence now to find the guy and put him behind bars so he can’t hurt anyone else.”

  “It will.” It had to.

  The most frustrating part was, it was entirely out of Tate’s hands now. This was no longer his case—all his old files and cases had been assigned to Greg.

  All he could do now was take care of Nina and Rylee and hope that the hand of justice captured the asshole responsible for their pain.

  Chapter Fifteen

  She knew.

  Vince couldn’t shake the terrifying thought as he left the parking lot and drove away as quickly as he could without drawing undue attention. The last thing he’d expected was to see Nina Benitez being led up the steps of the police station when he drove by.

  She must have remembered something. Enough to ID him?

  He took the first right, watching his mirrors for any signs of being followed. Paranoia rode him hard. He’d already lied and called in sick to work first thing this morning, because there was no way he could make it through his shift like this. But where the hell did he go now?

  He couldn’t go home. His wife would ask too many questions.

  Nina was talking to the cops right now. S
he’d stayed silent about everything for so long. Maybe she’d come forward now because of Samantha.

  This was bad. So bad. How much had she remembered?

  He ran a hand over his sore face and headed east, toward home. He wouldn’t go there, however. Not yet. Not until he was sure they weren’t coming for him.

  All weekend long he’d been on pins and needles. Waiting to see what happened with Samantha. So many times, he’d been tempted to go to the spot at the river to check. Just to drive by and see whether she was there or not, to ease the agony of suspense.

  He’d thought things couldn’t get any worse. He’d been wrong.

  First the breaking news story on the morning news that Samantha was dead. Someone had found her body while out walking their dog.

  Sweat slicked the base of his spine. He hadn’t meant for it to go that far. He’d thought she’d been alive when he took off. And he’d left her in a secluded spot that was similar to the others, but in a different location. Because it had worked up ‘til now.

  Everything was so chaotic. He still didn’t know how things had gone so wrong.

  He’d given her a high enough dosage that she should have been unconscious until well after he’d finished and left her at the spot he’d chosen. Maybe she hadn’t consumed enough of it, or maybe her body metabolized it faster than normal.

  Whatever it was, she’d come to right in the middle of it, while he was inside her. He’d been on the verge of coming when she’d stirred and opened her eyes in confusion.

  Vince swore his heart had stopped in those few seconds, horror freezing him in place. She’d ruined everything, taken away the rush he’d been craving and the orgasm he’d almost reached.

  It had reminded him too much of the night with Nina. Except Nina had only surfaced briefly, and Samantha hadn’t gone back under.

  He’d known an instant after her eyes opened that she recognized him from campus. She’d said his name, then tried to fight him.