by Geri Krotow
“She is still both, in fact.” Nash wasn’t going to pussyfoot around it.
“Does that have anything to do with why you’ve taken such an interest in her safety?” Uncle Jim’s voice had the same positive inflection his mother’s had had. A sharp pang of grief tugged deep in Nash’s chest.
His first instinct was to blow Uncle Jim off and make light of his query. But the man who’d helped Nash piece his and the kids’ lives back together deserved more. Besides, Uncle Jim knew him well and would know he was lying.
“Yeah, it does. But don’t say anything to Aunt Clara for now. I don’t know how it’ll go and I don’t want to get her hopes up.” Aunt Clara had done everything but hold a rally in downtown Red Ridge and Sioux Falls to find a woman for Nash. She was certain that the right partner would make his time raising the kids go more quickly, and help Nash through his grief.
She hadn’t been wrong; his night with Patience had underscored to him how lonely he’d been. And how downright horny he was. Except his sexual needs and fantasies were always centered around Patience, ever since he’d started working more closely with her at the K9 clinic. As if their attraction to one another had always been there and only waited for the perfect time—the night after their last K9 training workshop—to come to the surface.
And now they were going to have a baby together.
“You still there, Nash?”
“Yeah, just checking on Greta. We’re out walking through the woods.”
“I imagine it’s beautiful up on that mountain.”
“It is, but again, please don’t mention it to anyone. I’ve got to keep her here safe and sound until we know it’s clear for her to go back to her home in Red Ridge.”
“No worries there. Don’t you worry about the kids, Nash. They’re older and understand your responsibility to the community. Just do your job and we’ll all be waiting for you when it’s done.”
“Thanks so much, Uncle Jim.”
He disconnected the call and looked around the cabin’s perimeter for any signs of a prowler who’d come while he and Patience had slept. And made love. As cunning as the murderer was, Nash had learned over the years that someone being where he or she shouldn’t always left a trace. It was very difficult for a human being to leave zero evidence behind.
“Greta, work.” He moved her through the task of sniffing around the cabin and surrounding woods, but she never alerted to anything unusual. He was confident that she’d tell him if she smelled anything from the boat the man had used to dump the body.
Nash heard the door open and watched as Patience came outside. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks had the color of ripe peaches. Her rest had done her good. He shouldn’t feel the resulting swirl of satisfaction over something so simple. Sure, he was here to help keep her safe, but he’d not been the one to make her sleep. It was just the paternal connection; he was happy the mother of his future child was doing better.
It couldn’t totally be due to how hard she’d come in his arms.
“I need to go to the clinic.” Patience walked up to him. They watched Greta sniff through a pile of dried pine needles. Nash called her to his side, where she dutifully sat.
“We can leave now, if you’d like. I have to head in to the station, and you do, too—you need to give your description to the sketch artist.”
“I want to bring my car back here, Nash. I can’t be tied to you forever.” And yet she was. She carried his child. When would this new reality stop taking his breath away?
“It’s not safe for you to go back and forth on your own. Not yet. And the killer knows your vehicle and will follow you here in a heartbeat.”
“If he’s still around. Don’t you think he may have taken off for now? He has to know the entire county, the state even, is looking for him.”
“That may be true, but I’m not willing to take any chances, Patience.”
Her chin rose in what he knew was her unconscious signal that she wasn’t going to bend. “I have choices here, Nash. Being pregnant doesn’t change that.”
Their eyes met, and besides the instant zing to his crotch that always accompanied eye contact with her, he felt something different. Something that they were building together.
Trust.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Patience. You’re as knowledgeable as I am about this case at this point. And it’s totally your call as to whether we travel together or solo. But you can’t blame me for having an added interest, can you? You’re pregnant with my baby.”
“A baby I told you I don’t expect you to help me with.” Her gaze softened a notch. “Although I guess I haven’t been too understanding. You’ve had a lot to process these last hours, too.”
“Let’s get to the station while the sketch artist is still there.” Keeping to the business at hand suited him best. He’d thought he wanted to have a heart-to-heart with her about how they’d handle raising the baby together, but she was right. He needed some time to process.
Chapter 8
Glad that Nash had to focus on the road back into town, Patience used the time for self-examination. Something about him made her words come out ahead of her thoughts. She wasn’t used to curbing her usual forthright manner, or having to engage her mental filter so much.
In her family and at the clinic, she was pragmatic, and prided herself on speaking her mind. It made life easier for all. The emotional tug-of-war she felt whenever she was around Nash called for a different tactic, and worst of all, her namesake. She needed to be more patient with Nash. He’d only just found out he was going to be a father, and hadn’t had time to come to terms with the ramifications. Instead of being free to be a bachelor in six years as he deserved, when his youngest brother came of age, he’d have to start the clock over the minute the baby was born.
Her baby. She couldn’t think about it as theirs, or about his paternity, without her emotions taking her to dangerous places. To a life where she’d have a partner to share everything with, including the joy of raising a child together.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Nash was barreling down the mountain road, obviously as eager as she was to be back in civilization. Greta sat in the rear, her canine seat belt keeping her almost one hundred fifty pounds from flying into the front between their seats.
“I’m trying to remember the exact details of the murderer’s face, so that I don’t mess up with the artist.”
“You can’t mess up. Just tell her what you saw, and you’ll know right away if her drawing matches.”
“You’re right.” It was easier, safer to talk to Nash about work. “How long before we catch him, do you think?”
She watched his profile as he made the turn onto the highway that was a straight shot into Red Ridge. “No telling. He’s a professional, that much is clear. And I’m not a detective, so I’m not privy to all the details on the case, not as they happen. Unless it pertains to your safety. You know as much as I do. We can ask for a recap when we get there.”
“That would be good. That should take about an hour, right? I do have to go by the clinic at some point today, Nash.”
“It’s too risky.”
“Hear me out. You can drive me there in a police vehicle. I’ll wear a ski cap and borrow your jacket. I only need a half hour or so. I want to check on my patients and make sure my staff doesn’t feel like I abandoned them.”
“I doubt they feel that way.”
“You know what I mean. They need to know I’m still around and should be called with any concerns that come up.” Although she had to admit the staff at the clinic were very good at their jobs. “And I want my car back. Or at least a vehicle of my own. I’ll rent one for the time being.”
His face stilled. “That’s awfully expensive. I doubt it’s in the RRPD budget.”
“I’ll pay for it myself.”
“Of course you will.”
“Wait a minute—why does that sound like an accusation?” She’d had her share of being judged because of the Colton fortune. Some people had a hard time believing a wealthy person had the same morals as the average citizen.
“You’re used to being able to pay for whatever you want, I’d assume. It’s a fair assessment, isn’t it? Your father is Fenwick Colton. He practically owns all of South Dakota.”
“Not true. He owns the most successful energy company in the state, yes.” Colton Energy was having some financial issues, but Patience knew her dad would find a way to regroup. A way that hopefully didn’t include Layla marrying as part of some deal. “And do I have a trust fund? Of course—but as I’ve already told you, I haven’t touched it except to take loans out for college and vet school. And due to scholarships and the K9 research I did, I was able to pay back into said trust fund entirely. I paid for my schooling, my town house and the cabin all on my own.” She felt a niggle of guilt and blurted out its cause. “Okay, I used a little bit of the funds to renovate the cabin. It was better than accepting the huge McMansion my father wanted to give me after I graduated.” She and all her siblings had offered to turn their trust funds over to Fenwick to help out the business, but he’d said all of them combined would barely make a dent in the issues.
“If I were your father and could afford it, I’d give you the world after such a great accomplishment.”
“You obviously love your siblings, and I’ve no doubt you’d do anything for them. What am I saying? You are doing everything for them. You’ve given up a single lifestyle for them. But my father isn’t as altruistic. He never supported me going to vet school. He was beyond annoyed that I refused to major in finance or business at university, like Layla did. Layla’s our daddy’s favorite—because she works for Colton Energy.”
“I know Layla.”
He said it in a neutral manner, but Patience read past his ambiguous demeanor. Everyone in town knew Layla; she was an assertive, take-no-prisoners businesswoman at Colton Energy. And unknown to Nash, she was secretly engaged to that slimy jerk Hamlin. The thought of it made Patience’s stomach more queasy than the baby did.
“Tell me, if you’re not close to your father, why do you still call him Daddy?”
His question caught her up short. “Habit’s the easiest answer. But I guess I’ve never stopped being the daughter who wants her father’s approval. I don’t need it, and don’t care about it now, but it would have been nice if just once he’d acknowledged my work, you know?” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s a way to keep him smaller in my mind, to not have him be that bigger-than-life person that his reputation promotes.”
“It must be hard being a Colton.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, I’m serious. Everyone knows your family name, and makes immediate judgments.”
“Except you. You’ve never given me the impression you think less, or more, of me because I’m a Colton. Except for this recent slam.”
“I’m sorry, Patience.” Sincerity laced his tone.
She shrugged. “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.” She heard the edge to her words too late. “My turn to be sorry, Nash. Knowing the Lake Killer is looking for me is affecting my attitude.”
“Completely normal.” He stared through the windshield and she knew he, too, felt extra stress—the stress of protecting her.
The road stretched out in front of them for the last thirty minutes of the drive.
“This is going to get old, Nash. Driving back and forth to the cabin. You and Greta need to be closer to town, in case of an emergency, don’t you?”
“Not happening, Patience. And stop trying to manipulate your way out of it.”
Underneath her independence she had a moment of serenity—or was it relief?—that Nash was going to keep her safe from the Lake Killer.
Sometimes it didn’t hurt to have a partner.
* * *
Nash pulled into the station lot, killed the engine and turned to Patience. “Take as long as you need in there. I’ll work out finding you a plain car to use for now. You’re right, you need to be able to come and go as needed. But I’m only going to agree to this if you don’t fight me on staying overnight with you at the cabin. You’ll need at least two weapons—a rifle and your RRPD-issued .45—with you at all times and in the cabin. And if I have to remain in town past usual hours you’ll have to stay near me, too. I don’t want you at the cabin alone for any stretch of time.”
Her face was a study in conflict as she bit her lip, her eyes bright with anger. “I’m not one of your siblings, Nash. And don’t you need to get back home to them? Your aunt and uncle can’t stay forever, can they?”
“Actually, they can. They both work from home and run their own business on their laptops. And this won’t take forever. We’ll catch the man you saw on the lake, Patience.”
“Let’s go.” She let herself out of the car and walked up to the station.
Nash stayed in his seat for a minute. “We’ve got to give her space, Greta. But we’re not backing down on the baby business.” He spoke to the dog as he watched Patience go into the building, then turned and looked at his K9 partner. “We’re going to have another member of the family. Two, if she’ll ever agree to raise the baby with me.”
* * *
“Pale blue eyes with a vacant look to them.” Patience gave the sketch artist every single detail she remembered. She’d seen that kind of expression only once before, when she’d had to testify in court against a hardened drug dealer who’d shot at one of the K9s. Patience had saved the dog’s life, since local police officers had brought the injured Malinois to her within minutes, a tourniquet around its left hind leg.
“Are you sure you saw the color in the dark?” The sketch artist kept moving her hand as she questioned Patience.
“Like I said, the moon was full and I was using binoculars. I’d gone out to see if the great horned owls were in their usual perch and instead saw this man dumping a body.”
“You said he had short hair?”
“Yes. That was harder to tell, as he was wearing a dark ski cap, but I noticed blond or gray hair coming out around it.” Her hands started shaking and the artist noted the fact.
“Take a sip of water. We can break at any time.”
“I’m okay. I know you’ll get a better likeness the more I remember, and that memory fades quickly.” She hadn’t expected it to be so tough, but the Lake Killer wanted her dead. Of course, it would be scary going over his appearance again.
“We’ve got a lot already. How does this look?” The artist turned her smart tablet around and revealed what she had so far.
Patience gasped. “I had no idea you’d make it so perfect. Your talent is amazing. It’s like you took a photograph of him!”
The woman smiled. “It’s my job. Lucky for us, your observational skills are top-notch. Sometimes I barely get more than the description of eyes and a nose out of a witness, trust me.”
“So we’re done?”
She nodded. “For now. I’ll get this uploaded to our system.”
Patience thanked the artist and went in search of Nash. He was in a meeting with the chief and other officers, but saw her as she passed by the conference area, and waved her over. He motioned for her to take the empty chair next to his.
“Any luck?” he whispered, leaning close to her ear. The intimate contact of his heated breath on her skin made her self-conscious, but not before her body reacted. The warmth only Nash lit fired in her belly and reached out to her most intimate parts. She looked around, but the other officers paid scant notice to her as they listened to Finn, who was outlining the details of the case so far.
“Yes,” she whispered back, then saw the image of the criminal flash up on the RRPD smart board. “It’s there!”
Nash turned to look and Finn nodded at Pa
tience.
“Thank you, Dr. Colton.” He used her formal title in front of the others. “You’ve provided a detailed description to our artist. This is the man we’re looking for, everyone.”
“Chief, is there any chance this is also the Groom Killer?” One of the officers spoke up and Patience stiffened. The Groom Killer was why so many in town, including Layla, had canceled long-planned weddings and postponed announcing their engagements.
“Doubtful. We’ve just got information that the victim was wrapped up in drug dealing. We’ll know more as soon as the coroner releases his report, but I think we’re looking at a different case. But we’re not sure about anything until proven, right?”
“When are we going to sweep the lake again?” Nash asked, and the chief called up the officer in charge of the lake crime scene.
“I’ll let Officer Billings fill you in.”
Tom Billings nodded. “Good afternoon, everyone. As the chief said, we’ve done an initial sweep and found no further bodies, but we’re going to need to dive to figure out what our equipment was catching on. It could be a sunken boat, but we’re not sure. Nash, I’ll need you and Greta in the morning at first light.”
“You got it.”
Patience leaned close to Nash. “I need to go to the clinic now, and then I’ll come back with you in the morning.”
She heard his sharp intake of breath, saw the pulse pounding on the side of his temple. He didn’t want to leave her side and she didn’t want to lose the sense of connection to him. But they were both professionals and had a job to do. Whatever it would take to catch both killers.
Patience, like Nash, prided herself on putting duty first. But her vocation didn’t keep her from wishing things were different. That she and Nash could spend time together, at her cabin, for reasons other than security.
* * *
Nash drove Patience to the K9 facility. Leaving her there dismayed him, but it was still light out and she wouldn’t be alone for long. He procured her a car from the station pool, an old beat-up sedan that looked nothing like the late-model SUV she normally drove. That vehicle would stay parked in the RRPD lot, so if the murderer knew it was her car, he wouldn’t follow her to the cabin.