“Yes. Intelligent, tall, stubborn, sexy as hell—your type. And I think you’re in deeper trouble than you think you are.” Kate turned and leaned against the railing.
Evelyn glanced into the living room and watched the two men talk. Her heart fluttered as she caught Marcus sneaking a peek at her.
“Yep.” Kate giggled, nudging Evelyn with her hip again. “So much trouble.”
She’s impossible. Evelyn turned her attention back to the living room. Ryan and Marcus yakked it up, laughing as they exchanged stories about who knew what. Marcus casually raised his eyes and caught her gaze, then lifted his Guinness toward her and smiled. Her pulse thumped against her ears in response to the simple gesture. Maybe it was his choice. Her heart skipped a beat at the mere possibility. Oh, crap. She was in trouble.
* * *
RYAN STOOD. “SHALL we join the ladies?”
Marcus rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. “That obvious?”
“That obvious. Seeing you and Evelyn dance around each other all night has been hilarious to watch, but it’s making me want to gag, man. I’ve had enough.”
“It can’t be a good idea,” Marcus mumbled. He set his empty bottle on the coffee table and rose.
“Never is.” Ryan laughed, slapping Marcus on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Marcus looked at Ryan. “Seriously, O’Neil, your thoughts?”
Ryan sighed and sat back down. He scratched his chin.
“What do I think? I’ve never seen her eyes light up the way they do when you walk in. Ever. She tries to hide it, but I’m her partner and I can read her. Her reaction to you speaks volumes to me. I think she deserves to be happy more than anyone I’ve ever known. You can’t choose who makes you happy. They either do or don’t.” He shrugged, glanced toward Kate and smiled. “It’s pretty simple in my book. So, if you continue to make her eyes light up, if you can make her happy, I’d say go for it. You’re two professional, levelheaded adults who know how to handle themselves.”
Marcus eyes widened. He hadn’t expected Ryan to go there. But in one statement he’d all but given Marcus permission to date his partner, and that made him nervous—and excited. He cleared his throat and reached for his beer.
“That being said, Evelyn Davis is intelligent, stubborn and one of the sexiest women you’ll ever meet. And I know she can take care of herself.” Ryan leaned forward. “But I swear, if you hurt her, Mr. Special Agent Man, in any way, I’ll personally track you down, rip off your balls and shove them down your throat.”
Marcus’s head snapped back at Ryan’s ferocious words. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had threatened him like that. Yet somehow it impressed him.
“I’d never—”
“She’d kill me if she knew I’d said any of this, but she’s not your typical woman. She wears a hard shell and takes all the male chauvinistic bullshit in stride.” Ryan chuckled, then snorted. “More than once, she’s had to stop me from reacting to the shit. But underneath that strong facade is a soft, gentle, tender woman with an incredible life story to tell.”
“Care to enlighten me?”
“No can do.” Ryan shook his head and held up his hands in mock surrender. “That’s her story to tell, if she ever does. But I can tell you this. You haven’t even begun to scratch the surface.”
Marcus smiled and looked out toward the two women. Kate said something and Evelyn laughed, her face soft. She was extraordinary. But Ryan didn’t need to tell him that. Marcus had known Evelyn was incredible the moment he’d laid eyes on her, and he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind ever since.
Ryan slapped Marcus on the back and stood once more. “I say go for it, man.”
He winked, then walked toward the patio. He slid the heavy glass door open, stepped out into the cool Seattle air and joined the women. Marcus swallowed. His heart thumped as Evelyn laughed at something Ryan said. Her story, huh? There was so much about that woman, so much that he wanted to know, to discover. He couldn’t deny that something about Evelyn Davis drew him to her. He got up.
The real question now was, would she let him in?
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC. This man sitting next to her, staring out the window, drove Evelyn crazy. Marcus was a walking puzzle, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever figure him out. Evelyn wanted to engage him in conversation, just so she could hear him talk, but couldn’t find the right words. How could she ask someone she’d just met to open up, share his innermost secrets? And could she ask him to be honest, when she wouldn’t—couldn’t—return the favor? She silently cursed.
She knew one thing: he’d definitely gotten under her skin, made her squirm.
He turned onto her quiet street and pulled up outside her home. He parked the car, turned off the engine and twisted to face her. “Thanks for the invite tonight. That’s exactly what I needed.”
“It was all Kate’s idea.” Evelyn looked up at him and forgot to breathe. She had to clear her throat to get her words to form. “I swear she has this sixth sense, always knowing exactly what we need. She’s spot-on, every time. It’s actually pretty fascinating.”
“Well, I appreciate you sharing your family. That little Liam’s a total stud.”
He unbuckled his seat belt and pushed opened the car door.
Evelyn laughed in agreement, but it quickly died in her throat. He called them family. She glanced at him, gut twisting. Did he know about her family? Had Ryan said something to him tonight? No. He wouldn’t...would he?
Marcus came around the car to open her door. Swallowing the panic and fear that seized her, she stared up at him, trying to read his eyes. Nothing but warmth. No pity. No veiled awkwardness. He held out his hand. She hesitantly reached toward him. He pulled her out of the car, then placed his palm on the small of her back as he ushered her up the sidewalk. The heat of his touch made her heart race and her stomach flutter. Did he know? If he knew, he didn’t seem to care—maybe he’d already decided that he could handle her past and all that came with it. Her head spun.
“This isn’t a good idea.” She shrank away from him. Disappointment crushed her as his warm touch faded. Heat rushed to her face, and astonishment flooded her. Why should she care if he was touching her or not? But she did.
“What isn’t?” He stopped and looked at her. A tender smile twitched on his lips.
She motioned with her hands. “This. Us. Don’t get me wrong. You’re great. And, yes, okay, clearly you’re smoking hot. Any woman could see that.”
She climbed the steps.
“You think I’m sexy?” He followed close behind her.
Evelyn glanced over her shoulder and glared at him. “I’m serious here—”
“As am I.” Laughter twinkled in his eyes.
She focused her attention on her purse and fumbled for her keys. “There’s a professional line that shouldn’t be crossed. Even if there wasn’t, my life is...complicated.”
Marcus leaned against the porch railing. “I can handle complicated.”
She forgot about her keys. Tears pooled in her eyes. “You haven’t even begun to see complicated. My life brings complicated to a whole new level, one that you truly don’t want to encounter.”
“Shouldn’t that be my decision?”
Startled, she just stared at him, mouth slightly open. What? Had Kate and Ryan said something to this man? She snapped her mouth shut and shook her head.
“Trust me, Marcus. It’s better to not even start,” she whispered. Grief wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed.
He moved toward her.
She stepped back, flustered by his presence, until she hit the door.
“That is...” She cleared her throat. “If there wasn’t a professional line that shouldn’t be crossed.”
“
Yes, you’ve already pointed that out.”
Evelyn felt the warmth radiate from his body. She groped for the doorknob. “Well, because there—”
He leaned in and gently kissed her. The light, feathery touch of his lips on hers sent her heart stampeding and chills down her spine.
She froze for a moment, enjoying the sensation briefly before pulling away. “What the hell was that? Did you not just hear anything I said?”
“I did. It’s my decision.” He smiled at her. “And I’ve decided. Just getting a sample.”
Her irritation flamed out just as quickly as it had flared. She couldn’t help the curving of her lips. He’d decided, had he? “You’re impossible. You’ll be gone after this case is closed.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You fascinate me. You’re beautiful, strong, feisty and pretty amazing. So, complicated or not, I have every intention of getting to know you. All of you.” He gently took her hand, flipped it and pressed his lips to her palm.
She stared, wide-eyed and slightly breathless, then pulled her hand from his and fumbled once again for her keys. Finally, she unlocked the door and pushed it open. Stepping over the threshold, she stopped and studied him. “You aren’t one to give up, are you?”
“No.”
“Good. Because we have a killer to catch. See you tomorrow.” A brief smile spread across her features as she shut and locked the door.
She slumped against the door. A nervous laugh escaped lips that still tingled from the touch of his mouth on hers.
* * *
LAUGHING, MARCUS WALKED to his car and got in. He’d known from the moment he set eyes on Evelyn that she was different. He’d seen past the cool persona to the soft, gentle woman beneath. She cared for victims’ families as if they were her own. He’d never seen someone so quickly and effectively empathize with a grieving loved one. She felt what they did and drew from it. It was mesmerizing to watch.
Their job was tedious and dark. He’d seen too many agents burn out, or—worse—grow cold. Clearly gripped by this case, he’d witnessed a depth of emotion the past few days from Detective Davis. And from what he could tell, it wasn’t a bad thing, but a bridled strength. He’d often seen her pull from whatever it was that she felt in the moment to focus their investigation. Channeling emotions like that was a true skill. He knew from experience that it couldn’t be taught: you either had it, or you didn’t.
Evelyn Davis had it in spades.
The engine purred under him as he smiled into the darkness. Maybe something good would come out of this case after all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FOR THE FIRST time in a very long time, Evelyn woke up and thought about something other than her family. She watched the ceiling fan as it made its dutiful turns. Her mind was on one thing: Marcus. The white sheers covering her window danced and billowed as cool autumn air blew into her room. She stretched, rolled out of bed and reached for her phone. No waiting messages, and still plenty of time before she needed to be in. The rich, smooth aroma of her morning coffee fix drifted up from the kitchen, beckoning to her. Silently thanking Kate for talking her into upgrading her old coffeepot to an automatic one, she headed out of her bedroom and, without hesitation, down the stairs to answer its call.
Steaming coffee in hand, she stood in the middle of her office and studied the wall, trying to look at it with fresh eyes. Nothing. She pulled up the desk chair, sat and tucked one leg underneath her. With one foot, she slowly swiveled the chair to the right, then to the left. She sipped the molten brew and stared at the old newspaper clippings, faded crime scene photos and multicolored Post-it notes. Still nothing. Frustration ripped through her. Nothing had changed since the last time she sat here. She sighed. Would it ever?
Her phone chirped, reminding her of the time. She got up, set her mug on the desk and walked over to the photo of her sister. She kissed her fingers, then pressed them against the smiling face. “I’ll figure it out, Olivia. I promise.”
* * *
SHOWERED AND WITH her second cup of coffee in hand, Evelyn opened her front door and walked out into the brisk morning. Her boot crunched on something. She looked down, spied the yellow manila envelope and stepped back. Her blood froze. Her heart jumped so far up her throat she almost choked.
“Think fast, Evelyn” was scrawled across the front in red pen.
Without touching the package, she pressed herself into the cover of her door frame and scanned the street. She’d memorized her neighbors’ cars and their license plates when she moved in and had committed their names and faces to memory. Nothing seemed out of place. No one was even out this early in the morning. So where had this package come from?
Her training kicked in. The galloping within her chest slowed to a mere trot.
Rummaging through her bag, she grabbed the latex gloves she always carried with her, yanked them on and squatted down. Careful to keep her line of sight open and her body shielded as best as possible, Evelyn reached for the package. Her thumb and pointer finger clamped down on one corner as she stood and retreated into her home. The envelope was light. It felt almost empty. She kicked the door shut with one foot, turned the bolt with her free hand and held the limp envelope at arm’s length, as if it might bite her.
She grabbed her phone from her pocket and typed a quick text to Ryan and Marcus. I’ll be late. Be ready when I get there. The message was cryptic, and Ryan would be pissed at her for not explaining. If she tried, both men would tell her not to open it but to come straight in. Yeah, right. That clearly wasn’t happening. She shoved her phone into her pocket.
Ignoring her phone’s angry vibrations, Evelyn walked to the kitchen. She placed the envelope on the counter, stepped back and chewed on her lip. Hands on her hips, she debated her next move. It was addressed to her, but should she open it? Probably not. She leaned against the counter, crossed her arms and glared at the package. If either Ryan or Marcus had received something like this, had opened it at home and not in the safety of the bull pen, she’d be livid. But...that still left the question: Was she going to open it?
Most likely. Better to apologize than ask for permission, right?
Besides, something in the pit of her stomach told her she didn’t want to open this around anyone else.
She pulled a small paring knife out of a drawer and picked up the envelope. With a deep breath, she slid the point into the corner and tugged. She dumped the contents onto the counter. Christina and Cynthia Gardner’s lifeless eyes gaped up at her. More detailed, colored photos of all the crime scenes from the case stared at her. Horror raced through her and chills snaked up her spine. A picture of Ashley Middleton’s body made her stomach roll. And a Post-it was stuck on a photo of Sam Middleton.
Three scrawling words screamed up at her. “Tick tock, sweetheart.”
She shoved the photos in the package and threw it into her purse. Keys in hand, she hit one on her speed dial, then cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder. She checked out her window to ensure the delivery person wasn’t lurking around her house. No sign of anyone. She grabbed her things, locked her house and went out to her car.
Ryan answered on the second ring. “What the hell kind of text was that? And where the hell are you?”
As she got in her car, she ignored his questions and got straight to the point. “I received a little present this morning.”
“A present? From who? I’m not following.”
“From our serial killer. He—” She turned the key, then threw her car into Reverse.
“What the fuck, Evelyn?” Ryan yelled into the phone.
She held it away from her ear as she glanced over her shoulder and backed out of the driveway. “I’m on my way now. Maybe we’ll get lucky and we can finally pull a print. Be there in a few.”
* * *
HE LET THE curtain fall from his fingers and
set the camera down. He’d captured the moment perfectly. It would be a nice addition. He wished he could have delivered the package himself. Seen her eyes widen in panic. Watch her nostrils flare as dread washed over her perfectly porcelain face, knowing he’d bested her. That he’d won. But no. Now wasn’t the right time. He still had plans for her.
But soon. Very soon.
His fingers twitched in anticipation. The constant fury bubbled up, burning away the calm facade and blurring his vision, choking him. He blinked hard. Focused on his breathing. Channeled the anguish, the fury, to its rightful place.
Her.
He peered out the window again, watched her taillights disappear and laughed. He’d take from her. All of her. And at precisely the right moment...he’d make her scream.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EVELYN TOOK THE stairs two at a time. After she rounded the last flight, she halted. Both men flanked the door at the top stair, arms crossed, eyes stormy. What? Had the front desk called up when she arrived? She glanced between Ryan and Marcus. Oh, crap, she was toast. Without a word, she reached into her bag and handed the envelope to Marcus. She pushed past him, then marched by Ryan and plopped down in her desk chair. Slowly, she turned and looked at them.
“Evelyn, are you out of your mind? What the hell were you thinking?” Ryan asked, his voice cold as steel. “You should’ve called this in, left it where you found it, not brought it into your car. Are you insane?”
Dumbfounded, she sat there. Insane? Of course she wasn’t insane. What was Ryan’s problem? Good grief, this was ridiculous. She was an adult. She’d made a decision—end of discussion. Granted, it wasn’t the best decision she’d made in a while. But still. She wasn’t about to admit that now. Not in front of both men. And certainly not with them glaring at her.
“If I tried to pull this shit, you’d have my bal—”
“It was addressed to me,” she said, instantly wishing she’d kept her mouth shut and just endured the tongue-lashing. It was a ludicrous excuse, but she couldn’t think of anything else.
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