“That feels good,” she purred.
“You like?” he asked.
She bit her bottom lip and nodded.
He removed her other boot. He massaged the second foot, his eyes never leaving hers. He tugged on her pants and she lifted her hips. He slid off her slacks and dropped them in a heap. Sitting up, she pulled off her sweater, adding it to the pile. She shivered, despite the fire that blazed in the hearth.
“You can’t be cold.”
“Lace and satin don’t keep in much heat,” she said, referring to her bra and panties.
“Let’s see what we can do about warming you up,” said Wyatt. He backed off the window seat and kneeled on the floor. “Open your knees for me.”
She did as he ordered. He moved to her, lifting her thighs over his shoulders. He pulled aside the stride of her underwear and placed his mouth on her sex. Everly bucked against him. The pleasure was so intense that she wanted to run, escape to a place where she was in control.
Wyatt pleasured Everly with his mouth and his hands. Caressing. Tasting. Exploring. Worshipping. The ecstasy was too much. She climaxed for a second time, crying out his name.
“Still not done,” said Wyatt.
He stripped out of his shirt and jeans. He was hard, as she knew he would be. But it was more than that—he was truly a work of art. His pecs were chiseled, his stomach was flat. A dark sprinkling of hair covered his chest and narrowed to a strip that dove to his groin. He stood and turned, giving her a full view of his tight rear and long legs.
While she was admiring Wyatt Thornton in all his male power, he’d taken a moment to retrieve a condom from his wallet. Everly was happy that he was prepared to be safe for both of them.
“Can I help with that?” she asked.
He handed her the foil packet. “Sure,” he said.
Everly removed the condom and unrolled it down his length.
He moved to her, his lips on hers. She held tight to his shoulders as he spread her open, and then he was inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, taking him in deeper, needing him more.
She ran her hands through his hair. Down his back. She cupped his buttocks as they tightened and flexed with each thrust. She felt his strong arms and broad shoulders. His skin was hot and dampened with sweat. He was all muscle and sinew. Solid. Powerful. Unbreakable. His strokes increased. Faster. Harder. Wyatt threw back his head and gave a guttural howl.
He kissed Everly deeply, pressing his chest into hers. Their hearts shared a rhythm. The sky had turned from violet to indigo and the Rocky Mountains were now lost in the darkness.
Leaving a kiss on her shoulder, Wyatt rolled off Everly and strode to the half bath, closing the door behind him.
Taking advantage of the moment, Everly donned her panties and sweater. When Wyatt returned, she was sitting on the sofa, with a table lamp aglow.
“Hey, there,” he said as he approached. He was still gloriously naked.
“Hey there, yourself,” she said back.
“About what just happened...” He scratched the back of his head, lengthening the muscles of his torso and arms. “We should talk.”
Everly wasn’t in the mood to parse through feelings, not when her toes still tingled with pleasure. “We had mind-blowing sex,” she said.
Wyatt pulled on his pants. “Mind-blowing, eh?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Mind-blowing.”
He chuckled and sat down beside her. She tried not to gawk at his bare chest, to recall the feel of his hard muscles. It was a wasted effort. Even though Everly didn’t want to chat about their escapades—or any ensuing feelings—the silence left her fidgety.
“It’s so quiet out here,” she said, blurting out the first lame thing that came to mind.
He harrumphed and slipped a T-shirt over his head.
Everly should take the clue and keep her mouth shut but was compelled to fill the silence with something—anything. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
Wyatt shrugged. “At first, sure. Las Vegas is a noisy place, and everyone gets used to their environment. It’s the same with the quiet and slower pace.”
“Do you ever miss it?” she asked. “Having a job, working, being social.”
“Who says I’m not social?”
“I kind of figured it out,” she teased. “But you’re still hiding. Will you ever come out?”
Wyatt leaned back on the sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do I miss the real world?” he asked. “Honestly, sometimes.”
“Let’s say that Larry is the killer and you catch him,” said Everly. “What would you do? Would you stay here, or would you go back to work for the FBI?”
“You’re assuming a lot. First, that Larry’s the killer and second, that the Bureau wants me back.”
Everly tucked her legs beneath her. “Humor me.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Assuming that everything you said was true. Larry’s the killer. I build a case. The FBI wants me. I might go back.”
A little thrill of excitement ran up Everly’s spine. Would Wyatt want to go to Chicago? They would make a fabulous couple... But she quickly pushed the notion from her mind. Really, it was ridiculous to even consider and yet, she could hardly think of anything else.
Before Everly could say anything, Wyatt’s cell phone buzzed from where he’d left it on the desk. Everly’s heart stilled, and she was taken back to the moment when she got the call—the one from Sheriff Haak, telling her that Axl was dead.
Her pulse began again as Wyatt crossed the room. He lifted the phone from the desk and glanced at the screen. “It’s Davis, my contact with the LVPD,” he announced before answering the call. “Hello?” he said, and then after a beat, added, “Let me put you on speaker so I can write all this down.”
Everly rose to her feet as Wyatt sat at the desk and pulled a pad and paper from a drawer. “Go ahead,” he said.
Davis cleared his throat. “I’ve got an employment history for Lawrence Walker.” Davis then listed the names of three different casinos and a corresponding set of dates. Larry hadn’t held any one job for longer than a few months. “I only have his name on a single lease. He lived in the same apartment for nineteen months. Grand Canyon Gardens. Small. Inexpensive. Not too far from the Strip.”
As far as Everly could tell, they were getting information but nothing useful.
“Any roommates?” Wyatt asked.
“The lease doesn’t say, but he had a two-bedroom unit.”
Wyatt scribbled some notes, then said, “Thanks for the information. Anything else?”
“I was thinking about taking a ride by the Grand Canyon Gardens on my way home, see if any neighbors remember anything helpful,” said Davis.
“Let me know what you find out, will you?”
“If it finally helps catch that monster, I’m willing to do anything.” Then Davis ended the call.
“What do we do now?” Everly asked, suddenly aware of the fact that she was only in her top and panties.
“I’m going to cross-reference the victims in Las Vegas to Larry’s employment history and see if anyone was a guest at a hotel where he worked.”
Everly scooped up her discarded clothing from the floor. “I’ll get dressed and be right back to help you,” she said.
Wyatt had already powered up his computer and had the case’s flash drive in hand. He turned in his seat and pinned her with his dark eyes. “If Larry’s the killer, we’ll prove it.”
Everly nodded and slipped into the half bath. She dressed and turned on the tap. Holding her hands under the running water, she let it sluice through her fingers. She needed to find Axl’s killer, but what if it wasn’t Larry? Or worse, what if it was but they couldn’t prove it?
It was obvious that Wyatt had his doubts about Larry Walker’s guilt. Now that same worry gnawed at her middle.
What if Wyatt was right and Larry wasn’t involved at all? Still, Everly wouldn’t accomplish anything by hiding in the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and turned off the tap. Somewhat refreshed, Everly dried her face and opened the door.
Wyatt sat in front of the computer. After running a hand through his hair, he cursed.
“What is it?” Everly asked.
“None of the victims stayed at a hotel where Larry worked.” He pressed the heels of hands into his eyes. With a mirthless laugh, he said. “It was really stupid to think that we’d bumble around and find a killer who’s eluded law enforcement for years.”
“There has to be more,” said Everly. Her pulse raced and the metallic taste of fear and desperation filled her mouth. “I went to Reno a few years back for work. It’s not Vegas, but the setup is similar. You stay at one hotel, but you might gamble at another, eat at the next and see a show at a fourth.”
Wyatt waved his hand at the screen. “See for yourself. I have credit-card receipts for all activities. None of them are at the hotels where Larry worked.”
“He might have gone to a different casino,” Everly offered. “And if he paid with cash, there wouldn’t be a credit-card record.”
“He might have, but we need proof—not guesses.”
Everly’s cheek stung as if she’d been slapped. Biting her bottom lip, she counted to ten. It wouldn’t do to say exactly what she was thinking. Instead, she pulled up a chair and sat next to Wyatt. “Let’s start from the beginning. What do we know about the first victim?”
Wyatt moved the mouse and opened up a file. It was all there—the victim’s name, age, occupation. Hometown. Reason for his visit. Everly read the information again and again. Nothing. She pointed to the last line—reason for visit. “It says that the victim was in Las Vegas for a family wedding.”
“So? Lots of people get married in Las Vegas.”
“That’s true, but was it a destination wedding, where everyone traveled to the ceremony? Or did the wedding take place in Las Vegas because that’s where the bride and groom lived?”
Wyatt sat back in the chair and cupped his chin in his hand. “I think it was a cousin who got married. She was a graduate student at UNLV.”
“Do you have her address?”
Wyatt jiggled the mouse. “I do.”
He opened another document. Everly leaned forward, every muscle tense.
They both silently scanned the page. Wyatt pointed to a line in the text. “She lived in graduate-student housing,” he said. “But it was a good thought.”
Everly tried to tell herself that there was much more information to sift through. Yet, she’d been so sure. “What about the fiancé?” she asked.
“I get that you’re disappointed,” said Wyatt. “There are some connections, but we need something a little more substantial than Larry living in both places at the time of the killings.”
Everly wasn’t ready to give up. “It seems like a lot to me,” she said.
“It’s mostly circumstantial,” he said.
“So that’s it? You’re quitting?”
“You have to understand, sometimes you follow a set of clues and they lead nowhere.”
“What do we do now?”
Wyatt shook his head. “There is nothing more to do.”
Rising to her feet, Everly paced around the room. “You’re afraid of making another mistake.” She paused. “I saw the OPR’s report.”
The minute she spoke, Everly knew she’d made a mistake.
Wyatt’s eyes flashed with rage and for the first time, she understood that he might be as dangerous as the killers he hunted. When he spoke, his words were measured but his voice was filled with steel. “You had no right to go pawing through my things...”
“Paw through your things?” she asked, interrupting. “The report was in the file you handed to me.” Working her jaw back and forth, Everly continued, “You arrested a man, but knew he was innocent. Why would you hide the alibi?”
“That’s not what happened,” he said.
“Oh really? Illuminate me with the truth.”
“Nah,” he said with the shake of his head. “It’s not worth it.”
Everly wanted to leave—to get away from him. But where would she go? Glancing over her shoulder, she looked at Wyatt. He was typing on the computer, oblivious to her, or her anger.
She started to walk away.
“Wait,” he said. “You need to see this.”
“What is it?”
Wyatt didn’t bother looking her way. “I found a concrete link that connects Larry Walker to the first victim.”
Everly went numb. “What is it?”
“Neither the bride nor the groom lived at Canyon Gardens Apartments,” said Wyatt. “But a member of the wedding party did.”
“Is that enough to arrest Walker?” Everly asked, her heart racing.
He shook his head. “Arresting him is up to the sheriff,” said Wyatt. “But it’s enough to bring Larry in for a serious conversation.”
Chapter 10
Wyatt itched with the need to act, yet he knew that a certain amount of preparation was necessary if they were going to track Larry Walker down and speak to him. There was more that he knew—and hadn’t been willing to say before. Now, Wyatt knew what Larry had been hiding. Yet, before speaking to the cook, he wanted to make two calls. The first was to Sheriff Haak.
He finally reached the sheriff at home. When Haak answered on the fifth ring, Wyatt activated the phone’s speaker feature. Haak’s voice was thick with sleep. “This better be good,” he said.
Wyatt glanced at the clock on his computer screen—11:00 p.m. already? Not that the time mattered. “This is Wyatt Thornton. You needed a connection between Larry Walker and the victims from Las Vegas,” said Wyatt. “And I have one.”
The sheriff took in a quick breath. “I’m awake.”
“The first victim was in Las Vegas for a cousin’s wedding. The bride—his cousin—was a student at UNLV and she lived on campus.”
“You woke me up for that?”
Wyatt bit back a curse and continued. “It’s not the cousin, but one of the people in the wedding party. He and Larry Walker lived in the same apartment complex.”
The line went silent. Everly stood near Wyatt. He did his best to not look in her direction. After the words exchanged about the OPR’s report...well, Wyatt wasn’t sure what he thought about her now.
If he was honest with himself, he was more concerned about what she thought of him.
“You sure about that?” Haak asked.
The question drew Wyatt from his reverie. “Positive,” he said. “Do you know where Larry is now?”
“Give me a minute,” the sheriff said. “I’ll call the deputy I assigned to watch Larry from my cell phone.”
The sound of voices was unmistakable in the background. Too bad Wyatt couldn’t make out a word of what was being said.
“You there?” Sheriff Haak asked.
As if Wyatt would hang up. “I’m here.”
“My deputy says that Larry’s still at the Pleasant Pines Inn.”
“Is the pub crowded tonight?” Wyatt needed all the information he could get in order for a successful apprehension.
“Closed,” said the sheriff.
“Closed? It’s only eleven o’clock. That’s kind of early, isn’t it?” Everly asked.
The sheriff said, “Sometimes they shut down if there isn’t much of a crowd.”
“But Larry’s still there,” said Wyatt. He hated that their prime suspect hadn’t been placed into custody. Yet, it was the sheriff’s call who got arrested and when. Then again, maybe the Sheriff Haak was smarter than Wyatt. Hadn’t it been a mishandled arrest that cost Wyatt his career?
“He hasn’t been seen leaving the building and his truck is in th
e lot,” said the sheriff. “The deputy thinks that he’s having an after-work drink by himself.”
The late-night cocktail followed what they knew of Larry’s behavior. Yet, it wasn’t the absolute answer Wyatt wanted. Still, it was the best they were going to get. “We’re on our way, Sheriff.”
“I figured as much,” said Haak. “I’ll meet you there.”
Wyatt ended the call and entered another number.
“This is Marcus Jones.”
“Marcus,” said Wyatt. “We have a connection between Larry and one of the victims. Larry’s still at the pub.” He hesitated. “Feel like a beer?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
As promised by Sheriff Haak, Larry’s truck was in the employee parking lot of the Pleasant Pines Inn. A single light was attached to the back wall and illuminated the rear door.
The plan was straight forward. Marcus Jones and Sheriff Haak would go in to the hotel through the lobby. The sheriff had jurisdiction, since the supposed crimes had occurred in his county. He’d be the one to arrest Walker. Marcus Jones was with the sheriff for added reinforcement, if needed.
Wyatt was to come in from the back and go directly to the pub. The deputy, Travis Cooper, was to remain in the parking lot, covering the rear egress and Larry’s truck—the most likely means of escape.
Wyatt was ready. It was moments like this where Wyatt felt as he truly understood what it was to be alive—to have a purpose.
With his SIG Saur tucked into his waistband at the small of his back he turned to Everly. “I want you to stay in my truck. If anything happens, leave.”
“And go where?” she asked, her tone as cold and hard as the metal of the firearm tucked into the small of his back.
“Go to the RMJ offices,” he said. Belatedly, he realized that he should have left Everly there in the first place. It was too late now to correct his mistake and he continued, “That’ll be the safest place for you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not worried about my own safety? I only care about catching my brother’s murderer.”
Wyatt was desperate to catch the killer, as well. It’s just that he cared far more about keeping Everly from harm’s way than anything else. The thought struck him like a fist to the chin. Sure, they’d become lovers, but Wyatt didn’t love Everly, right?
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