by Cynthia Eden
Not what she was trying to hire him to do.
“Help me,” Maisey entreated. Her voice was husky and her gaze was so deep and Odin didn’t want to look away. He couldn’t look away. “What do you have to lose? I am paying you, and you just might bag a killer. Double win.”
He searched her eyes. Considered the situation. “If I tell you no, what will you do?”
Her lips pressed together. Then, “Don’t tell me no.” Almost a plea.
“What will you do?” Odin pushed.
She swallowed. Straightened. “I will find another PI. I told you that already. I won’t give up. You might think I’m being overzealous…”
A bit. Yes. Nice word to describe her. Overzealous.
“The cops might think I’m imagining things, but I know what’s happening. I won’t stop. I will keep going until I can get someone who will help me.”
Odin frowned. “There are some seriously shady PIs out there.” Understatement. One she should have already realized. “You can’t just trust anyone you meet.”
“That’s why I came here. I came to the best. At least, that’s what the reporter on the news said about Trouble for Hire.” A pause. “What if I show you the perp? Will you at least come with me and check things out to see what you think of him before you turn me down?”
He thought it was a bad idea. A waste of time. Odin wasn’t going to look at some random guy and magically change his mind. This was a BS case.
“I’ll pay you to come with me. Please. Come to my house. See the evidence I have. It’s circumstantial—thus the need for the whole concrete, irrefutable evidence hunt—but it still makes for a compelling argument. Come and just consider it, will you? After that, if you still want to tell me no, then fine, do it.”
He intended to do just that. He intended to tell her that this was not going to work. He didn’t need to go to her house. He didn’t need to see her evidence or meet the neighbor. He didn’t need to do any of that stuff. There was no way this woman’s neighbor was a serial killer. It wasn’t like serial killers were thick on the ground. One of them had just been apprehended in the area, and the chances of another being on the loose in Pensacola, Florida, at the same time? Astronomically unlikely. Things like that didn’t happen.
He should give the pretty lady back her money. Tell her a polite—but firm—no and send Maisey on her way. That was absolutely what he should do. But Odin stared into those incredible eyes of hers and heard himself say, “What the hell? Nothing else is on my schedule for the night.”
Her face lit up.
Absolutely fucking gorgeous.
Odin knew that he had probably just crossed some serious PI line. He was sure there was a rule about not taking a case just because you thought the client was mega hot. But…
It was a slow evening.
And he’d never really enjoyed following all the rules. In fact, if his buddy War wasn’t currently sunning it up on a honeymoon in the Keys, War would probably tell him…some rules were made to be broken.
***
He was perfect.
Better than any dream she’d had. As Maisey Bright stood beside her car and waited for Odin Shaw to park his black Jeep, she tried not to jump with absolute joy.
He was big, he was muscled, and he was fierce. One look into those glittering blue eyes of his, and every drop of moisture had dried from her mouth. She’d stood in the doorway of that PI office, stared at a face that was all hard lines and planes, and she’d barely been able to catch her breath.
Odin looked tough. The sexy kind of tough that said he could take care of business without breaking a sweat. He could kick ass, solve crimes, and get the bad guys tossed in a jail cell in no time. She bet fear wasn’t part of his vocabulary. She bet that he knew a dozen ways to disable an attacker. She bet that he—
“Are we just going to stand here all night?”
He was right in front of her and she’d been daydreaming again. It was just hard not to fantasize when someone like Odin appeared. She wondered how long he’d been standing there on the sidewalk. For the sake of her pride, she really hoped it hadn’t been longer than a minute…or three.
“Our suspect lives next door.” She turned and pointed to the right—
He grabbed her hand. His hold was incredibly gentle, but she could feel the calluses on his fingers. Probably from his workout regimen. “Don’t point,” he rasped as he pulled her a little closer to him. “Not like we want to give the guy a head’s up that we’re talking about him. You never know if he’s watching.”
Wait, did Odin believe her? It sounded as if he might. Joy had her nearly shaking. Finally.
She tilted her head back and peered up at him. Next to Odin, she felt small. Delicate. The man had muscles and strength pouring from him.
Try not to drool.
“Is it just the two of you on this street?” His gaze swept the area even as he kept a hold on her hand. “I thought you said you wanted to keep the neighborhood safe.”
“Yes, well, it will be a neighborhood. But for now, we’re the only two with completed houses.” Thick woods surrounded their street. Beyond the woods, a swamp waited. She’d heard the croaks from the gators out there plenty of times.
The woods and the swamp—they were perfect for anyone who wanted to hide a body.
Like my neighbor…
Maisey suspected Clay had bought his house just for the location. It was a serial killer’s dream.
“Come inside,” she told Odin quickly. “I have a murder board set up in the guest room.”
“A murder board?”
She pulled her hand from his grip and tried to ignore the way her fingers were doing a weird little tingle. “Yes, you know, a board where I put up all of my evidence so I can keep track of all the players and events.” She hurried toward her front door. “Detectives use them quite frequently in homicide investigations.”
“Do they now.”
It didn’t exactly sound like a question. She slanted him a suspicious glance over her shoulder before hurriedly unlocking her door. The alarm began to beep, so Maisey hustled forward and shut it off.
Odin closed the door behind them. “You’ve made several mistakes so far.”
She paused on her way to the hall.
“Mistake one.” His voice was grim. “Don’t invite a strange man into your home and then let him watch you type in your alarm code. If I come back when you aren’t here, I’ll know the code. I’ll have access to you.”
Her heart lurched in her chest. But she shook her head. “You aren’t a strange man. You’re—we’re working together.” They were partners. A crime-solving team. “The cops and the press both endorsed your agency. I did research on Warren—War—before I stepped foot in that office. He’s a decorated war hero.” Hardly some dangerous criminal.
“I’m not War. You don’t know me.”
Her shoulders stiffened. His voice was deep and dark. It was a voice that seemed to rumble right through her. Maisey forced herself to turn and glance back at him. “Should I be afraid of you?”
“Yes.” An immediate reply.
Her breath left her in a startled rush. “That wasn’t the answer I expected! I hired you!” Why was he now trying to scare her? Shouldn’t he be reassuring her that she’d made a great investment?
“I warned you…” He closed in with slow, deliberate steps. “You can’t trust every PI you meet. You can’t trust anyone you meet. If I’ve learned anything from my time with War, it’s that people are never who you think they are. Evil hides in plain sight.”
He was trying to scare her. Looking all big and intimidating and keeping his expression extra fierce. But the man didn’t understand who he was dealing with. “I know evil hides everywhere. How do you think I realized what my neighbor was? I’ve learned to look beneath the surface.” She’d had to look beneath the surface. Growing up as she had, there hadn’t exactly been a lot of options for her.
If you wanted to find the truth, you had to dig
it up for yourself. Often…literally.
“Mistake two…”
Her spine snapped even straighter. As if that small movement would miraculously give her more height so Odin didn’t loom over her with his immense form.
“No weapon.” His lips thinned. “You’re alone with me, and you’re completely defenseless.”
She was most certainly not defenseless. “There’s a lamp two feet away. I could always grab it and slam it into your head.” If he tried anything funny with her, she’d jump up and ram that baby at him.
His gaze darted to the lamp, then back to her. “Try it,” Odin dared. “Let’s see what happens.”
Was he serious? “You want me to slam a lamp into your head?”
“I want you to realize that what you’re doing isn’t a game! You can’t just go up to some strange man and invite him in your place—”
“Oh, is that what this is about?” Relief rushed through her. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t invite strange men home. Not my style. So you don’t have to worry about me heading out to the bar scene and picking up a random guy.” She gave him a reassuring pat on the chest. “Thanks for worrying about me, though. It’s sweet.” Maisey turned away. “Now let me show you the murder—”
“I am not sweet.”
He sounded offended. Men. “Fine. You’re salty. Better?” Her steps quickened as she passed her bedroom and turned for the door on the right. She swung it open and—
Stopped. Stared in shock.
The board was…empty.
She felt Odin move in behind her. Actually felt the air shift as he drew closer. “Huh,” he said. “That your evidence? Because it’s a little…not there.”
Maisey couldn’t move. “There were pictures. Maps. Printed copies of old newspapers and victim statements.” This couldn’t be happening. “He took it all.” Anger poured through her as Maisey took three frantic steps forward.
Odin’s hand closed around her shoulder. “You’re saying someone broke in?”
“I’m saying all my evidence is gone!” Wait—maybe not all. She whirled back toward him. Shot past him and ran for her bedroom. Her laptop was in there. She had backup files on the laptop. She could show that info to Odin.
“If someone broke into your house, we should call the cops.”
The cops. They should definitely talk about the cops and contacting them. But first—her laptop.
She raced into her bedroom. Odin’s steps followed slowly behind her. Maisey headed straight for her favorite reading chair. She’d left the laptop there and it was—
Gone.
Her breath shuddered in and out. “He took it all.”
“Um…Maisey?”
She jerked her gaze off the chair. Forced herself to turn toward him. “My laptop is gone. The evidence on my murder board is gone. He took everything.”
Odin didn’t speak. Just stared at her with inscrutable blue eyes, and she realized—
Maisey stumbled back a step. “You don’t believe me?”
“Don’t believe that your next door neighbor is a killer? Or don’t believe that he broke in here—disabled your alarm, stole your murder board info and your laptop before resetting your alarm and slipping out? You’re gonna need to be specific about what you think I don’t believe.”
“All of the above,” she whispered. She had to blink because the room had just gone blurry. Blurry because she had tears of frustration and fear filling her eyes. No one believed her. Not even Odin. “I had all the material here,” she told him. Her voice trembled. So did her hands. Maisey balled them into fists. “Everything was here.” She knew what had happened. “He must have realized I was on to him. He slipped inside and took it all.” Now, without the promised information, she looked even crazier. Dammit.
“Do you have security cameras?” Odin asked her, voice expressionless.
“No.”
“Any sort of tracking device on your laptop?”
She shook her head. Swiped away a tear. “I am not lying. All of this is real.”
“If you’ve had a home invasion, we should call the cops.”
“They aren’t going to believe me.” Frustration burned through her. “You’re my PI, and you don’t even believe me!”
He edged closer to her. Studied her with those bright blue eyes of his. His hand rose, and the back of his knuckles carefully skimmed her cheek.
He’s wiping away my tears.
That just made everything worse. Made her feel even more miserable because on top of everything else, hot and sexy Odin pitied her. “Don’t,” she bit out.
He stiffened.
“Maybe you should just go,” Maisey mumbled. Because there was no way she could prove her story at this point. Everything was gone. She’d have to start over at square one. This time, I’ll have a backup for my backup. Keeping the info on her computer hadn’t been good enough.
“You need to call the cops,” Odin insisted.
He didn’t get it. “They won’t believe me.”
“Doesn’t matter if they do or not. They’ll dust for fingerprints. Maybe find some evidence. You have to report your laptop as missing.”
“No.” A rough exhalation of air. “I had a break-in here a month ago, and they didn’t find any evidence. They don’t routinely look for prints, just so you know.” That was a big misconception, one she’d had, too. “The cop who came told me this wasn’t CSI.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Prints can’t be pulled from all surfaces. And the cop told me they usually only dust if they have someone that they can compare the prints to.” Hello, like my neighbor. But the cop hadn’t listened to that explanation from her.
“Back up. You’ve had two break-ins recently?”
She nodded. This one made two.
Odin’s jaw hardened. “We’re calling the cops. They’re checking the scene.”
“But—”
“I’m your PI, remember? Isn’t that what you just said?”
She had said that, yes. Maisey sniffed.
“Then do what I tell you. Call the cops. First order of business is to get the theft on record. Then we go from there.”
Her breath caught. “Wait. Do you believe me?” Hope was struggling to flare to life again.
His gaze drifted over her face. “I’m your PI,” he said slowly, voice growling. “And we’re going to figure this shit out.”
That was not a resounding, oh, hell, yes, I believe you. But she’d still take it. Gladly take it. Without another thought, Maisey threw her body against Odin. Her arms wrapped around him—tried to, anyway. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He was tense and felt rather like a muscled wall against her.
But…
His hand awkwardly patted her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
He’d given her hope. Did Odin get how important that was? She had her own PI now. And together, they were going to stop the serial killer next door.
Chapter Two
The swirl of blue lights lit up the exterior of Maisey’s house. The two uniformed cops had finished their search, and just as Maisey had predicted, they hadn’t turned up much. They’d been helpful enough. Even promised to patrol more in the area.
One guy had even said he’d try to get a crime scene tech out the next day…
But neither fellow had seemed to think the crime would be solved. They’d asked for the serial number of her laptop. Told her that they’d check the local pawn shops. Then they’d gotten a call to another scene.
That call had led to the currently flashing lights as they prepared to rush away.
A twig snapped behind Odin. He didn’t move.
“Is everything all right?” A male voice called as Maisey’s neighbor closed in. “I saw the police lights, and I was afraid something had happened to Maisey!”
Slowly, Odin turned his head to look at the man. Tall, leanly muscled. Dressed in khaki pants and a white, dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Clean-cut. Soundin
g appropriately concerned. Looking it, too, as the blue lights darted over his face.
“She’s fine,” Odin assured him. “Just had a break-in.”
“A break-in?” The man took a lurching step toward Maisey’s house. “I should go check on her!”
Odin moved into his path. “Yeah…no.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
The guy jerked to a halt. “Who are you?”
I’m her PI. “Maisey’s special friend.”
“What?”
“I’ll be helping her out tonight.” A pause. “Don’t think I caught your name.” His gaze scanned over the neighbor. A thorough scan from the guy’s head to his slightly dirty dress shoes.
The neighbor craned to peer around Odin. “Didn’t catch yours, either.”
“Odin.” A pause. “Did you catch it?” He pushed a hint of steel into his voice. A hint of…stop looking at her and deal with me, asshole.
The man’s head turned back to him. “I did.” Flat. “And I’m Clay. Clay Prescott.”
“Were you home tonight, Clay?”
“Why?” Suspicious. Guarded.
Odin shrugged. “Because I thought you might have seen the jerk who broke into Maisey’s home.”
Clay glanced back over his shoulder, toward his place. “I wasn’t home.”
“Huh. Too bad. If you’d been here, you might have been able to spot the intruder.”
Clay’s attention shifted back to him. “I didn’t see anything. I just got back a few minutes ago. I didn’t—Maisey!”
Now he did lunge around Odin and rush toward Maisey. Clay sure seemed eager to get close to her. As he approached, Odin saw Maisey stiffen.
Clay lifted his hands, as if he’d touch her—hell, no, don’t you dare—but he froze awkwardly before actually making contact. “Uh, are you ok?”
Maisey’s gaze flew toward Odin. Then back to Clay. “Fine.”
She sounded anything but fine.
“Your friend…” Clay jerked his thumb toward Odin. “He said you had a break-in.”
“Yes.” Soft.
Odin sidled away from them, but he kept his eyes on Maisey. It only took him a moment to push through the bushes, to get next to the car parked in Clay’s drive, and to touch the hood…