Chapter 17

Laney’s knees trembled as she pulled open the door to reveal a man in a dark blue suit.

Smitty tilted his head, Eugene sprawled in his arms. “FBI guy.”

“Agent Patterson,” the man said, holding out a large hand. He had to be about thirty with numerous laugh lines that spread out from hazel eyes. He stood to about six feet tall with lean muscles.

She shook his hand. “Laney Jacobs.”

Matt stepped to her side and slipped an arm around her shoulders. He extended his free hand. “Matt Dean.”

They shook.

“Nice to meet you,” Patterson said. “May I have a few moments of your time?”

“Of course.” Matt pulled Laney to the side. “Come on in. We were moving my things over.” He tugged her to sit on the sofa.

Her mind spun, and she tried to keep from blanching.

Patterson sat on the matching floral chair and drew out a notebook.

Smitty shuffled his feet. “The cat and I are going back to work.” The door shut behind them with a decisive click.

Patterson clicked a Cross pen into action. “You’re moving in, hmmm?”

“Yes.” Matt drew her closer, his tone the right amount of truth and anticipation. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Agent?”

Patterson glanced around the apartment. “I don’t know, but I’m not opposed to the idea.” He surveyed Laney. “What about you, Miss Jacobs?”

The solid arm around her shoulders provided both security and threat. She had no doubt Matt would take out the FBI agent. Even if Patterson was trained, Matt had learned from birth to fight. Matt’s casual mention of love spiraled through her, leaving an odd hurt.

She’d never admit it out loud, but being loved? Yeah, she wanted that. Even more so, being loved by a man like Matt would be all-encompassing. She was just realizing that she had love to give, and she could do that. Could actually give part of herself to somebody else.

Now she did have other feelings for him, and right now, they were edging toward homicidal, so she dug her nails into his thigh and plastered on her sweetest expression. “Please call me Laney. I fell for Matt the first second I saw him.” There was enough of a ring of truth in the statement the hurt spread.

“See why I love her?” Matt smiled and adjusted their position so he could clasp her shoulder… beneath her hair. His grip tightened until she retracted her nails.

Patterson nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Matt released her and played with her hair with a warning tug. “I’m confused as to why the FBI wants to speak with us.”

“The notes Laney has received are part of a case I’ve been working on for more than five months.” Patterson scribbled something in his notebook. “We’ve been tracking a serial killer in the Pacific Northwest who leaves romantic notes for his victims, rapes them, and kills them.”

Her body went cold. Head to toe, ice flushed through her. “Serial killer?”

Matt stiffened. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Patterson tapped his pen on the notebook. “My partner is with the sheriff right now analyzing the notes, and we have an expert profiler flying in hopefully tomorrow.”

“How many women has he killed?” Laney asked, her breath catching.

“Five, counting Claire Alps,” Patterson said soberly.

“Commonality between victims?” Matt asked, suddenly all business.

Patterson shook his head. “Young, professional, beautiful. And—their domiciles. Towns in the west like Charmed, Faith, Serenity, Peaceful Valley…”

Seriously? Her choice of a sweet-sounding town had put her on a killer’s radar? Laney instinctively snuggled closer into Matt’s side. He might not like her, but he wouldn’t let anybody beat her to death. God. She’d been afraid of the commander and his followers for so long, it was surprising she could feel this new wave of fear.

“You’re safe, Laney,” Matt said, running a reassuring hand down her arm. “I promise.”

“Actually, you’re in danger.” Patterson clicked the notebook closed. “I’d like to put you in a safe house while we hunt this guy.”

Matt lifted his chin but remained silent while tangling his fingers with hers. The message was clear, however. He’d let her be the one to refuse protection, and she didn’t have a choice.

She needed to take control of the situation. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m staying right here. Matt is a former marine, and I feel safer with him. This killer isn’t going to make me abandon my life like this—it’s time he was caught.” She sounded so much braver than she felt.

Plus, right now, the biggest threat in her life was currently holding her hand.

Patterson shook his head. “I’m sure you’re trained, Mr. Dean, but we can keep her safe.”

“I appreciate your offer,” Matt said calmly. “But she’s staying here with me.”

Yeah, right. They were skipping town the second Matt got his hands on the picture.

“Okay,” Patterson said, his tone implying the refusal was anything but okay. “I understand you’ve been questioned by the sheriff, Laney, but I’d like to nail down the timeline a little bit. When did you receive the first note?”

She recalled the events methodically for the agent, answering each question, trying to remember anybody who’d seemed threatening. There wasn’t a soul. Matt remained silent during the interview, his solid presence oddly comforting.

Finally, Patterson wound down and turned toward Matt. “You arrived in town just after the notes started?”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t know when the notes started. I arrived in town last week.”

“Uh-huh.” Patterson’s eyebrows drew together. “Do you have a criminal record, Mr. Dean?”

“Nope.”

“How long have you been out of the service?” Patterson asked.

“About two years.” Matt tugged Laney’s hair again.

“I see.” Patterson’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What have you been doing for the last two years?”

“Traveling. Trying to find myself,” Matt said easily. “As luck would have it, I found Laney. All I ever wanted.”

Laney’s smile was beginning to hurt her jaw. All he ever wanted? Yeah, right. He was full of crap. The words sent an initial happiness through her, but they were a lie. Hurt and anger comingled through her until her head ached. “What a sweet thing to say.” She shifted her weight and dug her elbow into his ribs. Hard.

Not by one inch did he react to the dig. “No, you’re sweet.”

Patterson’s phone buzzed, and he read the face. “The local sheriff said you refuse to provide either DNA or fingerprints to rule you out for Claire Alps’s murder.”

“Yes.” Matt drew Laney close enough she couldn’t jab him with her elbow again. “I’m not exactly trustful of the small-town sheriff or his labs.”

“How about the FBI’s lab?” Patterson asked smoothly.

“Sorry.” Matt didn’t sound sorry. “I’ve had enough experience with big government to be cautious, and since I didn’t harm Claire in any way, you don’t need my prints or DNA.” He turned toward Laney. “Right, sweetheart?” A promise of retribution for the jab glinted in his eyes.

“I totally agree,” she said.

Patterson cleared his throat. “Miss Jacobs? Please don’t take this the wrong way—” He paused as Matt turned his attention back to the him. He swallowed. “But, well, you don’t know Mr. Dean. It is quite the coincidence this murder occurred when he’d arrived in town… and the series of murders are in different towns. Probably committed by somebody ‘traveling and trying to find himself.’ ”

A chill swept through her. Was it possible? There had been time for Matt to have killed poor Greg… and even Claire. “Matt is innocent, Agent.” If nothing else, she had to keep the FBI guy safe. If he suspected Matt, he wouldn’t make it out of the apartment.

Patterson’s lips drew into a fine line. “All right. I’m sure you understand to be careful, and please contact me if you receive another note or if something else concerning the case occurs to you.” He stood and headed for the door. “We aren’t finished, Mr. Dean.”

He let himself out.

Silence encompassed the apartment for a moment, and she refused to look at Matt.

He drew his cell phone from his pocket and pressed speed dial. “Shane? My cover needs to be deep enough to withstand FBI scrutiny. So does Laney’s. Shore them both up—and get the files on a possible serial killer in the northwest murdering women who live in quaint-sounding towns. I’ll give you a call later to explain.” He disconnected the call. “So, lover. What now?”

She ignored the sarcasm. “I can’t believe any of this.”

Matt rubbed his chin and shoved to his feet. “Me, either.”

She frowned. “You think Patterson was lying?”

“Maybe, maybe not. But by tomorrow morning, I’ll know everything the FBI does about the case.” He took the gun from his back and checked the clip. “Why are there so many serial killers in the northwest?”

“It’s the rainy season,” Laney muttered before she could stop herself. “Not enough sun.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Vitamin D deficiency, huh?”

“Maybe.” She hated that he actually got her odd sense of humor.

“You chose Charmed because of the name. I guess it’s possible a serial killer is drawn to the same weird name.”

Her mind struggled to realign the facts. “I know it’s possible, but how could I have the commander, you, and now a killer hunting me?”

“Born under a bad sign?”

She coughed out a laugh. Yeah, she understood his sense of humor, too. “Were you serious about believing in love at first sight?” She hadn’t meant to ask the revealing question.

He shoved the clip back into place. “Hell if I know. Truth be told, I’d have figured we weren’t genetically disposed to have love, or feel love, or whatever you do with feelings.”

“But?”

“One of my brothers found love—the real kind. He even got married.” Matt put the gun back into place. “So, I guess it’s possible.” Concern filtered through his eyes for a moment.

“Why is that bad?” she asked.

“Because there’s a good chance we’re all dead in less than two months, and who will protect her? She’ll be all alone, and if anybody is left from the organization, they’ll hunt her. She knows too much.” Matt scrubbed both hands down his face. “So we either need to survive this, or I need to destroy the organization to the point it’ll never recover.”

“What’s her name?”

He shook his head, and Laney tried not to let the rejection sting. Trust didn’t exist between them. What would it be like to have Matt’s trust and loyalty like the mysterious sister-in-law had?

A shudder wound through Laney. “How many people will you kill to ensure her safety?”

He studied her for a moment before answering. “All of them.”


Matt crouched behind the tree and handed the binoculars to Laney. He felt fucking stupid forcing her to accompany him on the midnight mission, but he didn’t trust her not to flee him again. When given the choice between being handcuffed to the bed or joining him, she’d chosen to tag along.

Which was a good thing. Because if he’d cuffed her to the bed, he wouldn’t have wanted to leave her. Not only because there was possibly a serial killer after her, but because Laney spread out on a bed was a temptation he couldn’t resist.

She was so damn cute his teeth ached.

Once learning they were going on a clandestine mission after closing the bar, she’d dressed all in black, including a cap that covered her hair. If she’d had camo paint at the apartment, she probably would’ve slathered her stunning face with it. Even now, when she was pissed at him and scared of a serial killer, her eyes gleamed with fun as she eyed the cabin.

“They’re still awake,” she whispered.

A moan echoed through the night.

Laney choked. “Oh. They’re, ah, busy.”

Yeah. The sheriff was putting it to Tasha Friedan for the third time that night. “I gotta give it to the guy—he has some stamina.” Matt turned around and leaned his back against the tree. “I can’t go in until they freakin’ go to sleep.”

Laney pivoted and sat next to him. “Promise you won’t hurt them.”

He’d do what he had to do in order to secure the phone. “I won’t hurt them.” The lie cut through him and made him frown. “Promise you’ll stay right here.”

“I will.” She shrugged. “Running doesn’t make sense any longer. You found me, the commander will find me, I’m on the FBI’s radar, and apparently a killer wants me. I’m out of safe places to go… so I need to finish this. One way or the other.”

“Been giving it some thought, have you?” While he appreciated her logic, he didn’t like the fatalistic tone of her voice.

“Yes.”

“You’re going to survive this.” He’d make sure of it.

Her smile was sad, especially in the soft moonlight, as she wrung her hands together. “It’s doubtful any of us are going to survive this. I’ve had three good years here, and that’s more than some people get.” Her gaze ran his face in an almost physical caress. Sorrow echoed in her tone, nearly palpable with her regret. “It’s probably more than you’ve had.”

His five years of freedom had been good, but he’d been working hard the entire time to position himself and his brothers in a way to help them survive. “Is that what you meant in that you can’t have kids? I mean, that you knew the commander would find you?”

“Yes.” Her voice softened. “I couldn’t bring a child into the world knowing I was going to die soon. The commander will find me, and you know it.”

“No, he won’t. My brothers and I will make sure you live.” His feelings were convoluted and confusing as hell, but he wouldn’t let the commander or Emery hurt her. He’d spent time protecting her, caring for her, and he couldn’t just let that go.

“What’s it like? I mean, having brothers?” The wind picked up, and pine needles settled across her legs.

He brushed them away. “It’s good. I had to train them harder than the commander realized, and sometimes they hated me. But that was okay. We survived, and now Shane is happily married.”

“What about the other living brother?” she asked, curiosity in her voice.

Matt shouldn’t trust her. He couldn’t tell her anything about Nate. But he found himself answering anyway. “He’s on the edge… always. Drinks too much, fights too much, and plans to sacrifice himself to save us.”

“Same as you. Well, without the drinking and fighting.” She wrinkled her nose and glanced up at the full moon. “Maybe that’s what it’s like to have brothers—to be willing to die for somebody else. To plan on it.”

“I guess. We were raised as soldiers and studied as brothers. They used us against one another—if one of us escaped, the others would be killed. So we didn’t escape until we all could survive.” He plucked a weed by the tree. The woman was too easy to talk to, and the desire to share with her clouded his mind. “Thanks for giving me the location for the sheriff’s fishing hut.”

“No problem. When he skipped work today, I figured he’d gone fishing.” She peered around them to the quieting cabin. “Though I had no clue he was seeing Tasha.”

“At least that explains why he’d cover for her about her past.” Matt grimaced. “Though why they just don’t go after the bastard who hit her, I don’t understand.”

“Perhaps she’s too afraid,” Laney whispered. “If the sheriff loves her, he’d understand and let her choose her own path.” Then she grinned as more pine needles scattered around them. “I guess I’m not the only one drawn to Charmed.”

“Apparently not. You should’ve changed your name more.”

“Why? Laney is a far cry from Eleanor.”

“No, it isn’t. You should’ve changed your name to something completely different.” No reason existed for him to be so irritated with her choice of names, or for her courting danger when she shouldn’t have. If the commander had found her before Matt had, she’d be dead. But, that wasn’t his business, was it? Laney Jacobs didn’t belong to him, and he needed to stop acting like she did.

“I disagree with your assessment of my choice of fake names.” Her stubborn chin poked out. “I’ve been fine flying under the radar until you found me, and the search took you five years. So suck it.”

His head jerked up. “Did you just tell me to suck it?”

“Yes.” She turned back to watch the cabin.

The woman had grit, that was for sure. And no sense of self-preservation. When she forgot how dangerous their situation was and challenged him, he couldn’t decide whether to kiss her until she submitted, or flip her over his knee. God help them both when his temper decided for him. “Behave.”

You behave,” she retorted.

That did it. He shot an arm around her waist and tumbled her to the ground, stretching out atop her. While his elbows bracketed her and sustained his weight, he allowed enough pressure against her to keep her in place. Intensity poured through him with raw, living need at the contact. “I think we need to go over the rules again.”

Her eyes darkened to the shade of a pure, deep riverbed. Her lips parted. Indecision wavered across her face. With a smile that was all female, she leaned up and placed a soft kiss at the base of his throat. “No rules.”

Fire shot through him. His heart slammed hard enough that he was sure she could feel it against her breasts. He tried to breathe, tried to keep in control.

What in the hell was she doing?

She slid her fingers through his hair, scraping her nails along his scalp.

“Laney,” he breathed, her name a warning on his lips.

Her eyelids dropped, and she licked her way along his jaw to nip at his ear. She shifted beneath him, opening her legs and making room for them to get closer, her thighs bracketing his.

His cock sprang to full life, and his mouth took hers. Hard, demanding, he put the feelings he couldn’t recognize into the kiss. Gone was indecision, gone was anger, all burned away by a soft kiss to his jugular. His body went up in flames, and he didn’t care. He grabbed her ass, his hand scraping dirt, and rubbed her against his raging erection.

A soft sigh from the back of her throat yanked him back to reality.

Then her small hands banded around his back, and her body softened against him. She returned the kiss, her tongue stroking his, her thighs tightening against his.

Electricity roared down his spine to spark his balls.

He lifted his head, taking a deep breath and trying to regain control. They were on a mission, about to commit breaking and entering. She stared up at him, her eyes unfocused, her lips nicely swollen.

A part of him wanted to snap at her, to rage at the way she could light him on fire. But no matter what she’d done in the past, she was his responsibility now, and hurting her was out of the question. “I like kissing you.”

The surprise that flashed across her face mirrored the one inside of him. Now he couldn’t even control his speech.

She blinked, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “I wish we could go back to you liking me.”

“Me, too.” He rolled to the side and helped her into a seated position. The hurt that shot into her eyes hit him right in the chest. He blinked, the idea of causing her pain slamming denial through him. Through who he needed to be. “Okay. I still like you.”

“Do not.” Her lip pouted out and tempted him far too much.

He blew out air. “You don’t sound like a doctor.” She sounded way too down-to-earth and real… no snotty opinions or medical jargon.

“I can speak to you in Latin, if you wish.” Her slight grin still held sadness.

“Thanks, but no.” Latin would sound sexy coming from her, and he had enough problems.

She shrugged. “I was raised pretty much on my own. My friends were poor, and their families were poor. So once I went to college and medical school, I decided to sound like a real person and not an overeducated butthead. I decided to just be me.” A dark flush wandered from her chest to cover her face. “Well, until I decided to become somebody else. You know.”

He did know. Every time she explained her past, he wanted to like her more. “Tell me the commander forced you to work for him.”

Her lids dropped to half-mast. “I’m sorry, I can’t. Truth is, I willingly went to work for the organization, and I enjoyed the job for the most part. For the first year, I worked on finding drug regimens to help soldiers survive injuries. I really thought I was helping.”

“You didn’t question the experiments? Not once?” Those drug regimens had caused more problems than the training exercises.

“Sure. I have a brain, Matt. I knew the incredible results we gleaned could be misused. The science could be misused. But we were allowing people to live. To walk after spinal trauma, to think after brain trauma. I saw the danger and still participated.” She ran a hand down the side of his face. “I’m sorry, Mattie. I really am.”

The use of the nickname dashed cold water through him. While he didn’t believe she was trying to manipulate him, the fact that it’d be easy for her to do so caught him up short. “Okay. Let’s figure everything out later.” He turned to survey the now-darkened cabin. “I’m going in to get the phone.”

She grabbed his arm. “Won’t the sheriff notice his cell missing?”

“Yes, but hopefully I can just screw with the memory chip enough that he’ll think the phone malfunctioned and not question the missing pictures.”

She arched both eyebrows. “You’re going to replace the phone after you erase the picture?”

“That’s my plan.” He should cuff her, but to what? “I want your word you’ll be here when I get back.”

She nodded solemnly. “I promise.”

He studied her, his gut churning. He had no clue whether or not she was lying. “This trust is a one-shot deal you don’t want to blow.”

She rolled her eyes.

Damn it. “Fine.” He stood and strode silently through the trees and toward the darkened cabin. Rough steps led to the wraparound porch, which had old tackle gear and fishing poles hung for decoration. The place was rustic and didn’t even have a lock on the door.

He opened the door and slipped inside, taking several moments to accustom his eyes to the darkness. Two heartbeats pumped slowly from the cabin’s only other room—they were asleep. Good. He didn’t want to blow his cover—or have to hurt the sheriff.

Moonlight illuminated the main room to show a small kitchen and slightly bigger gathering room. A woman’s purse sat on the counter, surrounded by fishing paraphernalia. A stereo system was shoved to the side of the counter, and a smartphone had been plugged into the base.

Excellent.

He hustled over and lifted the phone. The sheriff’s screenshot was of a ten-pound bass, and the guy apparently didn’t believe in passwords. Matt scrolled to the photo screen and looked through the pictures.

The breath caught in his throat. Holy crap. The pictures were of Tasha in various stages of undress and—He shut his eyes. God. The woman had been smiling as she’d posed, so the couple had probably been having fun. But… ugh. He didn’t need to see some of those shots.

Swallowing, he ran through the remaining pictures—all were taken that day of the woman, the lake, and some fish they’d caught.

Matt replaced the phone in the holder and exited the cabin. Time to configure Plan B. He reached Laney and was surprised by the rush of relief that filled him.

She stood and gave him a questioning thumbs-up signal.

His grin came naturally even as he shook his head.

“Why not?” she whispered, glancing back toward the cabin.

For answer, he took her arm and led her back through the forest toward where he’d stashed his bike—a mile down the way. “The sheriff purged his phone before today, apparently. I need a whack at his computer.” Which would be beyond difficult considering the sheriff’s station was staffed twenty-four hours a day.

Laney bit her lip as he straddled the motorcycle. “That sucks.”

“I know.” He held out an arm to help her mount the bike. She hopped into place behind him like she belonged there.

They rode back to the bar, and he paid close attention to sights and sounds around them. Nothing seemed out of place. After parking the bike, they headed up the stairs to her apartment.

The note taped to her door caught him up short. Slowly, he tugged the paper away from the wood and unfolded: Did you like my present? She wasn’t as lovely as you are, and thus she had to go. She tried, but her love wasn’t enough. We have much to accomplish, you and I.

He handed the note to Laney, and the anger in him grew in direct proportion to the color that drained from her face. “I won’t let him near you.”

She swallowed. “Ah, should we call the FBI?”

The less interaction he had with governmental agencies, the better. Laney was safer with him, and notifying Patterson wouldn’t accomplish anything. “Let’s call them tomorrow. That way we won’t need to explain where we’ve been tonight.”

She paused and then nodded, unlocking and pushing the door open.

He caught her arm and drew her behind him as the moved into the apartment. No heartbeats, no breathing. He closed his eyes and listened. No humming of any type. The apartment was secure. “Okay.” He herded her inside, turned, and locked the door.

She brushed the cap off of her head, and her brunette hair framed her face. “So, um, I guess I’ll go to bed.” Desire and need shimmered in her eyes, even as she faltered near the doorway. “Are you coming?”

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