His hand rose to her neck. His fingers traced that scar.
“I hit him, drove at him as hard as I could. He fell back but jumped up and was coming at me again, yelling that he wasn’t going to prison because Sebastian had died. He screamed that if Sebastian had just given him the money, the boy wouldn’t have died. Sebastian’s mistake was that he fought back.” Her lashes lifted as her gaze held his. “I fought back, too. I grabbed the lamp from my grandfather’s desk, and I threw it at him. Even as it shattered, the office door was flying open. Hugh and Cameron rushed in. They’d heard the guy’s confession. He went to jail. Sebastian got his justice.”
Yes, he had.
“And I got a new job. One that was scary and hard and so worth every single moment and every drop of sweat and fear. It’s a job I intend to keep working, no matter what.”
And I thought she wasn’t strong enough to handle the dark? I am such a fucking fool.
He bent, and his lips brushed against her scar. He kissed it softly, the same way she’d kissed the marks on his body. “Something you should know,” he said. She was naked, sexy as all hell, stronger than steel and… “I love you, Ivy. Sometimes, I think I always have. And I know I always will.”
“Bennett?”
He forced himself to step back. “If I get a break in this case, I will be calling you,
partner
.”
Her eyes widened.
“Now if I don’t get the hell out of here…” His gaze dipped down her sheet-covered body. He swallowed. “I’ll be getting you in bed. And as much as I want that—want you—the chief and the mayor are waiting.”
He’d said that he loved her. She was pretty much staring at him in shock now. Had she really not known how he felt? Did she truly believe he’d left her before without a second glance? Leaving her had gutted him. For months, he’d walked around like half a person—because he’d left his heart with her.
He never wanted her to doubt how he felt—not ever again. He’d have to show her—every day for the rest of their lives—just how much she truly meant to him.
“I will be calling you,” he said again. Then he turned for the door. He’d only taken a few steps when Ivy said—
“Don’t you want to know how I feel?”
He glanced back. “I’m scared to know,” he said starkly. And that was the truth. He’d screwed things up between them. But if she would just give him time, he could build her trust back. Maybe even get her to care for him again.
“Oh, Bennett…you should never be afraid, not with me.” Her smile was tender. “I loved you since I was eighteen. It’s not the same love now, but I have a feeling that it’s going to be even better than before.”
Stay with her.
He wanted to, so badly. He wanted to stay and hold her and never let go.
But a killer was out there. One who threatened Ivy. One who had to be stopped.
“Partners, huh?” Ivy smiled and his heart stopped at that beautiful sight. “I really like that.”
So did he.
She headed back down the hallway. He didn’t move, not until she was gone, then, his steps wooden, he exited the house.
She loves me. She still loves me.
He was such a lucky bastard.
“Morning, Bennett!” Detective Drew Trout called out. The guy hurried up the sidewalk, giving him a quick nod.
Bennett stepped directly into the man’s path. He and the chief had decided that Drew would be the best person to keep watch over Ivy while Bennett was gone. The young detective was smart, tough, and he should be able to handle any threat that came up.
But…Bennett’s voice was curt as he said, “You stay with her, every moment. You keep your eyes on her. If
anything
happens that makes you even a little bit nervous, you call me, right away, got it?”
Drew’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes, sir. You know, this isn’t my first time working a case.”
Yeah, he knew, and that was why Bennett had picked the fellow. He didn’t trust any of the uniforms with a case of this magnitude.
I don’t really trust anyone with Ivy.
Bennett’s eyes narrowed. “She
is
the priority in this case, got it? You don’t jeopardize her for any reason.”
Because if you do, I will kick your ass.
“Sir.” Drew nodded quickly.
Good. They’d better be clear. Bennett hurried to his car. He climbed inside, cranked the engine, but didn’t leave. His gaze slid to his house once more.
She said…she loves me.
His fingers drummed against the wheel.
He hated the case right then. He hated anything that was keeping him away from Ivy.
“I’m telling you,” Cameron Wilde said as he paced in the interrogation room at the Mobile police station. “I don’t know where the Porsche is.” His hands fisted as he snarled, “It’s supposed to have one of those fancy security systems! You know, the kind where you can just ping some shit and the car is instantly located in the case of theft.” He stopped pacing and shot Bennett a furious glare. “I paid too much damn money for the car to just be gone!”
Bennett lifted a brow. “You were told by the Fort Morgan officers that the car was linked to a murder.”
Cameron paled. “Yes. Shelly. Poor, sweet Shelly…” He marched to the little table in the middle of the room and pulled out the chair across from Bennett. Cameron sat down, his body falling a bit heavily. “I tried to call Hugh on my way here, but he didn’t answer. Shit, I hope he doesn’t wind up like his old man. Is the guy on suicide watch?”
Bennett didn’t let his expression alter. “Ivy was going to be with him.” He’d had the same fears about Hugh, especially after last night.
“So messed up.” Cameron’s head sagged forward. “None of this was supposed to happen.”
That was an odd turn of phrase. A bit wary now, Bennett studied the other man. “Just what
was
supposed to happen?”
Cameron’s shoulders stiffened. Very slowly, he glanced up. “Hugh was supposed to marry Shelly.”
Bennett reached for the manila file on his left. He wanted to see Cameron’s reaction to the photo. “I guess when Shelly changed her hair color, she was too much of a temptation for the killer.”
“She…changed her hair color?”
He flipped open the file and pushed a crime scene photo toward Cameron.
The guy’s eyelids barely twitched. “She’s a brunette now.”
She was also covered in blood. She was your friend. And you’re just staring at her with almost clinical curiosity.
“Stabbed, like the others?” Cameron asked.
“Others?” Bennett cocked his head to the side.
Cameron flushed. “Look, stop it. Stop trying to jerk me around. You think I haven’t been following this case? The minute Ivy was involved, I got involved, too.”
Had he?
“Others…
others
,” Cameron snapped. “The councilman, that woman at the parade—Evette something or other.”
“Evette Summers” Bennett supplied, still watching the other man carefully.
“Right. Evette Summers.” Cameron cleared his throat. “How damn tragic.”
Bennett’s instincts were on full alert. He’d never liked Cameron, mostly because the guy had always been sniffing around Ivy.
“It’s actually even more tragic than we first assumed.” Bennett pulled the photo away. He noticed that Cameron’s gaze followed the image until it was placed back in the folder. “There are more victims.”
“More?”
“Quite a few more,” he said casually. “Here…and in New Orleans.”
Cameron leaned forward. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
“Just how long has this madman been killing? And why hasn’t he been stopped?” Cameron jumped to his feet. “Shelly is gone, murdered…and this animal is still out on the streets?”
“For the moment.” He looked up at Cameron. The guy had taken up a dominant position, towering over him.
Why would he feel the need to claim dominance?
Bennett had learned a whole lot regarding body language when he’d been hunting with the Violent Crimes division at the FBI.
“You can be assured,” Bennett continued slowly as he rose and faced off against Cameron, “that I will not rest until this perp is apprehended.”
“This
perp.”
There was the faintest emphasis on that last word. “Good. Good. I hope you catch him and you kill him.” Cameron whirled on his heel and marched for the door.
I never said we were done.
“Killing him isn’t my goal. Arresting him is.”
Cameron’s hand was almost touching the door, but he stopped and looked back at Bennett. “They
look
like Ivy,” he rasped. “I see it, and I know you see it, too. That Evette—her picture was splashed in the paper. I thought she
was
Ivy at first. And now Shelly is killed—killed when her hair goes dark like Ivy’s…” He yanked a hand over his face. “The killer—the
perp—
is going to come for Ivy. While you’re in here, showing me pictures of—
Shelly was my friend!
” He suddenly exploded. “She shouldn’t have died!” He gulped in a deep gasp of air. “But Ivy…Ivy could be next.”
Bennett stalked toward him. “Just how do you feel about Ivy DuLane?”
Cameron laughed, but the sound was bitter. “How do you
think
I feel? I’ve been in love with her my whole damn life. Hung up on a girl who could never see past you, not even when you left her. When you took her father’s money and roared out of town and didn’t so much as glance back to see that you’d
wrecked
her.”
Ivy wasn’t wrecked. She was strong. Determined. Smart.
“I stayed by her. I stayed by Hugh. Their father only lasted a year before the guilt ate him up and he put that gun in his mouth.” His eyes glittered. “You think that shit was easy? She mourned without you. All that time—without you.”
“You know I came back then,” Bennett bit out the words. He had come back, so desperate for her. But when he’d gotten to the DuLane home, Cameron had met him at the door. “You’re the one who told me—”
“That Ivy had moved on.” A mocking smile curled Cameron’s lips. “Because I thought that she really might. I thought she’d finally give me my chance. But it didn’t work. She could
never
see past you. Even though you’re the worst thing that could ever happen to her.”
The sonofabitch had lied to him.
“You never told Ivy I was there, did you?”
Cameron glared at him.
Bennett wanted to drive his fist into Cameron’s jaw.
“I would have been good to her,” Cameron said, voice rough. “I thought that night we were together, she’d see…”
Bennett’s hands had fisted.
“But the next morning, she would barely look at me.” Cameron’s jaw jutted up. “Is that what you want to hear? That I was desperate for her and she couldn’t stand the sight of me…because I wasn’t you?”
“I love her,” Bennett said flatly.
Rage flashed in Cameron’s gold stare. “Why does she love you back?
Why you?”
Then Cameron shook his head in disgust. “You should have done us all a favor and just let the Greenville Trapper kill your ass.”
Now Bennett fully understood. Cameron hated him. Good to know.
I hate his skinny ass, too.
“I’m done here, Detective. You have more questions for me, then you talk to my lawyer. Right now, my friends need me. The friends
I
never abandoned.” He threw another look of disgust at Bennett and then stomped from the room.
Bennett picked up the manila file and headed back into the bullpen. He saw that Cameron had stopped and was talking animatedly with the chief. Probably making threats.
Against me, no doubt.
Then Cameron stormed toward the exit doors.
Bennett approached the chief.
The chief whistled. “Someone sure is pissed off.”
Bennett gazed after the guy. “I don’t trust that guy.”
“Is it personal, though, Detective? Or professional?”
“Personally, I want to beat the hell out of him, sir.” Bennett’s fingers tightened around the file. “And professionally…something is wrong. During that whole interview, his affect was off.”
The chief cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, he just found out that his friend was murdered. That the killer stole
his
car and fled the murder scene. The man could be in shock.”
Could be… “I want to dig deeper into his life.” A hell of a lot deeper.
The chief raised a brow. “And this has nothing to do with the fact that the papers have been linking him and Ivy DuLane for years?”
Was he jealous of the guy? Hell, yes, he was jealous of any man who’d gotten too close to Ivy. They’d slept together. And that made him see damn blazing red. But…
But it
wasn’t
just personal. “I want to dig deeper,” Bennett said flatly. Because something was off. Just wrong.
The chief slapped his hand down on Bennett’s shoulder. “Then go get a big shovel. Do whatever the hell you need to do.” He brought his head in close to Bennett. “Just find out what’s happening in my city.”
He would. And he knew where he wanted to start. “Let’s put a tail on Cameron Wilde…”
***
“Hugh?” Ivy called as she opened the door to her brother’s condo. She always kept a key, for emergencies and those too frequent times when her brother went out for a jog and accidentally locked himself out. He lived just a few blocks from her place, so she’d spent plenty of days running over to help him.
Today wasn’t one of those lost key days.
Today…
“
Miss?”
Detective Trout reached for her wrist. The light glinted off his blond hair. “Why don’t you let me go in first?”
Hugh hadn’t answered when she’d knocked on the door. Or when she’d called him, again and again. So she’d let herself in. And she could tell by the worry on the cop’s face that he didn’t think they were going to find a good scene inside that condo.
Everyone knows my father killed himself. That was his legacy.
It wouldn’t be Hugh’s. “My brother is okay,” she said fiercely.
“Let me go in first.” Now the cop’s voice was firm.
Ivy stepped back. Her heart was pounding too fast. Her hands were shaking and they just wouldn’t stop. The cop drew his gun and slowly entered the condo.
Hugh, don’t do this. Don’t do this, please!
“Hugh DuLane!” Detective Trout yelled. “I’m with the Mobile PD. Your sister is here—”
There was a groan. A pain-filled sound that tore at Ivy’s chest. She leapt forward, trying to push around the cop.
He pushed her back. “Hugh DuLane!” The detective’s voice was a yell.
Ivy got a good look at the inside of the condo. The place was trashed. Glass shattered. Couch cushions overturned. The TV had been thrown against a wall.
Her hand rose, covering her mouth.
“Leave….” A low snarl.
Her gaze jerked to the left. Hugh was there, standing. Staggering, really. He lifted a hand and put it to the wall for support. “Just…leave.”
No, she wasn’t leaving him. Dodging the cop, Ivy ran to her brother’s side. “Hugh…” She could smell the alcohol wafting off him. “What did you do to yourself?”
His bleary eyes blinked at her. “I only left her for a few minutes, Ives. Just a few minutes…”
She wrapped her hands around him and held on tight.
“Just like with dad…I only left him for a few minutes…and then I heard the boom…”
***
“We’ve got a team on Cameron Wilde,” Chief Quarrel said as he strode into Bennett’s office. “Just like you asked. Hell, I figured it couldn’t be a bad thing. The guy should even thank us. I mean, the killer stole his car. Could mean he’s next on the victim list.”
“Our killer was just supposed to like women with dark hair,” Bennett said as he tried to reason out this damn case. “If he’s a true serial…hunting to quench some desire that he feels…or a rage that’s directed at a woman who physically looks that way…then why the hell is the councilman dead? Shouldn’t the killer have hesitated a bit? I mean, if he only goes after women, then he seriously changed up his pattern.”
“Not if it was just a crime of opportunity,” the chief argued. “That’s what he pretty much told you when he called Ivy, right? That the councilman got in his way…”
And I can’t help but wonder…has anyone else ever gotten in the killer’s way?
Bennett’s fingers flew over the keyboard. And finally—finally—he got access to the records that he needed. His gaze scanned over the notes from the first officer on scene.
“Uh, Detective Morgan?”
“He was the one who found the body,” Bennett said as he quickly scanned the material on the screen.
“Excuse me?” The chief advanced and the floor creaked beneath his feet.
Bennett didn’t spare him a glance. “According to this report, when Senator DuLane committed suicide, two other people were in the house—his son Hugh and Hugh’s best friend, Cameron Wilde.”
He put a gun in his mouth.
Cameron had said those words so coldly.
“The way he talked when I had him in interrogation, I suspected that Cameron had found the body, and he did.” It was right there in the report. Hugh had gone out for a swim. And Cameron had been the one inside the house. He’d been the one to rush into the Senator’s bedroom and find him sprawled on the ground.
“The senator’s case?” Now the chief was leaning over him to stare at the screen, too. “Why are you digging that back up now? Is it because of what Hugh said last night?”
“Not Hugh.”
He was outside.
“Cameron Wilde.” He clicked the mouse and opened photos taken from the scene of the senator’s death. “Look, he had blood on his clothes…” He saw the clothes right there. Pictures of them. They’d been bagged and tagged for evidence. His eyes narrowed as he read about that analysis.
“Well, yes, of course there was blood on him.” The chief sounded aggrieved now. “He tried to revive the guy at first. That’s what he told the officers. You think I don’t remember this case? It’s not every day a man like DuLane eats his gun.”
Did he eat it?
“Although why the hell Cameron tried to revive him is beyond me,” Chief Quarrel said gruffly. “The senator was missing half of his damn head.”
That picture was there, too. Horrifying. Gory. A picture of the senator…with the gun still cradled in his hand.
Only…
Is that right? If he’d fired the gun, wouldn’t it have fallen from his fingers when the bullet slammed into his head? At impact, he should have lost control of his hand, not continued gripping the weapon, even in death.
At the very least, when the senator fell to the floor, the gun should have flown from his hand. Not still been held so conveniently there.
Bennett tapped on the keyboard again and went right back to reading the report about Cameron’s blood stained clothes and—“Gunshot residue.”
“Dammit, man, focus on
this
case!” The chief snarled, his patience obviously gone. “We don’t need to waste time in the past just because some—”