Chapter 10
P olly was shaking. She couldn’t stop. Something inside her had known what she was about to find in that basement. But seeing it… God, seeing the bodies of the two women was like a gut punch. Worse, it was like every nightmare she’d ever had rolled together but in real life.
She scrunched her eyes closed, but the bodies appeared behind her lids. Not just the bodies, their eyes. Dull and lifeless as they stared up at her.
She deepened her breathing, focusing on the air moving in and out of her lungs. She didn’t want to be sick again. There were too many people here now.
Ward. His deputies. Joel’s entire team and people with gurneys for the bodies. Everyone moved around her, while she just sat on the bottom step in front of the house, watching without really seeing.
Joel had been with her while she’d spoken to Ward and Deputy Cox. He’d been by her side while she’d tried to breathe through the nausea and panic. And now he was talking to Ward.
It was strange, but she wanted him back with her.
She’d never really wanted a guy to save her, or even for comfort, but right now she wanted his warmth to radiate into her like a heater. She felt cold and shaky, and every few minutes bile tried to crawl up her throat and break free.
When Joel left Ward and started toward her, oxygen flowed through her lungs with a bit more ease.
He knelt in front of her, concern creasing small lines beside his eyes. “How are you doing?”
“Not good.” The most honest words she’d ever spoken.
“Do you want me to call Maggie or your mom?”
She shook her head. Maggie had just gone through a lot. She didn’t need to look after Polly right now. And her mom had never been much of a comfort.
He slipped a piece of hair behind her ear. “Do you want me to take you home?”
Again, she shook her head. Her house would feel big and empty, and memories of what she’d seen in that basement would toy with her all night.
His eyes shifted between hers for a few moments.
“Okay.” That was all he said. Then he took her hand and tugged her to her feet before leading her toward his truck.
“Can I have your car keys?” His words were soft and gentle and slipped over her skin like silk.
She didn’t ask what he wanted with them. She just handed them to him, trusting him in whatever he was about to do. He disappeared for a moment before returning to his truck.
She didn’t question where he was taking her. She didn’t care. As long as it wasn’t home and she wasn’t by herself, he could take her wherever he wanted.
She didn’t want to look too deeply into why she trusted him so much. That would be tomorrow’s problem.
Five minutes later, he pulled up in front of a rustic mountain-style home. There was lots of wood and stone, with large windows. The area had neighbors, but the lots were big enough that the houses didn’t feel on top of each other.
Joel parked in the driveway and was at her door before she’d finished releasing her seat belt.
The second they stepped inside the house, a cat appeared, moving straight over to Joel and rubbing against his leg, purring.
She frowned. “You have a cat?”
“I told you I have a cat.” He lifted the animal and scratched its head. “You named her Saint for me, remember?”
“I thought she was something you made up to calm me down from my panic attack.”
“Nope. This cat came with the house and has well and truly claimed me as her owner. Or her servant—depends which way you look at it.”
Despite everything, a ghost of a smile curved her lips. She patted the cat’s head, and the animal purred and pushed deeper into Polly’s touch.
“Who were they?” The words slipped into the air, and she almost wanted to tug them back.
There was a small pause from Joel before he put the cat down. “Nikki Bishop and Zoe Ewin.”
The two tourists who’d gone missing in recent months.
“It’s a serial killer,” Polly whispered, the shake now in her voice too. “Nikki. Zoe. Priya and Jenna. And maybe even the missing people from before. Eileen and Maggie’s mother.”
Joel closed that short distance between them and cupped her cheeks. “You’re safe here.”
She nodded, but the move was stilted. If all the deaths were by the same person, then they’d been killing for over twenty years. They were so good at covering their tracks that they were still going.
“You need a warm shower.” He rubbed her arms. “I’ll make us food?—”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll make food because you need to eat. While I do, you shower.”
Without waiting for her response, he took her hand in his large one and led her into a big dark-toned bedroom with a wooden headboard and oak bedside tables. They stepped through into a bathroom.
“Call if you need anything.” Then he pressed a kiss to her temple and left, the soft click of the bathroom door closing behind him.
The second he was gone, she wanted to call him back. But that was stupid. She really did want to shower, and it wasn’t like she could ask him to join her.
She turned on the water, stripped, and stepped under the warm stream.
Joel was right. This was what she needed. A hot shower. A moment alone to process everything.
She stayed in there until thick fog filled the air. Until her fingers grew wrinkly and her skin was hot to touch.
When she stepped out, she opened the door into the bedroom to see folded clothing— her clothing—on the bed and a handwritten note beside it.
Maggie grabbed these for you. J.
One side of her mouth lifted at the sight of her comfiest, baggiest sweats and her gray hoodie.
Maggie knew her well.
But if Maggie knew what had happened, then her best friend had no doubt called and texted. Polly had switched off her phone in the car. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was her way of shutting out the world.
She’d need to call Maggie back, but right now her capacity felt pretty low.
Once she was dressed in the clean clothes, she left the bedroom and followed the scent of spices.
She stopped in the living room at the sight of Joel in the kitchen, by the stove. He’d taken off his sweater and wore a gray T-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders.
He looked big and strong and safe.
He turned his head, his lips kicking up. “Hey. I’ve made some chili for lunch slash dinner. I’m not sure what three in the afternoon classifies as.”
“I love chili.” Whether she could actually eat was another question.
“Sit. I’ll bring you a bowl when it’s ready.”
She swallowed, not moving for a second, because this…Joel…it all felt so comfortable that it almost made her want to run.
Even though she’d told him last night that she wasn’t scared to fall for him, that was a lie. She was terrified.
Two dead bodies. They’d found two dead fucking bodies today. And Polly had been right there to see them.
His fingers tightened around the wooden spoon as he mixed the chili.
He’d seen lifeless bodies before. As a SEAL, it was part of the job. But Polly hadn’t. She wasn’t used to that world. The one where darkness, evil, not only existed but lived right in front of you. This darkness had invaded her hometown. Hell, it had entered her coffee shop.
A mixture of rage and fear swam around his chest at the thought of the killer stepping into her café. Ordering her coffee. Talking to her.
He forced his jaw to unclench as he took out two bowls from the upper cabinet.
His phone rang from the counter, his father’s name flashing across the screen. They were both calling him now. Speaking to either of them was the last thing he wanted to do. Right at the fucking bottom.
He ignored the call, and once the bowls were filled with chili, he took them to the couch and handed one to Polly.
“Thanks.” She slipped the bowl from his fingers but didn’t immediately eat. Instead, she just pushed the food around.
He lowered to the other side of the couch. He was close but felt too far away.
Saint jumped onto his lap and dug her head into his chest.
Polly’s brows flickered. “I still can’t believe you have a cat.”
“Why not? Do I not look like a cat dad?”
“What does a cat dad look like?”
He grinned. “You’re staring at him, Sunshine.”
She gave him the smallest smile. He wanted more. He wanted the full, radiant curve of her lips.
The smile dropped quickly. “I should have listened to you. I should have walked away the second we saw the trail across the floor and let you call your team to investigate.”
“Everything’s always clearer in hindsight.”
“My mother used to say to me that a bit of fire’s good, but don’t let it burn your fingers. Today, I definitely got burned.”
“You know what else you did?” He waited for her to look up. “You found the missing women.”
“They were dead.”
“You still found them, something no one else has been able to do. Maybe there’ll be fingerprints. Ward sure as hell better get that Bloom cup tested for DNA. It could all lead us to our killer.”
“There were no leads before this?”
He wished he could say there were. He wished they had a short list of people. Suspects. Anything. “No.”
“God, this person is so good at making women disappear while protecting their identity.”
Okay, they needed a change in subject. “Tell me how you created such a beloved business.”
Her brows shot up. “You want to hear about Bloom?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty impressive.”
She scoffed. “The first time you came into the café, you said my store was confused about whether it was a bookshop, a florist, or a café.”
“I was trying to impress you with my wit.”
She laughed. Then she started talking about Bloom. About the seedling of an idea that had grown as a teenager who loved books and flowers and pastry. Of how she’d worked three jobs just to save up before the opportunity had finally presented itself.
And he listened. He soaked up every word because her voice was like a melody. Listening to her, hearing her story, her passion, made him want to stretch this moment out and hear more.
“Were you so motivated to be independent because of your mom?”
“Absolutely.” Some of that familiar spark returned to her eyes.
“I couldn’t live in that house with her anymore.
It was like a revolving door of men. We’d get into the biggest fights.
I’d tell her that she didn’t need to rebound from one guy to another, and she’d yell back that it was her life and if I loved her, I’d support her.
But it’s hard to support someone when you know they’re going to get their heart broken. ”
“And you were the one she sought comfort from afterward.”
Her gaze flashed up, and she frowned at him. “How did you know?”
“A gut feeling.”
“Yeah. I take care of her. Every time. Because even though I warn her, even though I beg her to just be single for a while, she’s still my mom and I want her to be okay.” Polly shook her head. “This all probably sounds so silly to you.”
“Why?”
“Well, according to certain articles, your parents are the Hiltons of Houston.”
His fingers tightened around his spoon. “Money doesn’t make a perfect family or upbringing. In my case, the opposite.”
“You didn’t get along with your parents?”
“They never wanted to be parents. They just wanted a kid they could control.”
“And that wasn’t you.”
It wasn’t a question. Still, he answered. “That wasn’t me.”
“I hate it when people have kids but aren’t prepared to really parent them the way they deserve. It’s why I’ll never have kids. I don’t want to mess anyone up.”
“Never?”
“Never. Marriage is a no too. I won’t ever rely on anyone else, and I don’t want anyone to rely on me.”
He’d never wanted marriage or kids either. But since meeting Polly…he could be convinced. “I want you to stay the night.”
She shot him a look. “Like sleep here?”
“Yeah, Sunshine, that’s what stay the night means.”
She opened her mouth, and he was sure the word “no” was about to pop out. Because in his mind, there was no way she’d agree.
He wanted her to say yes though. He wanted to know that she was sleeping under the same roof as him. That she was safe.
More silence passed before, finally, she nodded. “I mean…I thought that’s what we were doing when you rolled up here.”
He couldn’t help it—he laughed. “Good.”