Chapter Eighteen
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Lauren lay in bed. Her body still humming from the great sex. And her mind at peace. In fact, there were a lot of things at peace. It felt as if her body and everything in her world had finally released a breath it’d been holding for a very long time.
The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting streaks of orange and pink across the sky.
The soft glow filtered through the window, painting Jesse’s bedroom in warm, fading light.
From where Lauren lay, tangled in the sheets, she could see the pasture outside, Jesse’s two horses grazing lazily in the distance, their dark silhouettes framed against the last sliver of daylight.
Jesse was beside her, his arm draped across her bare stomach, his skin warm and solid.
The room still carried the heat of what had just happened between them, the kind of intimacy that left her feeling both sated and vulnerable.
She stared at the ceiling for a moment, her thoughts drifting, before she turned her head slightly to look at him.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly, her voice a low murmur in the quiet room.
Jesse glanced at her, a small, lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Our first date,” he said, his tone light. “And, you know… more sex with you.”
Lauren let out a laugh, shaking her head as she nudged him playfully with her shoulder. But the laughter faded quickly, and that hard fought peace slipped away for a moment.
She stared at the ceiling again, her voice quieter this time. “I’m glad Reggie’s dead,” she admitted, the words heavier than she expected. “I’m glad Reardon took that shot and made it.”
Jesse didn’t say anything, just traced slow, absent circles on her skin with his fingertips. “But?” he questioned. “I hear a but in there.”
“But,” she continued, her throat tightening, “I keep thinking… why did Reardon take it? Why risk that shot when Elsie was right there? What if it wasn’t just about stopping Reggie?
What if—” she hesitated, then forced the words out, “—what if he shot him because Reggie was about to say something? Something that could have incriminated Reardon?”
“Yes,” Jesse said so quickly that it confirmed that the possibility had already crossed his mind.
Of course, it had. He was a good cop, and veteran cops like Reardon wouldn’t have normally taken a shot that risky.
Lauren felt the weight of her thoughts pressing down harder than the warm comfort of Jesse’s arm around her.
The quiet stretched between them, filled only by the faint white noise of the A/C and the soft rhythm of their breathing.
But it wasn’t enough to drown out the voice in her head, the questions she couldn’t shake.
“There’s something else,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t easy to say this aloud.
It made it more…real.
Jesse shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her, his brow furrowed now.
“Reggie never admitted to taking Abilene and Nicky,” she continued, her gaze still locked on the ceiling as if the answer might be written there.
“He was bragging about other things, taunting me, acting like a cocky asshole.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
“So why wouldn’t he brag about his latest conquests?
Why not take credit for what he did to them? ”
Jesse didn’t respond right away, but she could feel the tension in him, the shift in his breathing, the way his fingers stilled against her skin. She finally turned her head to look at Jesse, her eyes searching his face for something she couldn’t quite define.
“What if Reggie didn’t take them?” Lauren asked, voicing the words that would make this all too real. “What if someone else did?”
The sound shot through the room, causing her to gasp, and she was so on edge that at first, Lauren thought it was Reggie coming back to haunt her. But it was only Jesse’s phone. He’d obviously put it on vibrate, and it was now skittering on the top of the nightstand.
“It’s Griff,” he muttered, answering the call. “You’re on speaker, Griff. Lauren’s with me.”
There was a slight pause on the other end before Griff spoke, his voice carrying a hesitant edge. “Am I… interrupting?”
Jesse smirked faintly, shooting Lauren a quick glance. “No. Not at the minute.”
Lauren sat up slightly, pulling the sheet with her, her instincts already bracing for whatever was coming next.
Griff didn’t waste time. “I just got a call from Austin PD. Isabel found her gardener’s body on the grounds of her estate. The guy’s been shot in the head. Looks like he’s been dead for hours—maybe even a day.”
Lauren felt a cold rush sweep through her. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?
“The guy’s name was Clyde Herbert,” Griff continued. “He had a small cottage on the estate. The cops searched it and found dozens of pictures—of you, Jesse, Lauren, Reardon, Belinda, Isabel, Abilene, and Nicky. It’s like the guy was tracking everyone connected to this case.”
Jesse sat up straighter, his jaw tightening. “You think he was Reggie’s accomplice?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Griff replied. “They found a receipt for a spike strip and ammunition in the cottage. And there’s more—a burner phone. Turns out it was used to call the real estate agent in Outlaw Ridge.”
Lauren’s heart raced, the pieces clicking together in her mind. “The call that sent the agent to the shop… where she found Nicky’s blood.”
“Exactly,” Griff confirmed.
Lauren’s mind spun. Clyde Herbert . The man had been right there—close to Isabel—and according to Isabel, Clyde had been the one who’d hired Reggie.
She exchanged a look with Jesse, the same thought flashing between them.
Reggie hadn’t been working alone .
Lauren’s mind raced as she processed Griff’s words, the tension in her chest tightening like a vice. “Is there something that connects Clyde to Reggie?” she asked Griff. “Are they related?”
“No,” Griff replied quickly. “But it’s possible they served time together. Clyde was in the same prison as Reggie about eleven years ago. They could’ve met then.”
Lauren’s stomach twisted. That connection felt too direct to be a coincidence. Before she could respond, Griff’s voice cut back in, sounding distracted. “Hang on—I just got another text.”
Jesse glanced at Lauren, his jaw tight, while they waited in tense silence.
A few seconds later, Griff returned. His tone was different this time, more focused, the weight of something new behind his words. “You’re not going to believe this. Clyde had counseling sessions with Dr. Graves after he was released from prison. That’s part of his parole records.”
Lauren’s breath hitched. Bingo . That wasn’t just a coincidence—it was a direct, suspicious link.
Jesse muttered a single word of profanity under his breath, “That’s a connection we need to check out.”
Griff agreed. “Yeah. And there’s more. The cops found some old pictures in Clyde’s cottage—of another woman. She’s blindfolded, with her hands duct-taped, just like the ones of Lauren and Isabel.”
Lauren felt a cold chill spread through her, her mind flashing back to the bunker, to the voices she’d heard but never seen.
“It’s possible that she’s the third victim,” Griff spelled out. “The one who was in the bunker with you and Isabel.”
Lauren swallowed hard, her pulse thudding in her ears. Oh, God. The nightmare wasn’t over—not even close.
“I’m at the station now, but I’m going to start going through all this data and the photos that Austin PD is sending me,” Griff went on.
“And, yeah, it’s past normal duty hours, but I talked to Isabel before I called you, and she’s coming into the station to see if she can help ID the woman.
She should be here in about a half hour. ”
Lauren’s mind was spinning with everything Griff had just told them, but she knew what needed to be done.
“I want to go into the station,” she was quick to say. “I have to hear what Isabel says about the blindfolded woman. When I was in that bunker, I never saw Isabel or anyone else, but maybe she saw something—anything—that could help identify her.”
Jesse was already sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his expression tight with determination. “I want to come in, too.”
Lauren had known he would. And she was glad that he’d be by her side. No, not just because they’d had sex and she felt closer than ever to Jesse. But having him there with her would keep her steady, and right now, she desperately needed that.
“Griff, we’ll be there soon,” Jesse assured him.
“Got it,” Griff replied, then ended the call.
Jesse set aside his phone, pulling back the covers as they climbed out of bed.
Their clothes were scattered across the room so it was a hunt to find everything.
As she reached for her pants, Jesse reached for his jeans, and his fingers brushing against hers for just a second.
The touch sparked something electric—something hot and undeniable.
Yes, she definitely felt closer to him than ever, and her body was wishing they could get a whole lot closer right now. She leaned in, her mouth meeting his in a quick, heated kiss. Jesse didn’t hesitate, deepening it, his hands sliding to her waist, pulling her closer for a breathless moment.
But reality snapped back very fast for both of them.
Lauren broke the kiss, her forehead resting against his for a brief second, both of them catching their breath. “We’ve got to go.”
“Yeah,” Jesse murmured.
They forced themselves away from each other. No more touching. No more kissing. For now anyway. They dressed quickly, and once they were ready, Jesse grabbed his phone and keys, and they headed to the garage.
Lauren climbed into Jesse’s truck, her mind still tangled with the weight of Griff’s call and with all these feelings that she had for Jesse. The timing was so bad for this, but she was certain of one thing.
She was falling in love with Jesse.
No way would she mention that now. Maybe not ever. She didn’t want him to think she was some starry-eyed teenager who could mistake sex for love. Plus, it might send Jesse running if he thought she had these deep feelings for him. It was best not to wear her heart on her sleeve.
Jesse slid behind the wheel of the truck, started the engine, and backed out of the garage once he’d used the remote to open the door.
The headlights swept across the gravel drive, cutting through the darkness.
A full moon did some cutting, too, the illumination making his pasture look like the picture on a postcard.
“Do you think the third woman was still in the bunker when you escaped?” Jesse asked.
No more picture postcard moment. She knew he hadn’t wanted to sling her back into that nightmare, but they still had questions about what’d happened, and Lauren knew she might unknowingly hold the answers.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I heard two other voices—faint, muffled. Mostly sounds, not words. But I remember one of them screaming.” She paused, the memory so sharp, so clear.
It was a sound etched deep into her bones.
“I didn’t hear the screams on the last day.
Shortly before I got out. It was… quiet. ”
Jesse glanced at her, his jaw tight. “Quiet because she wasn’t there anymore—or because she couldn’t scream?”
Lauren felt that question like a stone dropping into her chest. She didn’t have the answer. Maybe she didn’t want it.
She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know. But if Isabel saw anything—if she remembers something—we need to find out.”
Jesse nodded, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but his hand drifted over the console, brushing against hers briefly. Just a small touch, grounding her.
As they neared the end of Jesse’s long driveway, Lauren’s thoughts were tangled with the echoes of screams from the past—muffled, distant, but never really gone. The truck’s headlights carved through the darkness, the beams stretching ahead toward the open road.
Then it happened.
A swooshing sound a split-second before all hell broke loose.