Chapter 6
6
ALTA
N o way it was my imagination. The Mathews guy was strange.
Okay, strange wasn’t the right word.
Intense. Focused. Authoritative. Dominant.
Who knew those traits wrapped in a hard, tattooed exterior would be a lure for someone like me. You’d think feeling the overwhelming intensity pulsing off him would make me run screaming, but it was just the opposite with this guy. I had to hold back from running into his arms and clinging onto him like a spider monkey.
In unison, our seat belts clicked into place. As Agent Peters backed out of the parking spot, I nonchalantly swiped both clammy hands down my thighs and said a silent prayer that a wet streak wouldn’t be left in their wake. Who would’ve thought I’d be nervous due to the super-close, hot, brooding man and not from being trapped in the car, somewhat helpless, with two strange men.
It was odd, but what I’d told John was the truth, I trusted them. The Peters guy seemed harmless, and Mathews… well he looked scary as hell, but Benny seemed to like him, and something else settled in my gut the second he’d helped me up. Somehow, someway, I felt safe when he was around.
A feeling I’d never expected to have again. Such a welcomed relief that I was willing to stomach all the nervous energy that buzzed through me any time he was around.
The compulsion to flick the locks festered even with Mathews and Peters close.
Eyes on the lock button, I casually tossed out a question to distract them from my plan. “You mentioned dropping your gear off first. Where are you two staying?” Once, twice, and a third time—just in case—I clicked in rapid succession.
With my crazy ritual completed, I eased back against the seat, feeling more at ease.
“Directions say about five miles from here. I wanted to find something in the park, but it was too late notice, I guess. Nothing was available.”
“Yeah, those cabins go quick, and those who donate to the park itself get top priority. A little ‘I’ll scratch your back and you scratch mine’ action.”
“Sounds nice.” Peters glanced to the rearview mirror, a small smile forming at whatever he found. “I like my back scratched. How about you, Officer Johnson?”
I smiled at Peters’s lame attempt to flirt, and he shot a welcoming smile back. A low growl of warning from the back seat made me turn to scowl at Benny. What was his deal?
“Anyway,” Peters said, drawing my focus back to him, “it’s a small cabin community just up ahead.”
Keeping one hand on the wheel, he tossed his cell phone into my lap and nodded to the screen. I didn’t need to look at it to know where we were going. I knew the community because it was mine.
“Looks like we’ll be neighbors,” I said. Catching myself peeling at the cuticles around my thumbs, I tucked both anxious hands beneath my thighs.
Neighbors. Great.
That meant he’d be close. Way too close, or not close enough?
My thoughts and emotions clashed as we continued to drive. Of all the places in Estes Park, of course they end up by me. Fine, I’m okay, no biggie. Except it was. There was no way I could stay away with them being within walking distance. I already wanted to see more of him and he was in the back seat. The way he made me tense, excited, scared, hot all at the same time was exciting—electric even.
I inhaled deeply to clear the wandering lusty thoughts that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Potential serial killer.
FBI.
Missing women.
That was my focus, not the brooding man whose eyes were burning a hole through the back of my head with his laser stare.
“Good,” Peters said, still smiling. It irked me, like I was left out of an inside joke between the two men. “I’ll want your help when reading through your notes and pictures from the two cases here. The close proximity will be beneficial for everyone.”
Another low growl had me shooting daggers at Benny. Really, what was his problem?
“If you’re open to it, I could use your help sorting through the Smoky Mountains case files too.” Peters shifted in the driver seat, alternating hands on the wheel. “Without the special agent here, I’ll have to decipher her notes, and I noticed in your file that you worked in that park for a while. You’d have a better point of reference when going through them than me.”
“Of course. I’d love to?—”
“No.” The word was curt and commanding from the back seat.
I whipped around with narrowed eyes, finding Sergeant Mathews glaring right back. “No?”
“It’s a great idea.” Peters’s light tap against my shoulder jolted me toward the window, my muscles’ natural reaction to pull me away from the touch. “Mathews is the muscle of the operation, not the brains.”
“Fuck you,” Mathews grumbled.
“Why do you say no?” I asked, crossing both arms across my chest and leaning against the window to monitor both men at the same time.
Sergeant Mathews’s dark eyes burned into mine, inching up the heat flowing through my veins from his closeness and the anger his comment raised. Reaching over, I flicked off the seat heater, which I never did unless it was over a hundred outside.
“Yeah, buddy,” Peters chimed in. “Why not?” An undercurrent of humor laced his words.
“Am I missing something?” I asked, glancing between the two men.
“Do both of you fail to remember that the last woman who worked to catch this fucker went missing? Is still fucking missing?” Mathews hissed. “Since I’m the damn security around here, I won’t take any unnecessary risks. This is a hard no for me.”
His tone, completely void of emotion, and aversion to me working with them sank me lower in my seat. Disappointment swirled in my chest until it ached. I’d begun to think he felt the same undeniable pull between us.
Apparently not.
My cheeks burned as I shifted to stare out the windshield, hiding my embarrassment.
I was a stupid woman, inept at all things men.
Of course I read the signs wrong. He didn’t want me.
Who would?
“If security is your concern, I can take care of myself,” I said, attempting to hide my hurt and mirror his monotone.
“Really? She was an agent, had more training than you.”
I huffed in annoyance and shook my head while tapping the passenger window with my short nail. “Turn at the next right. Anyway, you underestimate me, Sergeant Mathews. We go through the same training as any officer of the law. Plus I’m a black belt, and I have Benny here to watch out for me, since you seem to be concerned about the additional workload.”
Only the tick of the SUV’s blinker sounded as the two men sat silenced. The tension growing taut with each rhythmic click.
Crap. That was too pushy. Was that too pushy? Maybe, but he needs to know I’m an asset to this investigation, not additional work for him.
“You have my vote,” Peters said as he navigated the SUV through the narrow streets. “And mine is the one that matters, so welcome to the team.”
A grumble of discontent rumbled in the back seat.
The corners of my lips turned up.
Take that, asshat.
Birdie, one.
Sergeant Mathews, zero.
The hollow thump of my hiking boots against the aging, wooden porch steps followed theirs as Benny and I trailed the two men into their rental cabin. Somehow, inside was ten degrees colder than outside. Running my hands up and down my arms, I surveyed the front room. It was similar to mine, with a small kitchen equipped with the basics, which opened into an eating area and living room. The only difference was the two bedrooms where mine only had the one.
Both men disappeared into their respective rooms, followed shortly by the banging of bags being dropped.
The tips of my fingers tingled as they numbed in the frigid cabin.
Right. Might as well make myself useful. Surely they were cold too.
The precut logs I found on the porch were thankfully dry, protected from the light wintry mix by the overhang, and old, which was perfect for a fire. After grabbing a few, plus some tinder, I hauled everything into the living room and kneeled in front of the fireplace.
Too engrossed in the construction of a perfect teepee that would catch quickly, I failed to hear approaching footsteps.
“What are you doing?”
I sucked in a quick breath and shoved off the floor only to slam the crown of my head into the thick wooden mantle.
“Dang it!” I exclaimed, cupping both hands around my head to ward off the impending pain.
Wide, warm hands wrapped around mine, applying more pressure.
Even though the gesture was caring, bile rocketed up anyway, burning my throat. Flinging my hands down to detach the unwelcome touch, I retreated a few steps until my back hit the wall.
“Easy, boy. I didn’t hurt her,” Agent Peters said in a soothing yet frightened tone. “Hey there, Johnson, call off your dog, would you? I’d prefer my balls to stay attached to my body if you don’t mind.”
A few slow blinks cleared the moisture building in my eyes, blurring my vision, and I gasped. Benny stood between us, the dark hair along his back standing on end as he prowled closer to Agent Peters, teeth bared as he growled.
“Ruhe,” I commanded to prevent Benny from attacking, pulling him to an abrupt halt. Adrenaline pumping, I slumped against the wall. With one more ‘I’ll eat you’ glare at Agent Peters, Benny nudged his cold, wet nose against my leg, tucking his head beneath my waiting hand.
Thirty seconds maybe? That whole scene escalated quickly.
“The jugular,” I stated as I held the aching lump forming on my head.
“What?” Agent Peters said, now several steps away.
“He’s trained to go for the jugular, not your… guy stuff.”
“I’d like to keep that part of my anatomy too. I hear it’s kind of important for survival,” he tried to joke.
I huffed a small laugh, more to ease the tense air between us than anything else. “Sorry. As you can see, I startle easy. Normally I don’t let people get that close.”
Agent Peters nodded as if he understood. “You feel comfortable around us, as you should. Even the mute in the other room is one of the good guys, though he doesn’t act like it.”
The way he seemed to read my thoughts and put me at ease set off alarms. Still rubbing my head to ease the throb, I watched him watching me. “What division of the FBI are you in again?”
He smirked like a cat playing with a mouse. “As I said earlier in your boss’s office, you’re very perceptive. I’m in the Special Sciences division.”
“As in….”
“I help form profiles to assist teams around the US in finding and apprehending the mark, like our serial killer. If we learn his habits, how and why he targets these women, what his signature is, then we can stop him from taking another woman. Unlike in the old days when the police could only hope for a strong tip or the person to mess up.”
I swallowed against a dry throat. “That’s cool.” But it wasn’t. I didn’t need or want a guy with his training around, one who would dig in my head.
Sergeant Mathews stepped into the living room, making me forget about my throbbing head. Donning a black North Face jacket and gray beanie, all he needed was a Harley outside to complete the hot-as-heck bad boy display of everything masculine. Without a word, he raised a dark brow as he glanced between Agent Peters and me.
Again I cleared my throat, hoping it would prevent my voice from shaking. “Agent Peters was?— “
“Chandler.” Sergeant Mathews jabbed his thumb in the direction of Agent Peters. “And Cas. If you’re working with us, drop the titles, would ya?” He glanced to Chandler. “That damn agent title inflated his already big-ass head.”
“You’re good with words, you know that, Mathews?” Chandler joked as he slapped Cas on the back. “You should cross-stitch that on a pillow or something.”
“Good idea. Then I could fucking smother you with it.”
From my spot against wall, I lifted my hand and waited for them to notice. Both men smirked at my raised palm. “Are y'all partners or something?” I asked.
Chandler wrapped an arm around Cas’s shoulders and tugged him close for a tight side hug. “For this assignment, yeah, you can call us partners. But we’ve known each other for a while. We served a deployment or two together.”
Cas shrugged out of Chandler’s hold, keeping his eyes locked with mine. “Your command earlier, was that in German?”
My eyes widened. I didn’t realize he’d heard all that. “How did you?—”
“A guy in my unit had a bomb dog.”
Chandler and I stayed silent, waiting for more of his story.
“And?” I finally urged, making the right corner of lip twitch upward.
“He commanded his dog in German too. Said a lot of military dogs were trained that way.”
I shifted to gaze down at Benny, who was still nuzzled tight against my leg. We were perfect for each other. Two troubled souls looking for a way to get through the rest of our lives without additional pain or fear. I ran a hand over his head and scratched behind his ears. I loved him, and he loved me.
“Where’d ya get him?” Cas asked.
Benny’s coarse coat tickled my palm. “A friend of a friend. Benny was in the military too, but—” With both hands, I covered Benny’s pointed ears with my palms like makeshift earmuffs. “—his handler died, and they couldn’t place him with anyone else. He was depressed, you know. He lost his best friend. They were about to put him down,” I whispered. “Then someone who knew my situation suggested I meet him. We’ve been together ever since.”
After releasing Benny’s ears, I crouched to scratch his broad chest. A thick, wet tongue swiped up my cheek over and over.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” I said to Benny’s long snout.
Neither man said a word as I lavished Benny with the love I wished someone would give me and I could accept. Then without a word, Cas marched to the door and out of the cabin.
Chandler glared at the door and shook his head. “You ready?” he asked, extending a hand to help me up.
His hot hand wrapped around my freezing one. “Are all guys this hot natured? You and him both, your hands are hot even when it’s freezing. It’s not natural.”
Chandler’s brows rose up his tan forehead, deepening the fine lines etched across it. “Wouldn’t know, don’t hold hands with guys. It sounds like you don’t either, Officer Johnson, if you’re asking me that.” His eyes narrowed. “How is that considering?—”
“Birdie,” I interrupted in an attempt to distract him from his train of thought. No way did I want the work friend of Cas to know I was completely oblivious to everything men. “If I’m calling you both by your first names, then you should call me, Birdie. All my friends do. Well, friend. I mean two friends. Two people call me Birdie. I have two friends.”
Hand still warming mine, he shook it up and down with an amused smirk, which kind of pissed me off and made me smile at the same time. “Nice to meet you, Birdie. Now let’s go catch this SOB before anyone else goes missing.”
I trailed behind Chandler through the cabin and down the porch steps.
“What situation?” Cas asked, making me pause. He leaned against a porch post, cigarette pressed between two fingers.
“Will you at least put an ashtray out here or something?” I shoved both hands into the pockets of my coat and shifted my weight. “And you know they say that stuff will kill you.”
“They said the same thing about the marines.”
“But you took that risk to serve your country. What’s this risk worth?” I asked, nodding toward his cancer stick.
“My sanity.”
“You sure you haven’t already lost it?”
A rusty chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Are you going to answer me or bust my balls on my life choices?”
My growing smile fell. “Let's just say we were mourning someone we lost.” I inclined my head toward the now-running SUV, Chandler smiling behind the wheel. “We’re ready when you are.”