Chapter 32 Lawson
LAWSON
I woke surrounded by scent. Smells that pulled me in and under and merged with the heat wrapped up in it. My dick pulsed, wanting to get closer. Something pressed against me. No, someone.
A little moan sounded, and my eyes flew open.
Hell.
Hallie’s pale blond hair teased my bare chest as my cock nestled between her ass cheeks. She let out another little mewl.
Yup, hell was exactly where I was going.
I forced myself to roll to my back.
“Hmm?” Hallie mumbled, slowly waking.
She shot up at the unfamiliar surroundings, sending the covers flying. Her hair was a wild mane around her, and her nipples poked out through the thin cotton of her pajama top.
My dick practically wept at the sight of her.
“Morning,” I said, my voice beyond raspy.
“M-morning. Did you, um, sleep okay?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Better than I have in years.”
Her expression softened. “Me, too. No nightmares.”
Perverse pleasure swept through me at those words. That I could be the one to keep her nightmares away. I lifted a hand, my thumb ghosting across her bottom lip. “Good.”
Her lips parted on an audible inhale.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I snatched my hand back and hurried out of bed. “I’m going to take a shower. A very cold one.”
“Why would you take a cold—?”
Her words trailed off as I turned around. The tent in the front of my pajama pants was more than obvious.
Her cheeks turned the prettiest shade of pink. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Ice baths from now on,” I grumbled, heading for the bathroom. But Hallie’s giggle followed me all the way.
Nash studied me as he handed me a coffee. “You look surprisingly good.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said, accepting the mug.
Nash wasn’t bothered by my response and settled on the couch in my office. “Hey, it’s an improvement from zombie Law. That’s all I’m saying. I just expected it to be a rough night’s sleep last night.”
I shifted in my chair. “Well, it wasn’t.”
Nash was quiet for a moment and then jerked upright. “You slept with Hallie!”
“Would you shut up?” I barked.
My office door was closed, but the walls weren’t exactly thick.
“You did.”
“No, we slept together,” I corrected.
Nash’s brow furrowed. “Dude, are you having a stroke?”
I sighed, setting down my coffee. “She slept in my room, but nothing happened.” Unless you counted a raging case of blue balls.
He winced. “Rough.”
“It was nice, actually. I slept better than I have in a long time. I feel like I can think today.”
“And Hallie?” Nash pressed.
“Said she didn’t have any nightmares.”
A shadow passed over Nash’s face. He knew what it was to love a woman with demons in her past. “If it helps, gotta keep sleeping with her.”
I shifted again. The truth was, I didn’t think I could sleep without her now. It felt too good to slip under while wrapped around her body. But I wasn’t about to tell Nash that.
“You hear anything from the lawyer?” I asked.
He nodded. “Got an email from him. We should be able to ask some questions tomorrow. Not that I think he’ll let his client answer them.”
That muscle beneath my eyelid fluttered.
“You find anything yet?” Nash asked, gesturing to the map in front of me.
“Maybe.”
He stood, crossing to my desk. “Walk me through it.”
“No other bodies, but three women who fit the profile have gone missing in neighboring counties in the past nine months. Ages twenty to twenty-five, petite, blond hair.”
Nash’s gaze met mine. “Vics that have the same physical profile as the ones all those years ago. Women who look like Hallie.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. I’d already asked Holt to make an excuse to be at the house today so Hallie wouldn’t be alone. He planned to help her clear out the barn for Drew’s birthday. But I could only pull that kind of thing for so long before she caught on.
“We’ve got a redhead in the victim mix now, though,” I argued.
Nash nodded. “Could’ve been she discovered him doing something illegal. Could’ve been he was in a rage and couldn’t wait for a vic that fit his type.”
That last statement hit as the truth. The uncontrolled stab wounds, the lack of nightgown and flowers. My back teeth ground together.
“Your gut’s saying it’s all connected, isn’t it?” Nash pressed.
Hell. “It is.”
Nash pinned me with a stare. “I trust your gut over a signed confession any day. We follow that lead. You talk to Anson?”
I grimaced. An old friend I’d met at a law enforcement conference, Anson had once been one of the Behavioral Analysis Unit’s best and brightest agents. But when a case took the worst of turns, he’d walked away from the FBI.
“Left him a message on my way home last night. He hasn’t called back.”
Nash sighed. “You’re going to have to keep trying him.”
“I know,” I grumbled.
The truth was, I’d been worried about my friend. Giving up a life he loved in DC to work construction in a tiny town in Central Oregon didn’t seem like him. And the fact that he’d been dodging my phone calls for the past year didn’t help.
“Want me to pull the three missings’ case files and go over them?” Nash asked.
“That’d be great. Let’s see if there are any other similarities.”
Nash jerked his head in a nod and moved to the door. “Call Anson.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Nash shut the door behind him, and I stared at my cell phone. Muttering a curse, I picked it up. I hit Anson’s contact and waited.
It rang and rang before one of those automated voicemails picked up that only read the phone number. I ended the call and tapped his contact again. This time, he picked up on the third ring.
“What?” he clipped.
“Well, it’s good to hear your voice, too.”
“I don’t have time for tea and chitchat, Law. Heading to a jobsite.”
I leaned back in my chair. “How’s the building business treating you?”
“Fine.”
“Please, don’t talk my ear off.”
“What do you want?” he grumbled.
“Maybe just to see how my friend who dropped off the face of the Earth is doing.”
Anson was quiet for a moment. “It’s more than that. You wouldn’t call three times in less than twelve hours for a check-in.”
I blew out a breath. Of course, he’d know that. Because Anson knew behavior and motivation better than anyone. “Need your help.”
“You need someone to take on a reno for you, we can talk. Anything else, no dice.”
“An—”
“No, Law. I’m done. You know why.”
I did. And it killed me that a monster had destroyed my friend, taken away everything he cared about.
“It’s a bad one. That serial from five years ago. Might be back—”
“Don’t give a flying fuck. I don’t want to know a damned thing about whatever sick-ass killer you’re trying to find. Don’t call me about it again, or I’ll block your number.”
The line went dead.
“Well, that went well.”
Just as I was about to set my cell down, it rang in my hand. The high school’s number flashed on my screen, and my gut tightened. I hit accept.
“Hartley.”
“Hey, Law. It’s Debbie at the high school.”
The school secretary had been there since I was a student, and I still had no idea how old she actually was.
“Hi, Debbie. Everything okay?”
“No one’s dying, but I’m afraid your boy’s in with Principal Meader. Got into a physical altercation with some other boys. Principal Meader would like you to come down to discuss a few things.”
That muscle beneath my eye fluttered again. “I’ll be right there.”