Chapter 15
“So, there’s been no further contact since the letter?” Griffin asked. It had been a few days since Taron received The Wolf’s newest message. Like its predecessors, the note was lyrical yet pointless until they read the darker traced words.
“Nothing,” Bel said. The sheriff had called a meeting in his office to catch everyone up on the different aspects of the case, and Bel and Olivia currently sat on opposite sides of the couch as they briefed their boss, the divide ripping Bel’s heart in half.
“The letter’s secret didn’t divulge much, either,” she continued. “Just, ‘I’m glad you found a friend as passionate as you are.’ We assume he means me, but that’s not exactly damning evidence since she posted that on social media. But the letter had no return address or postage, so he physically dropped it off.”
“Could someone have delivered it for The Wolf?” Griffin asked.
“Maybe, but I doubt it,” Bel said. “Taron says his letters often illustrate how close he gets. He likes being near her. I don’t think hehas access tothe sets, but he’s in town. He delivered the letter.”
“Security cameras?” he asked.
“I checked theinn’s. Nothing incriminating. He either waited until a car blockedthe mailbox from view, or he employed a similar diversion to the killer when he left the box at the station.”
“Storm the front desk with fans,” Griffin said.
“There was no DNA on the letter,” Bel continued. “The envelope was a peel and seal, and even though it was handwritten, there were no prints. Techs are running a handwriting analysis, but without something to compare it to, we won’t get an ID.”
The sheriff cursed. “So, we have nothing.”
“So far? No. But the killer attacked Rossa and Roja at night,” she continued. “Miss Monroe hasn’t left the bed-and-breakfast after work since she visited me, so we need to change tactics. We need to bait him at night.”
“That’s out of the question.”
“But—”
“I said no, Emerson. I’m not letting you or Miss Monroe die on my watch. Having you shadow her on set is one thing. Feeding you to the wolves will never happen.”
“But we’re getting nowhere,” Bel said. “Thankfully, we’ve had no more deaths, but we’re at a standstill.”
“Maybe not,” Olivia interrupted for the first time since she’d entered the office. “Lina called. She ran tests on the fur found during Ellery Roja’s autopsy. It was canine.”
“Canine?” Griffin repeated. “So we’re looking for someone with a dog.”
“Probably not,” Bel said. “The bodies were clean.Noprints, no defensive wounds,notrace evidence. The killer leftnothing butblood, the red cloak, and those little boxes, yet suddenly there’s dog fur present? The Wolf,” she said, and the office fell quiet as the realization sank in. “It was The Wolf. I think he’s telling us he’s responsible.”
“No new letter. No new murders. Do you think The Wolf’s gone?” Taron asked as she mimicked how Bel drew her weapon. “Or are there too many cops on set?”
“He’s still here,” Bel said. The case had grown cold over the past few days, and The Wolf had returned to his silence. “The murders were leading to something. He isn’t done. He just hasn’t found a way to reach you yet.”
“Because I don’t leave the bed-and-breakfast?” Taron asked, making a big show of practicing her gun draw before they started shooting the next scene. “Gwen and Ellery died because they were alone in the middle of the night. We should try walking around in the dark.”
“Trust me, I presented that idea already, but my boss shot it down,” Bel laughed.
“Oh well. I just feel useless. We’re doing all of this for nothing.”
“You’re still alive. I wouldn’t call that nothing.”
“True. I just meant—” Taron screamed as Officer Rollo appeared out of nowhere and yanked her violently against his chest. She beat against him, her fists pounding his torso as she fought to free herself, and Bel’s fingers instinctively twitched closer to her sidearm when an earsplitting crash shattered the silence.
“Oh my god!” Bel leaped backward as a light crashed to the ground right where Taron had been standing. If Rollo hadn’t pulled her out of the way…
“Are you okay?” Bel sidestepped the debris as the entire cast and crew turned their alarm towards the trio.
“Yeah,” Taron’s voice shook as she clung to the handsome deputy. “That light almost killed me. You saved my life.” She flung her arms around Rollo’s neck.
“Just doing my job, ma’am,” Rollo said as he peered at Bel over the top of the actress’ head. Bel noddedherthanks, and the man shrugged as if he hadn’t heroically rescued THE Taron Monroe from being crushed to death.
“It’s him,” Taron sobbed as she released the officer to grab Bel’s hands. “It was The Wolf.”
“The Wolf?” Bel scanned the set for Eamon, but she couldn’t find him. Thank goodness Rollo had been close instead. “But how did he sneak ontosetand tamper with the lights without anyone noticing?”
“It was him,” Taron insisted. “He tried to kill me.”
“With a light?” Bel asked. “I doubt it.”
“He can’t kill me like Gwen and Ellery because I never leave the bed-and-breakfast, so he did this.” Taron gestured to where Rollo was helping clean up the crash. He was certainly the man of the hour. He’d saved the actress and was knowledgeable enough to handle the set lights. And he was gorgeous. Bel needed to steer Taron away from him before she started trying to date Violet’s man.
“This was just a careless accident,” Bel said, Orion Chayce suddenly popping into her mind. His mishap landed him in prison, and while he might not be the guilty party, the only people who could’ve killed that technician were crew members. Similarly, if this falling light wasn’t an accident, the only way The Wolf could’ve gained access to it was if he belonged on set.
“Oh my god, my dear!” The director Warren Rouge rushed for Taron, ushering everyone to the far wall while the crew handled the mess, and the lighting technicians banished the helpful Rollo back to his guard post.Seemedthey didn’t want to accept responsibility for any more accidents his lack of expertise might causedespite the fact thatheapparentlyknew what he was doing. He obliged the techs, though, and with a nod at Bel and another checkup on the actress, he left to resume his post at the outside perimeter. He must havecome insideto use the restroom and noticed the light’s precarious position. Eamon was unexpectedly absent, so without Rollo’s heroics, more than glass would need to be cleaned up. Unless…
Bel backed away from the swarming crowd, a horrifying idea growing roots in her brain.
“What happened?” Eamon’s hand slid against her back, halting her retreat from the swarm around Miss Monroe, and she flinched at his sudden closeness. She hadn’t seen him re-enter the set.
“That falling light almost killed Taron,” she answered, and Eamon cursed low and savage in her ear.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It didn’t fall near me, and Rollo saved her,” she said, that nagging thought worming its way deeper. “Where were you? Did you see anyone tampering with the lights? I didn’t, but I wasn’t paying close attention.”
“I got an urgent call from one of my overseas investors. It was too loudinhere to hear him, so I stepped outside. It’s been a while since I’ve had tohold a conversationin Japanese, so I needed the quiet. I checked the set before I left, though. There were no threats.”
“You speak Japanese?” She squinted at him.
“I speak many languages,” he answered. “And I didn’t see anyone tampering with the lights.I watched the tech setting them up, but he wasjustdoing his job.Maybe he didn’t secure it properly… What are you thinking?”
“Could Taron be the killer?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s convinced The Wolf broke ontosetand tried to kill her, but what if she asked the technician to loosen the clamp on purpose? Rollo snatched her out of the way, but if she’d known it was coming, she could’ve dodged it herself. Plus, with security this tight, no one’s here that shouldn’t be,” she said. “If the killer’s present, he’s supposed to be here. He’s someone people wouldn’t bat an eye at. Someone women would climb into a car at night with… like a famous actress.”
“And the letters?” Eamon asked.
“She sent them to herself,” Bel said. “If you tell a female cop that a man’s stalking you and the studio executives don’t care, you’ll have said cop eating out of your hand because victims aren’t usually the killers. What if the producers aren’t worried about the letters because they aren’t real? She sends them to herself to throw off suspicionthe same asthe falling light.”
“But why kill those women? And why draw your attention to her stalker if the letters are herowncreations?”
“Not sure. To solidify herself as a victim in our minds? Beau Draven is a flirt, and Taron loves male attention. Maybe Gwen Rossa and Ellery Roja were romantically involved with him, and she grew jealous.”
Eamon cursed, and his grip on her back tightened. “There haven’t been any deaths since you joined Miss Monroe on set. She has access to props and costumes, and you’re right. Luring women into a car at night without force points to someone they weren’t afraid of, and there’s nothing scary about Taron Monroe.”
“She doesn’t seem the type to hunt down and butcher girls in the woods, though.” Bel sagged against his chest.
“She’s an actress,” Eamon said. “A good one, from what I’ve seen. This nice guy act could be just that.”
“It’s just a theory, but are we protecting a murderer?”
“It’s possible,” Eamon said. “There’s someone here who isn’t human.”
“Who? And why didn’t you mention it earlier?” Bel’s eyes flicked around the chaotic room. “It can’t be Taron. She was at my house, and you didn’t scent anything.”
“Because everywhere I turn lately, there’s an unfamiliar scent. When I was outside just now, a girl in her twenties was trying to sneak ontosetfor a photo.She realized I was the alpha of the area when I caught herandgave me this tiny bow before practically breaking into a terrified run.She was merely a lesser witch, but I could only tell because she stood so close, and there was no one else nearby to muddle her scent. Most of the time, though, there are too many people clumped together for me to distinguish. Plus…” he gestured to the actors dressed in full creature makeup. “I can’t tell who any of them are. One of them could be a supernatural playing a supernatural for the irony. The costumes and synthetic makeup distort scents with their chemicals.”
“Maybe you should hang back,” Bel said.
“What? No.” He leaned around her torso until his glare forced her to meet his disapproving gaze.
“Not leave me. Just hang back.” She shoved him, but the wall of muscle didn’t budge. He resisted her strength for a defiant moment beforeshovingforward to kiss her scarred throat. The room was preoccupied with Taron’s brush with death, granting the couple anonymity amidst the crowd.
“Taron was asking about you the other day,” Bel laughed as his lips tickled her skin, and she nudged him with her hip until he stood up. “I thought it was because she genuinely wanted to learn if you were single, but what if she was gauging how closely you’re monitoring me? If you stay out of sight, she might assume she’s free to act. Let’s see if it tempts her to move against me… and if she isn’t The Wolf, the killer might emerge from hiding without you hovering.”
“Your phone.” Eamon slipped it from her back pocket and shoved it into her hand for emphasis. “I can track your location as long as it’s on. Keep this charged and on your person at all times, do you understand? Otherwise, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and taking you home.”
“How barbaric.”
“You didn’t complain the last time I did that,” he said with a dangerous pitch to his deep voice, and Bel elbowed him in the ribs… hard. He didn’t so much as flinch.
“Of course, I’ll leave my phone on,” she said. “If anything happens and you don’t come for me, I’ll make you mortal and kill you myself. I’m not running down snowy mountains alone anymore. Next time that happens, I expect you to toss me over your shoulder and carry me down instead.”
“Don’t say that. You’re never ending up alone on a snowing mountain again.”
“You’re right.” She reached behind her and pinched his thigh before peeling herself off his chest to rejoin Taron. “Because I’ll have my phone on, and you’ll find me.”
“Bel!” Violet called as the detective walked toward her car. “Do you have a second?”
“What’s up?” Bel asked.
“I realize you’re busy with the case, but I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“Sure.”
“Would you get drinks with me and Ethan?”
“Who?”
“Sorry, Rollo,” Violet laughed.
“Oh, right.” Bel fake smacked her forehead. “We all go by our last names so often that I forgot his first.”
“Meanwhile, you all say Rollo, and I’m like who?”
“I’m sure.” Bel winked at her friend.
“Oh, stop.” Violet swatted her biceps. “But seriously, would you and Eamon come for a drink with us?”
“When?”
“Right now.”
“I guess I can ask Eamon.” Bel scanned the cars for her boyfriend. She’d spend the day at war with herself. On the one hand, Taron was the perfect suspect, but on the other, the pretty, slightly clueless, good-natured actress was the furthest thing from a monster. Bel’s brain hurt from the incessant back and forth, and a drink with her friend was exactly the medicine her overthinking needed.
“Thanks… I realize you’re busy.It’s justI like Ethan, and you guys work with him.”
“And you want to know if I approve?” Bel asked.
“Pretty much.”
“I mean, he seems nice at the station.”
“Yeah, but that’s work,” Violet said. “I want to know what you think of him as a man, not a deputy.”
“A very hot man.” Bel winked, and her friend shoved her again.
“Stop that.”
“Hey, you teased me about Eamon. It’s only fair. But yes, I’ll ask him. Nothing’s happening with this case, and it’s stressing me out. I could use a drink.”
“Thank you.” Violet hugged her. “We’re going to walk to the bar. Join us when you find Eamon.”
“Will do.” Bel smiled at her friend’s back. If only Olivia were here to witness her matchmaking paying off.
“There you are.” Eamon stood from where he leaned against his truck when he spotted her. “You ready?”
“Violet invited us to get drinks with her and Rollo,” she said. “She wants our opinion before she agrees to a date with him.”
“Smart girl.” He caught Bel’s waist and yanked her against his chest. “When does she want to go?”
“Now.”
“Oh…” His face fell. “I’d love to double date with your friends, but I’ve spent so much time with you on set that I’m falling behind on my work. I have stuff that has to get done tonight. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’ve gone out of your way for me and this case. We’ll reschedule.”
“Just because I can’t go doesn’t mean you shouldn’t,” he said. “Go get dinner and drinks with your friend and interrogate her potential boyfriend. Cerberus can hang out with me, so don’t worry about him being alone. It’s the perfect night since I’ll be locked in my office for the next few hours.”
“You sure?” Bel wrapped her arms around his neck. “I could use a drink.”
“Yes, have fun. Cerberus will keep me company, and you can crash at my place… since I’ll have your dog.”
“That’s the real reason you always want to hang out with him.” Bel kissed him full on the mouth in a shameless display of public affection. “Forces me to sleep over all the time so that we live together without living together.”
“Alas, I’ve been discovered.” Eamon buried his face in her throat until she laughed at the tickle of his lips against her scars. “The struggles of dating a detective.”
“Okay, okay.” She kissed his temple before shoving him off her. “I won’t be late.”
“Take your time.”
“Fine, I won’t be too late.”
“Better.” Eamon climbed into his truck. “See you later, Detective.”
Bel blew him a kiss as he pulled away, and then, drawing her coat closer around her body, she jogged through the throng to locate her ward. She escorted Taron to the bed-and-breakfast, and when the actress was safe, she rushed through the town to the bar.
“Hey!” Violet waved fromwhere she waswaiting by the entrance. “Thanks for coming. Where’s Eamon?”
“He has to work,” Bel said as she peeled off her coat, noticing that her friend looked suspicious. Maybe Rollo didn’t realize he was about to be interrogated, but then shenoticedblonde hair hiding in the background.
“I’m sorry.” Violet grimaced. “I don’t know what’s bothering you and Olivia, but I work with Ewan, remember? Something is going on between you three, and while I won’t insert myself into a romantic relationship, we’re friends. If I’m here, hopefully, you two can smooth over whatever happened.”
“I doubt it.” Bel glared at her friend. She wasn’t the one unwilling to talk it out. “Was this a trick to get us in the same room? Is Rollo even here?”
“Of course he is,” Violet said. “I like him and want your opinion.I just figuredputting you and Olivia in a neutral setting might help whatever’s bothering you two.”
“Fine.” Bel relented. “I could use a drink, anyway.”
“Thank you.” Violet slipped an arm through hers and escorted her to their booth.
“Detective.” Rollo stood as they approached and shook Bel’s hand. “Nice to see you out of work.”
“Agreed.” She smiled at him and then Olivia, but her partnermerelythrew a questioning glare at Violet.
“Can I get you a drink?” Rollo asked, oblivious to the arguing partners. “I have a beer, but Violet and Olivia have martinis. Would you like one?”
“No….” Bel trailed off. If shewasgoingto survive sitting next to her hostile partner, she’d need something stronger. “Actually, yes, thank you.”
“Sure thing.” Rollo started toward the bar. “Sweet or strong?”
“Dirty,” Bel said.
“Coming right up.”
“Wait.” Bel dug for her wallet. “Let me give you my card.”
“Don’t even think about it. It’s on me.”
“Well, that’s a step in the right direction to impressing me.” Bel winked at Violet. “Do you think his desire to impress could result in a basket of fries or wings?”
“He’s one step ahead of you,” Violet said. “He already ordered appetizers for the table.”
“Even better.” Bel settled into her seat and smiled at her partner. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Olivia said, and out of the corner of her eye, Bel caught Violet giving them an encouraging smile.
“Has anything new come up since I’ve been on set?” Bel pushed.
“No. But I don’t want to discuss the case. I’m so over this show.”
“Right.” Bel glanced at Violet and shrugged. The three of them used to laugh nonstop, their voices tripping over each other as they fought to be heard, but now they felt like strangers.
“One dirty martini for you.” Rollo saved the trio by slipping the drink onto the table. “Wasn’t your boyfriend supposed to come too?”
“He unfortunately has to work,” Bel said.
“What does he do?” he asked. “Doesn’t he own like half of the town?”
“Something in finance, and yes, he does,” she answered. “He works with companies, which is like speaking Greek to me, but whatever he does, he’s good at it.”
“I’ll say. He’d have to be to own the Reale Estate.”
The four dissolved into small talk, the awkwardness growing as the night progressed. Olivia made it extremely clear she wanted nothing to do with Bel, and afterthe initial nerves wore off between Violet and Rollo, the couple’s flirting doubled with every round of drinks. Drinks that Bel shouldn’t indulge in, but did anyway. Between Olivia’s cold shoulder and Violet’s heart-eyes, vodka was her best friend.
“I didn’t know you had a tattoo,” Bel said when the foodwas finally gone. Between the fried carbs and alcohol, the foursome had grown sweaty, and Rollo had shed his flannel to reveal a tee shirt stretched over a sculpted frame.
“Oh, yeah.” He rolled up his sleeve to expose the inked image of a woman reading a book to the child leaning against her. “I got it for my grandmother. She raised me after my parents passed.”
“That’s so sweet,” Bel said, her brain suddenly fuzzy. She should’ve opted for something weaker than vodka because the clear liquid had gone right to her head. “I bet she’s proud of you.”
“I like to think she is.” He released his sleeve as he draped an arm around Violet’s shoulders… which was Bel’s clue to leave. She was drunk… too drunk, and Violet and Rollo were minutes away from forgetting they had an audience.
“It’s getting late.” She stood, her fuzzy brain making her want to trip and giggleat the same time. She thankfully did neither. “I should head home. We have another signing event tomorrow, and I’m meeting Miss Monroe early.”
“No, stay,” Violet crooned.Seemedshe’d drunk a lot as well.
“Would you like me to drive you?” Rollo asked, and despite being drunk, Bel could tell that while her intoxication worried him, he didn’t revel in the idea of leaving just yet.
“That’s sweet, but don’t worry about me.”
“Detective, I don’t…” he paused. “You shouldn’t drive.”
“Good man.” She patted his hand where it rested on Violet’s shoulder. “But I’m not driving.I’ll make Eamonpickme up.”
“Oh okay, great.” He smiled, and Bel knew Violet was in trouble. He was way too gorgeous when he smiled.
“Make sure these lovely ladies get home safe, though,” she said as she hugged Violet goodbye. She leaned for Olivia when she was done, but the stiffness in her partner’s back warned her not to follow through.
“Yes, Detective,” Rollo said.
“Night, guys!” Bel waved at the table as she aimed for the bathroom. She texted Eamon, undoubtedly riddling her message with typos, and then used the restroom.
“Hey!” Violet ambushed her when she emerged, and Bel smirked at her friend. She felt good… for now. When the haze wore off, her head would ache from both dehydration and depression over Olivia, but right now, her mood was blissful.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” Violet said. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“What do you think of Ethan?”
“He paid for dinner and drinks. He wouldn’t let me drive intoxicated, and heclearlyloves his grandmother,” Bel said. “Plus, he’s hot.”
“I know, right?” Violet giggled.
“I say go for it. He has a good job, and he’s well-liked at the station. I don’t see any reason not to give him a chance.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Bel pulled her into a hug. “Love you.”
“Love you too. Get home safe.” Violet returned to her table, and Bel watched with an achein her heartas Olivia aimed for the exit.
“Olivia.” She chased after her and grabbed her arm before she could leave the bar. The vodka’s courage made her do it, and she might as well act while it offered its aid. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I’m sorry. I did what I did for a reason, and I stand by it, but I still love you.”
“Bel…” Olivia trailed off.
“I know, I know.” Bel let go of her. “I love you, that’s all.”
Olivia fled, and the dismissal should’ve wounded Bel, but her brain was too hazy to get the memo.
“Hey, Detective, anyone evertellyou how gorgeous you are?” a male voice growled as a dark truck parked before the front door. “Hurry and get in the car before your boyfriend arrives.”
“I would be careful, sir,” Bel said as she hopped into the passenger seat. “My boyfriend’s the jealous type. He’d kill you if he found out you were hitting on me.”
“Then we can’t let him find out.” Eamon slid a hand behind her neck and pulled her across the center console, kissing her deeply. “How drunk are you?”
“Sober enough to remember I hated that Olivia wouldn’t look at me, but drunk enough to get in a stranger’s car because he’s hot.” She traced her fingers suggestively over his thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“I’m sorry things are rough between you two.” Eamon peeled her hand off his leg and brought it to his mouth. “But this hot guy is glad you got in the truck with him.” He kissed her knuckles.
“Oh yeah?” Bel leaned across the divide and kissed his cheek, sliding her free palm up his thigh.
“I’m driving, Detective,” he laughed. “And the roads are still a mess from the storm.”
“You could drive blindfolded and handcuffed, and still be the safest driver on the road,” she said as she grabbed his jaw and pulled his lips to hers. “Are you telling me that the man who can survive an IED blast can’t steer while kissing?”
“Are you challenging me?” he growled, returning her kiss with more force than she’d expected.
“What’s the fun of dating an ancient immortal if you can’t do this?” Bel undid her seatbelt, her vodka courage inspiring her for the second time that night.
“Isobel,” he warned.
“Eamon,” she moaned, her body suddenly burning with need, and all her insatiable longing craved was him.
“You asked for it.” Eamon jerked the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes. The truck skidded to a halt on the side of the dark and empty road, and without giving her a chance to register their surroundings, he dragged her onto his lap.
Bel gasped as he expertly ripped her clothes free of her body, and she lost all control of her inhibitions. It didn’t matter that anyone could drive by and see. Eamon’s skin against hers was all she cared about. Something about this setting. Aboutthe idea that they might be caught, the reality that they needed each other so desperately that they couldn’t wait to get home drove them to madness, and the windshield fogged as they moaned and gasped and writhed. It was wild and messy, her handprints left all over the windows. It was raw and honest, his handprints left all over her body. It was ravenous and filthy, filled with dirty words spoken in her ear and confessions of devotion whispered against her mouth. The encounter was not a quick affair. It lasted and lasted and lasted until Bel couldn’t breathe, until her muscles grew sore, until even Eamon was out of breath, and then with a roared confession of absolute adoration, they collapsed in the driver’s seat. They remained locked together for so long that she fell asleep atop his chest, and the next thing she knew, it was morning. Eamon had somehow gotten her into bed without waking her, and surprisingly, she didn’t have a hangover. He must have given her something before tucking her in.
“Good morning,” she said as she joined him in his kitchen after she showered.
“Here.” He handed her a cup of coffee fixed exactly how she liked it. Theperks of dating a man who could hear her coming down the stairs. Coffee was waiting the second she set foot on the kitchen tiles.
“Hi, handsome.” Bel stooped and kissed Cerberus,who waschewing on a massive toy in his dog bed beside the stove. “Did you eat?”
“He ate and went for a walk,” Eamon said.
“Wow, busy morning. How long have you been up?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he answered as he popped bread into the toaster.
“I’m sorry.” She sagged against the counter to study his profile. “My behavior last night was… not what you needed. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Upset me?” He squinted at her as if he had no clue what she was talking about.
“You couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I was intense and sloppy after all that vodka, but it wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, Isobel.” Eamon leaned over and kissed her so fiercely that she almost dropped her coffeein favor of repeatinglast night’s excitement on the kitchen table. “I couldn’t sleep because I was wired. You were… amazing.”
“My being drunk and needy didn’t bother you?”
“Detective, if I’m the first thing you want when you’re tipsy, I’m truly a lucky man.” Eamon grabbed her waist and pulled her into his arms. “Inhibitions are lower when humans drink, which often leads to cheating. But you? You got drunk and wanted me… a lot. I was honestly so happy. That’s why I had trouble sleeping. We’ve worked through some difficult conversations these past few weeks, so knowing I’m still your choice when nothing’s holding you back felt amazing.”
“Ireallywanted you, didn’t I?” she laughed into his chest. “I can’t believe we did that on the side of the road. What if someone saw us?”
“We were closer to home than you realized.” Eamon kissed her hair. “The minute your hand grabbed my leg, I knew how the night would end, so I drove fast. I thought we’d make it here first, but we were on the winding road on my estate. Only people driving to my house use it, so no one was there.”
“Oh thank god.” She laughed again. “I wasn’t embarrassed in the least, though. I should’ve been, but I wasn’t.”
“It’s because you trust me enough not to put you in a weird position.”
“What are you talking about? You had me in a lot of weird positions last night?”
“Oh my god.” Eamon playfully spanked her.
“Okay, okay, I’m done.” Bel snagged the toast from the toaster and shoved it into her mouth. “I guess that’s why I was so free last night. I always feel safe and cared for with you. Speaking of taking care of me, why don’t I have a hangover?”
“It’s a little witch’s trick,” Eamon said. “It’sbasicallyAdvil with an extra kick. I made you take one with an entirebottle of waterbefore I put you to bed.”
“Thank you. For all of it. For picking me up, for being happy that my drunk self is obsessed with you,fornot letting me go to today’s signing with a headache. All those screaming fans.” She shuddered. “I would’ve been miserable. I hate that I drank so much, but Olivia’s indifference was depressing. It was like sitting next to a wall of ice.”
“I wish I could fix that for you. You did nothing wrong, but we have a different worldview. Everything blew up for her in a matter of seconds while she was mourning your death. I don’t think she hates you. She’s just hurt and scared.”
“I know, but I’m afraid we’ll never be the friends we were.”
“I’m sure you will.” Eamon put two more slices into the toaster since she’d helped herself to his. “At least I hope you do. I realize it isn’t the same, but even if she doesn’t forgive you, you have me. I’ll always be here for you.”
“I know, and I appreciate it.” She cupped his jaw, wanting to drown in the adoration coloring his death-black eyes. “But sometimes a girl needs her girlfriends. Especially when it concerns romantic advice… but I guess I have my sisters for that.”
“And Violet.”
“And Violet,” she agreed.
“I’m sorry I can’t be that for you, though.”
“Don’t be. I love you, and you truly are my best friend.” Bel seized his fresh toast and shoved it into her mouth, enjoyingthe wayhe frowned at her. She was starving, and around her, the man had a wonderful sense of humor that she enjoyed goading. “We’re going to fight. We’ll get mad and endure painful periods, but I want that. I’m glad we had our first argument. It proves we emerge together. Plus, I love making up.”
“Me too.” Eamon put yet another two pieces of bread into his toaster. “But can I please get some of this breakfast, or were you looking to have our second fight be over toast?”
“Hmmm, you can eat.” Bel raised onto her toes and kissed him, her heart light and her smile wide. They were happy. They were the couple who would make it until death parted them. “But only because I’m late and don’t have time to argue about bread.” She took off running, coffee clutched in her fist as she climbed the stairs. Romantic bliss had to wait. She needed to arrive at the hotel for the signing long before the fans started crowding Miss Monroe, and today was the day they’d put her plan to the test. Eamon had promised to hang back in the hopes it would prove Taron was the killer.
Bel’s romantic bliss was long goneby the timetheir lunch break arrived. The screaming fans, the crying women, the demanding ticket holders, the constant noise, the constant barrage of people hovering and shoving and complaining had her ready to lock herself in her cabin and never emerge. She’d lost count of how many times a fan had plowed into her to get to Taron, and Bel was thankful she’d asked Eamon to hang back. He was tracking her via her phone, so he hadn’t witnessed the horde trample her. One man had bumped into her so hard that she’d smacked the table and could already feel the bruise blooming on her hip. The discoloration would anger Eamon enough when he saw it later. It was better that his anger didn’t rear its head in the middle of this sardine-packed conference room.
Some fans were sweet. Some even asked if they could photograph her. They’d figured out she was the female detective Taron mentioned on social media, but Bel politely declined. She wasn’t stupid, though. She realized people had snapped photos of her from a distance, but one of Eamon’s contacts owed him a favor. A quick call, and he employed an algorithm to blur her face from any image that found its way onto the internet.
“I’ll be right back.” Taron stood abruptly, yanking Bel out of her thoughts. “Bathroom.” She pointed to the exit to her left.
“Want me to come with you?” The bathroom down that hall was reserved for the cast and crew, but off-limits meant nothing to obsessed fans.
“I’ll be fine,” Taron said. “I just have to peequickbefore we leave for lunch, so stay here and watch my seat.”
“Okay.” Bel nodded, understanding the woman’s need for solitude after their morning. “I’ll give you five minutes before I come looking for you.” She was half joking, but Taron flashed her a pale-faced expression before fleeing the conference room. With pinched eyebrows, Bel traced her movements until she disappeared down the private hallway. What was so unsavory about her comment? She’d be a lousy bodyguard if she let the actress disappear withoutso much asknocking on the bathroom door to check on her.
Bel planted her hands on the table and collapsed forward, not caring if the stragglers witnessed her exhaustion. Her feet ached, her back ached, her neck ached, and she wondered if Taron would mind if she snagged a few minutes of rest in her chair. She’d asked her to watch her seat. What better way to guard it than sit in it?
“Watch my seat,” Bel whispered, suddenly registering Miss Monroe’s odd request. Why did she ask her to babysit her chair? Had a fan ducked under the tablecloth to hide? Bel leaned down, readying to rip the cloth aside and catch the perpetrator red-handed when she spotted it. A simple piece of paper sat folded on the chair’s cushion, and she understood. Taron didn’t want her to guard her seat. She wanted her to look at it.
With an unwelcome bolt of adrenaline coursing through her, Bel snatched up the paper and unfolded it. The note was only two sentences long, but she recognized the handwriting. Fear clogged her throat, but not because she knew who’d penned this. Unlike his letters, thishadn’t beenwritten with flowery prose or poetic text. It was straightforward and to the point, its message unmistakably clear.
There’s a bathroom down the hallway to your left. Use its window to climb outside, or I’ll blow up everyone in this hotel.