Dread clicked through me. He wasn’t hungry? Well, it was midnight. “All right.” I shifted it all to the fridge before removing my coat and boots, taking them toward the door. It was late, I was tired, and I couldn’t deal with emotion right now. “Any luck with the case?”
“No,” he said shortly.
I looked at him. Even at my table, he looked dangerous in a ripped T-shirt, worn jeans, and a vibe that was hard to quantify. “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Jareth Davey somehow followed me from here down to Portland. We’ve caught him on different CCTV cameras all the way. That means he was watching us, stalking you, maybe for months.”
“Oh.” My arms chilled, and I rubbed them.
Aiden’s voice roughened. “That means that he’s been watching us, and I had no clue. Not a one. I know when somebody is following me, and I have a sense when something is up with you. Yet I didn’t feel him.” He scrubbed both hands down his face, ending at that shadow on his jaw that had gone way beyond five o’clock. “There’s always something up, and I feel the tension, but I didn’t realize it was Davey. There’s just too much to separate all the crazy.”
I wished he were joking about that, but crazy seemed to follow me. “Your life would be a lot easier with a girlfriend who taught kindergarten or was an accountant or something like that,” I said quietly, my anxiety ratcheting up to the bubbling level.
His grin was quick and unexpected. “Honey, if you were a kindergarten teacher, you’d end up with miniature hitmen throwing homemade clay bombs at me that somehow were poisoned with something I’m allergic to. Or as an accountant, one of your clients would end up working for the mob, and then they’d want to hire you, and I’d have to take them all out.”
“Hey,” I protested. “Besides this last week, I haven’t been shot at for months.” Even as I said the words, I realized the ridiculousness of them.
He sighed.
I tugged on my ear, feeling chilled. “The only constant in the crazy is me.”
“Amen to that.”
I shuffled my feet, scrunching my toes in my thick socks. “What now, Aiden?”
“Now I find him and end him,” Aiden said quietly. “He’s got a plan, he’s probably here, and now I know it.” He reached for a mug and tipped back the contents. “He’s smarter than I thought with trying to get a drug runner to take me out during an op. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“I meant with us,” I said quietly.
He studied me. “I’d like to put you somewhere safe until I handle this, but I know that’s not an option for you. I’ll take a leave of absence if needed to cover you, but right now, I’m working seven cases, and I’d hate to do that to my team.”
My body slowly released the tension, head to toe. So he wasn’t breaking up with me. At least not right now. We needed to have that talk, but it was late, my head now hurt, and I wasn’t up to it. From the look of him, neither was he. “I’ll be careful,” I said. “I’m armed and trained.”
“If you point a gun, you shoot that gun,” he said softly. “Tell me you get me.”
I did. If it came down to it, I could shoot Jareth Davey. “I know.”
“It’s different face to face, Angel.” Tension swelled from him. “You’re tough and sweet, and I need to know in that situation that you can follow through. This is not a guy you show mercy to—it’ll never end. I’ll do my best to make sure I’m between you and him, but in the off chance I’m not, I need to know that you can squeeze the trigger.”
My stomach cramped. “I can, Aiden. I know I can.” I yawned, finally relaxing. “I’m exhausted. Bed?”
He looked down at his files. “You go ahead. I have to get some of this organized before I meet with the team tomorrow. I’ll be in shortly.”
“Okay.” I walked into the bedroom and got ready for bed, sliding beneath the covers and wondering if I should get him something more generic for Christmas than what I’d planned. But what? I heard the fridge open in the kitchen, and I grinned. Not hungry? Right.
I dropped off to sleep faster than I’d expected, feeling him come to bed a couple hours later. Then I slept like the dead with no nightmares, waking up early morning feeling much better. Aiden slept quietly next to me, so I gingerly slid from the bed, hit the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then wandered out to the living room, hoping there was huckleberry pie left.
My tree twinkled merrily at me, and peace filtered through the cottage. I padded to the kitchen and started my one cup coffee maker, turning to pull out the huckleberry pie.
I cut a generous piece, poured my coffee, and looked at the mess on my table. Shrugging, I moved into the living room, placing my plate on the coffee table and sipping my coffee. The warmth poured through me, and I sighed, rolling my neck to loosen the muscles. The snow fell gently outside, peacefully, and I turned to watch it.
Something red caught my eye.
I frowned, setting down my mug. Then I stood and moved toward the curtains, sliding them aside.
The world halted. Sharp and quick. A man knelt in my small front yard, in the freezing snow, with a massive red ribbon on his head. “Aiden!” I screamed.
Aiden came out of the bedroom at a dead run, wearing only his boxers with a gun in his hand. His muscled chest was bare and his thick hair ruffled. “What?”
I pointed outside the window. “There’s a man.” I hustled to the entryway, jumping into my boots.
He reached me, stepped into his boots, and gently pulled me back. “Stay here.” Then he grabbed a coat, slugged into it, zipped it over his naked torso, and opened the door.
I reached for my coat, pulled it shut, and followed him out into the snowy day, keeping to the walkway. The wind and cold pierced the bare skin on my legs, nearly sending me down. “Oh,” I whispered, bile rising in my throat.
“You know him?” Aiden asked.
Numbly, I nodded. “His name is Crackle, and he’s the guy who hit me and came after Violet.”
Crackle knelt in the snow, a bullet hole square in his forehead, his body frozen and icicles coming off his chin. His skin was a bluish-white, already frozen, and his blank eyes stared unseeingly at the heart still painted on the side of my garage. The large red bow flopped on the side of his head, and a matching ribbon wound around his body to be tied in another bow at his waist.
Aiden stepped through the snowy lawn, crouching down and looking over the body. “He’s missing his pinkie finger.”
I gagged and swallowed several times to keep from throwing up. “How is he kneeling so perfectly?”
Aiden prodded Crackle’s shoulder and the body didn’t move. “Best guess? He was killed in this position, and the killer waited for rigor mortis to set in before moving him.”
Crackle still wore the dirty shirt and jeans that I’d seen him in the day he’d hit me. “The killer? It has to be Jareth Davey,” I whispered, my breath creating clouds in the frigid air.
Aiden looked over his shoulder and at my bare legs. “Go inside and call this in. I want to scout the area, even though snow has already covered any tracks that might’ve been left.” He turned and looked toward the tree line and then the road, which hadn’t been plowed yet today.
“You come put on jeans,” I countered. “It’s below freezing out here.” It was probably around ten degrees Fahrenheit, and Aiden could get frostbite easily, even though it looked like furious steam was coming off the guy. When he didn’t move, I shoved my chilled hands into my pockets. “I’m not going inside until you do.”
He moved then, right at me, tossing me over a shoulder and stomping through the snow.
I rolled my eyes, happy he was coming inside. Keeping my view on his butt, I purposefully didn’t look back at the frozen man in the snow. Crackle had been a jerk, but he hadn’t deserved to die like that. He had deserved to be arrested and put in jail, and denying any of his victims that result had taken something away from them.
Had Jareth Davey done this? I’d learned enou
gh during my brief tenure as a lawyer that making assumptions like that was often a mistake. But I couldn’t imagine anybody else who would’ve done it.
We reached the cottage and walked inside, where Aiden flipped me back over and made sure my legs were steady before releasing my arms. “Call it in.” Then he hustled to the bedroom.
My phone was on the counter, and I reached it, calling Pierce directly.
“Detective Pierce,” he answered, a printer humming in the background. Good. He was already at work.
“Hi. It’s Anna.” I reported all details, and he was on the move before I’d finished. “See you soon.”
Aiden emerged fully dressed and headed back out into the lightly falling snow, his gun still in his hand.
I moved into my bedroom and pulled on jeans and a white knit sweater, yanking a Smiley’s Diner ball cap over my head and tucking my hair behind my ears. Then I drew on my jacket and gloves again, walking out into the frigid air as the police began arriving.
Aiden had disappeared into the woods.
Pierce arrived after the first uniformed officers, who were tying off the area with yellow crime-scene tape. “Inside,” he said, gesturing with his notebook.
I turned and went right back inside, wondering if any of the men in my life knew how to ask nicely. I tore off my jacket and gloves, heading into the kitchen to make us both some coffee.
“Tell me what happened,” Pierce said, glancing at the mess on my table and turning to sit on my guest chair by the fireplace. Today he wore a long-sleeved green shirt, black jeans, and black snow boots. He fumbled for a pen in his pocket, drew it out, and clicked the roller free. Then he started making notes before I even began speaking.
“Say please,” I snapped, handing him his mug.
His eyebrows rose. “You’re in a mood.”
“There’s a dead body on my lawn, and none of the people in my life have manners.” I sat on the sofa and drew a leg up beneath me.
He frowned. “Where’s Devlin?”
“Out scouting in the woods for the killer,” I retorted. “The footprints were all gone, so I’m not too worried. But who knows. He might find something.”
Pierce took more notes. “Tell me everything.” Then he looked up at me. “Please.”
There we go. I told him everything, including all about Violet, feeling comforted that she was now safe with my aunt and uncle. When I wound down, Pierce was just staring at me. “What?” I asked.
“How? How do these things always happen to you?” He sounded genuinely curious.
I drank more of my coffee, wishing for my huckleberry pie, but my appetite had disappeared. “I have no idea.”
He tucked his notebook back into his pocket. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into taking a long vacation?”
“Sure, but why? If it’s Jareth Davey, he’s proven he can track fairly well. If it isn’t him, then we have no clue who it is, and the problem will be waiting for me when I get home,” I said reasonably, keeping it together on the outside. On the inside, I could feel the mother of all panic attacks headed my way when I had a chance to breathe.
Pierce pressed his lips together, looking like an irritated surfer. “I’d suggest you find another line of work, but frankly, you’d just find more interesting ways to court trouble.”
That was almost exactly what Aiden had said the night before. I glared at Pierce. “None of this is my fault.” I’d been reasonable and safe for as long as I could remember.
“I know,” Pierce said. “Stay here.” He shook his head. “Tell me Devlin is planning on staying in town for a while, at least until we catch this guy.”
“You can count on it,” Aiden said, walking through the front door and brushing snow off his thick hair.
Chapter 31
I dropped Tessa’s car off outside Smiley’s Diner and then got into Bud’s cop car, wanting to somehow reassure him that I wouldn’t get him shot this time. Today he was even more silent than usual after having seen the dead body on my lawn. “So, I think I’ll wrap up the cases I can, give the rest to Clark, and maybe take a week or so off,” I said. “For the holidays, you know?”
Bud grunted.
I held my hands out to the heater. Even though I was wearing gloves, my fingers hadn’t warmed up after my early trek outside that morning. “Thank you for covering me again.”
He drove around my building to park in the back alley where I usually parked. “You’re good job security for me.” He stopped the engine.
I looked at him. “Did you just make a joke? Like a real joke?”
He rolled his eyes and opened his door. “The holidays bring out my fanciful side.”
I opened my door and stepped out, slashed immediately by the maniacal wind. His fanciful side? “All right,” I said doubtfully. “How’s it going with the wife?” I stepped over a chunk of ice toward the private rear door to the two-story building.
“Not sure.” Bud fell into step beside me, his solid bulk breaking some of the wind.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No,” he said.
I slipped on the ice, and he grasped my arm, helping me to regain my balance. “Okay.”
He released me. “Did you find a present for Devlin?”
“Maybe.” I wasn’t ready to share that yet, angling around the green dumpster toward the door.
A scratching sound caught my attention, and then electric leads shot out, attaching to Bud’s chest. Electricity zipped, and he gasped, tasered.
“Bud,” I cried out, trying to swat the leads off him.
He went down to the ice-covered ground, convulsing wildly.
A man grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the building, shoving me face first against the bricks. I kicked back, struggling, panicking. The barrel of a gun pressed against my temple, and I subsided.
Was it Jareth Davey? Terror rippled through me. The gun was cold and heavy against my skin. I gulped in air, trying to breathe.
“Drop Bernie McLintock as your client,” the man hissed in my ear, his voice muffled by something and sounding tinny and fake. An odd smell came from him, but I couldn’t identify it. What was that? Something sweet with a hint of…mint?
I blinked, trying to make sense of the words. Drool popped on my lip. “Huh?”
“Do it, or I shoot next time,” the guy growled, feeling solid behind me. “Count to twenty and don’t turn around, or I’ll shoot your friend.”
Then the gun was gone.
No way was I counting to twenty. I gasped and tried to catch my breath, pushing against the wall to turn myself around. Then I ducked to grab Bud and pull him around the dumpster and out of any possible line of fire.
He shook violently but still managed to plant both hands on the ice and shove himself to a seated position. “Call…it…in…” he gasped.
I looked down the alleyway to see our assailant rush around the building next door. Gasping for breath, I fumbled in my purse for my gun, which I placed next to my knee. Then I found my phone, where I dialed the police, giving the ‘officer down’ statement I’d heard on television so many times. I grasped Bud’s arm. “You okay?”
“No,” he snapped, rolling his neck. He pushed to stand and I did the same, levering a shoulder beneath his arm to help him.
We swayed in place, and then he started moving us both toward the door. I ducked and clasped my gun, falling into step with him, breathing out in relief when we got inside. Warmth hit us. “Sit down,” I said, nudging him onto the back stairs for the building. “Take deep breaths.”
“I’m fine.” Even so, he sat. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear that guy.”
Cops poured through the back door and down the hallway from the front door, all angry and on high alert. Bud turned a deep red color and shook off concern.
Pierce jogged inside, took a look at him, and then visibly relaxed. “You need to go get checked out.”
Bud stood and shook his head. “I’ve been tasered before and am fine. Didn’t see
much. Guy was in a thick parka with a full face mask that covered his entire head beneath another knit blue cap. He was about six feet tall, eyes were maybe brown? He also wore ski pants, thick ones, so I can’t give you an accurate body type, weight, or even age.”
Pierce looked at me. “You?”
“I just saw the heavy parka, smelled something minty, and heard his voice.” I related what the attacker had said, my mind sluggish now that the adrenaline had escaped my system. “He was muffled behind the mask, and I think he wore some sort of voice distorter over his mouth. He sounded robotic.”
Pierce frowned. “He told you to drop Bernie?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” Were all the odd happenings lately because of the Santa case? It didn’t make sense. Right now, nothing made sense.
“We’re hauling McLintock in again,” Pierce said. “Bud, you go to the hospital and don’t argue with me because it’s department policy. Albertini, you might as well come with me since I’m bringing in your client. That way, at least you’re covered until Bud gets the okay from the doctor.”
I looked at the wounded officer. “Bud needs the rest of the day off.”
“No,” Bud said, a healthy color coming back into his face. “I’ll get the doc’s okay and then will be back to cover Anna.”
My heart warmed. “That’s nice of you, Bud.”
His dark gaze met mine. “I wouldn’t wish you on any of my brothers.” Then he hobbled toward the door.
Pierce argued, but I made him stop at Duke’s Jewelry, right next to my building, before he drove me to the police station. Christmas was coming up fast, and while my life was a disaster, it helped to fixate on something positive, although I wasn’t completely sure about Aiden’s present yet. I’d just get Duke to do what I wanted, and then I’d figure out whether or not I should give the gift to Aiden.
Soon I sat in the interrogation room when Pierce brought in Bernie McLintock, who was in full Santa uniform, complete with candy canes sticking out of his pocket. Bernie’s faded eyes were concerned, and he patted my hand when he sat next to me. “I heard through the grapevine what happened, and I’m so sorry. I just don’t understand it.”
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