Maggie nodded. She knew how this went. Different officers would have different priorities with the investigation—which was good, it got things covered—but it was a pain in the ass for witnesses. They also asked the same questions repeatedly, on purpose. It was a way to check for errors in the story, or things a witness might not remember clearly. Those things could change over time and with retellings.
Maggie took a sip of the coffee again and instantly regretted it. Now that it was getting cold, it was beyond terrible.
The officer went through the general information first. “What did the perpetrator look like?”
But neither of them could go beyond a general description of a person in shadow. Maggie couldn't even say for sure if it was a man or a woman. She was confident it was a man, and Sebastian believed that, too, but when she was asked why, she couldn’t put her finger on anything.
Previously, they'd been asked about what they saw—about the things that could be used as eyewitness evidence in court. But this time, the officer took a different tack. “Do you have any idea why he might have come back?”
Maggie shrugged, but Sebastian offered, “The FBI was here just a handful of days ago. They obviously carted evidence out of the house, so I have no idea why anyone would have come back at all.”
But Maggie thought maybe that was the issue. “Unless he didn't know that we found the jewelry at the back of the closet.”
Looking up at Sebastian, she caught his understanding nod. She wound up explaining to the officer who didn't seem to know about that particular find.
Interesting.
She would have thought the information of the closet stash would blaze through the station like wildfire. Maybe the FBI was trying to keep it secret, but she'd had an intruder in her home. If they couldn’t keep her home safe, then she didn’t care about their evidence.
She was going to give the police all of the information they asked for. “If they saw the FBI carting out documents and things, they might even think the jewelry was still under the floorboard. I don't know who has or hasn't heard about that …” Maggie looked to Sebastian then to the officer.
Sebastian added, “Most of the firefighters at the station know about it. Maggie brought it to us before we realized what it was. And in fact, it was a group of us that figured out that we needed to hand it into the police.”
The officer nodded, not offering information on whether this was news to him or not. His hands gripped the sides of his tablet and he focused on tapping out notes with his thumbs.
Maggie next explained about the stash at the back of the closet. “Both of these things were found in room five. The floorboard is still loose. The board in the back of the closet is still loose, but we closed all the doors before we went to bed …” and there she’d done it. She’d just said “we went to bed.” So that would be everywhere by morning. She tried to stay focused on the information. “If your people are in there now, and the door to five is open, and especially if that closet door is open, that would give you an idea what he was probably looking for.”
They went on to explain again how they had changed the locks that evening. That they didn't know about the cellar access in the laundry room.
The officer raised an eyebrow.
“I inherited this home several months ago,” Maggie told him, as if to defend herself. “I visited my aunt here during the summers as a child, and I cannot remember a time when that wasn't the laundry room, or when that old carpet wasn't there. If you look at the number of rooms this house has, you can understand why I would miss something like that.”
Sebastian's arm came out around her shoulder and crinkled the foil as he pulled her close. No one liked being questioned. Maggie knew better than to get irritated. But she was.
“When will we be able to get back in the house?” Sebastian asked. And for the first time Maggie realized that if the officers looked upstairs, the bed she and Sebastian had been sharing would likely reveal what they’d been doing when they first heard the noise—and maybe why they hadn’t caught on that someone was in the house sooner. She’d managed to skirt around it when questioned, but her clenched handprints were probably still pressed into the comforter.
Lovely.
“I don't know,” the officer replied, tucking the tablet under his arm.
Sebastian was growing irritated now, too. “We're standing outside in our pajamas. We need to have access to our clothing. And we need to know when we'll be able to get back into the home.”
He didn't demand that the officer produce the information, but he stated it in such a way that he brooked no opposition. Sure enough, the officer came back just a few minutes later and offered to lead them upstairs so they could change.
When the two of them met in the hallway again, the officer was still standing there. Probably to make sure they didn’t mess with any evidence, either on purpose or by accident.
No privacy for a quick kiss, Maggie thought, but Sebastian had no such concerns. He reached out and took her hand and told the officer “You have my phone number. I'm taking Maggie out for breakfast.”
The relief that flooded her was welcome. She hadn’t even realized the amount of stress she was carrying, so she told the officer, “You all are welcome to check the house in any way you need while we're gone. Please collect any evidence that helps. If you remove anything from the property, I’ll be needing an itemized list.”
Damn if she hadn't had to say that more than once recently.
They were heading out the front door, discussing whether to take Maggie's car or Sebastian's bike. It wasn’t as if every neighbor hadn’t already been awakened but revving the bike down the street at an ungodly hour would not make her a beloved neighbor.
They were opening the doors to her car, when Marina came out the front door excitedly looking for them. Maggie waited while the officer came in close and spoke in a low tone. “I figured you would want to know. We already pulled prints from the back knob, scanned them and sent them in. This is not by any means a real confirmation, but the tech on duty tonight owes me a favor.”
Maggie was confused. They could find something that fast?
Marina continued. “It’s just a preliminary visual scan—not official—but AFIS already matched the prints to those found at the scene of several attacks of the La Vista Rapist.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Maggie was about to pass out into a serious carb coma by the time Sebastian opened the door to his apartment for her.
The sky was only just starting to lighten, but he’d taken her to a twenty-four hour diner and fed her pancakes and bacon and hash browns. It was exactly what she’d needed. And what she needed now was sleep.
Though her brain was wondering what the police were doing at her home—and whether or not the FBI had arrived—her eyes popped wide as she entered from the landing into the living room. “Holy shit. This is …”
She could hear the grin in his voice. “It’s what?”
“I don’t know. Gorgeous?” It was masculine but really inviting and it … “It looks so comfortable. I’ll just curl up on the couch, okay?”
The couch looked fluffy and soft, like it would hug her if she just rolled right into it. There was a matching throw tossed over one end. It looked casual but there was no way the colors all coordinated like that without some effort.
He was laughing full-out now. “I told you, my mother is an interior designer. I told her I’d take care of it myself …”
“You did all this?” Maggie was in awe. He’d been more than helpful and offered a great eye for her work, but this was …
He laughed again. “No. I told her I’d do it, but she showed up and helped.”
“Well, it’s amazing.” She’d not expected a man who spent his days in dull yellow gear and red trucks to have a home that felt so soothing and welcoming. Still, she was exhausted.
“Come on.” He didn’t touch her but led her down the hall and opened a door. “This is my room. You can h
ave it for yourself or …”
“Oh, I wouldn’t kick you out of your own bed …” but she wanted to share it with him.
Taking her hand, he pulled her into the room and flipped the covers back. “Crawl in.”
Maggie kicked off her shoes and peeled her jeans and didn’t have the energy for anything more. Sebastian disappeared into the attached bathroom for a moment and she was almost asleep when he turned up at the foot of the bed wearing another pair of plaid pajama pants. “Mind if I join you?”
She held out her hand to him and by the time she was settled in the crook of his arm, she was mostly asleep.
It must have been hours later that she drifted slowly awake. It was light outside, but the blackout curtains made the room feel like night should. No alarm. Warm bed. Sheets that smelled like … Sebastian. And it wasn’t just the bed that was warm, it was the man next to her.
Her hand was splayed wide on his bare chest and as she realized what she wanted, her fingers curled involuntarily. Sebastian’s hand came up over hers … he wasn’t asleep anymore either. His mouth found her temple and he pressed soft kisses there, turning her on and stealing rational thought. He whispered into her ear, “I want to finish what we started.”
She must have hesitated. Was she fully awake? She was, but she was certainly pulled under by the heat of him, by her own desire, and by the feeling that she didn’t just want him, she needed him.
“I’ve locked and bolted all the doors. The sliding door to the balcony has a brace and I checked it. No one knows we’re here.”
He was reassuring her they wouldn’t get interrupted this time. Thank God.
Maggie pushed up on one elbow, draped herself across him and kissed him with everything she was worth. Her fingertips traced the muscles of his chest and she felt his groan of satisfaction more than she heard it.
She didn’t last as the aggressor for long. He peeled her hand from his chest, lacing their fingers together, and using that point of contact to roll her over. He had her pinned, settled between her legs, long hard body pressed against hers and she didn’t protest.
How had she lived so long without this?
She was reaching for the ties on his pants again, sliding her fingers inside. She wanted to go slow, to savor every touch, relish in every slide of his tongue along her skin. But she didn’t have the patience. She grappled with the fabric, sliding it down his legs only with his help.
When he was kneeling on the bed, fully naked, he looked at her and said, “You are wearing entirely too many clothes.”
She wasn’t wearing pants or shoes. “It’s less than I usually wear.”
“Still too much.”
Maggie was laughing as he quickly stripped her naked. But the sound of his breath catching made hers catch, too. She didn’t know why he wanted her as much as he did, but she wasn’t going to waste it.
Her breath caught, waiting, until his hands were touching her everywhere, turning her on more … if that were possible. She traced his jaw, the muscles in his arms and chest, wrapped her hand around the length of him, and stroked until he made her stop.
“Condom …” he practically gasped the word as he stretched out to reach into the nightstand drawer.
“I’m on the pill.”
Instantly, he was back by her side. “Are you sure?”
“I offered.” She was grinning at him, lifting up to kiss him, when she found herself suddenly flat on her back. His fingers stroked her until she gasped for more. Then as she begged for him, she felt the length of him at her entrance and the hot slide of him pushing home.
He was pulling back before she was ready. “More … please.”
Those breathy sounds were hers, the groans of surrender his.
They moved together, straining to get closer until she was begging him to send her over the edge. Holding himself up on one arm, he reached the other hand down until his thumb found her slick and wanting. He stroked her while pushing into her and on the third time, she screamed his name.
Chapter Forty-Five
Sebastian sat nestled into the corner of his couch with Maggie settled between his legs, leaning back against his chest.
He held his tablet in front of them, his arms looping around her as though the couch were its own private island and she was safe in whatever small shelter he’d made.
He’d packed the tablet at the bottom of his bag when he’d hastily left Maggie’s house. An officer with the Redemption PD had searched the bag and either not found the tablet or not worried about it. Since their laptops had spent the night on the dining room table, they were getting dusted for prints and neither of them had been able to bring their computers.
This was their only way, aside from their phones, to search for information on Merrit Geller now. Their first problem was that they weren't sure who the man they’d seen last night was. But it was one of the best leads they had.
That and William Sanders, one of the other pictures that Marina Balero had produced as a suspect. When Maggie said she thought she remembered that name from Sabbie’s records, that doubled down their suspicions.
Marina had produced three photos. That two of the men not only had ties to the boarding house, but had been renters there made Sebastian wonder if maybe they had the names of the Blue River Killer and the La Vista Rapist and the only thing left was to gather enough evidence for arrests.
Not that anyone had arrested anyone yet. Both men were still free.
Everything was shit right now.
He and Maggie were staying in his apartment because her house was being searched once again. It was the middle of the afternoon, and they'd slept late because they'd been up all night, dealing with break ins, once again. Maggie was losing work and time and possibly her reputation around town, once again.
He was losing work. But he wasn’t going to leave her alone and, frankly, Sebastian had never felt better.
Having Maggie here, being with her, and knowing that she felt the same way he did more than made up for all the rest of it.
She leaned back into him, even as she reached up to tap buttons on the screen of his tablet. Sleeping with her in his arms last night had felt amazing, but while he’d been finally falling asleep, doubt had crept in at the edges.
Was she just tired or did she not want him anymore? Was she with him because she needed someone to keep her safe, and he could do that? Was she one of those women who couldn’t stand to be single and flitted from boyfriend to boyfriend?
He’d reminded himself that none of that sounded like the Maggie he knew. It sounded like his own fears talking. He’d slept on it, but when she’d woken up, she’d cleared all of that up for him.
They were together.
Officially, she'd said. And the idea of Maggie telling people that she was with him was plausibly the best present he'd ever gotten. There was something very, very right about the feeling of her in his arms, whether that was naked and making love or curled up on the couch right now.
Though he had no idea if she felt it as deeply as he did, he was willing to wait to find out. And he was willing to do everything in his power to make sure that even if she didn't feel that way now, she would in the future.
“William Sanders has a horrible name,” Maggie told him.
He couldn’t help but laugh at her proclamation. “At least Merrit Geller is kind of unique. It helps to find him. That's why they three-name them, you know.”
“Three-name?”
“Yeah. Like John Wayne Gacy and Lee Harvey Oswald and Mark David Chapman. If they have common enough names, the media three-names them so they don't get confused for other, innocent people who are unlucky enough to have the same name.”
“Interesting,” Maggie said as she pushed his hands out of the way. Breaking the loop of his hold, she hopped off the couch and headed across the room to her purse. Her ass looked good in those jeans. He wanted so much more than this, but it was way too fast and there was too much up in the air right now. So he kept his mouth s
hut and his eyes on the back pockets of her jeans.
Within moments she was on the phone. “Hey, Marina. Tell me you've got a middle name for Sanders?... Ah, perfect. Thank you! What? Oh? Okay, thanks.” The exchange sounded more like she was calling for clarification on a cake recipe than information on a possible serial killer.
“Treat.” Maggie smiled as she turned back to Sebastian and then spelled it. “He's William Treat Sanders and he's currently living in Lincoln.”
“Marina gave you all that?”
Though Maggie nodded. Her voice said the opposite. “Noooo … No, of course not.”
Sebastian laughed again. Good for Marina. He owed her one—or several—for sharing sensitive information because it would help keep Maggie safe.
“Also, the Redemption PD didn’t find any fingerprints on our laptops that weren’t ours. Mine all over mine, yours on your keyboard, apparently a few of mine on your keyboard?” She scrunched up her face as though that was the oddest thing about it.
Sebastian didn’t care that she’d reached over and typed a few things rather than spelling it out and waiting while he typed far more methodically than she did.
She climbed carefully back onto the couch and settled in the circle of his arms. But just as she leaned back against him, her phone rang again. Popping up, she muttered something about how she should have kept it on her. And this time as she answered, she had a far more professional tone.
Sebastian sat up straight, as he listened to just the one side of the conversation again. Maggie stood rigid, the tension in her shoulders visibly tightening with each thing she heard. He was on his feet and standing behind her in seconds, though he wasn’t sure what he could possibly do.
“Yes,” she said. “Thank you. Okay. Yes. Yes.”
What he heard told him nothing and he hated being in the dark, but at last she hit the off button and turned to look at him. Her eyes were covered in a thin sheen but she wasn’t crying.
Crash and Burn (Wildfire Hearts Book 1) Page 16
