Till Death

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “You keep extras with the rest of the keys in the back room?” he asked.

  When I nodded, he patted the table and told me he would be back down. Tyron made good on his words when he walked back through the dining room with another officer and the forensic investigator who’d been here before.

  Then I was alone, and I didn’t know for how long. All I could think about was the fact that someone had been in here again without our knowledge, but this time they weren’t just snatching a key. They were carrying a body upstairs.

  Could it be Currie?

  He’d been here yesterday morning. Maybe he grabbed a key and made a copy at some point. God knows how many times he’d used that entrance before I’d run into him. He could’ve taken her upstairs, found an empty room and left her body there, jacking up the heat before leaving—leaving and coming to me.

  If it wasn’t him, then was it the mayor? Killing someone and leaving their body here was enough to make me want to leave, but again, his involvement made no sense.

  Footsteps snagged my attention, and I lifted my head.

  Cole appeared in the doorway, his jaw a hard line and eyes icy. He said nothing as he stormed forward, brushing Myers aside. I hadn’t even realized the agent had entered the room. How long had he been there?

  I honestly didn’t care about him at the moment.

  I rose and went to Cole, meeting him halfway. His arms came around me, his fingers digging deep in my hair.

  Pressing my face against his chest, I felt the burn in my throat and behind my eyes, but the tears didn’t come. No matter how tight Cole held me or how hard I squeezed him back.

  But I wasn’t numb.

  I was scared.

  “I want you to pack a couple of days’ worth of clothes.” Cole was standing in the center of the kitchen. Twenty minutes ago, the FBI agents had filed out. “Same with your mom. She can stay in my guest room. Tomorrow, when the cleanup company is scheduled to come over, I’ll meet them here.”

  I nodded slowly, this time not arguing. I didn’t want to stay here. Even with the . . . the body gone, this place, as terrible as it was to admit, was tainted for me. I knew, or at least I hoped, it would fade one day. It had to, but right now, I needed the distance.

  So did Mom.

  “She’s not going to be happy with it,” I said, placing the salad Mom had been making in the trash. “But I agree. We both need to get out of here.”

  “It’ll do you both some good.” He leaned against the island while I grabbed the cutting board and took it to the sink. “But it’s more than that, Sasha.”

  My stomach tightened as I added the board to the bowls and turned on the water. “I know.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t want to scare you.”

  Swallowing, I looked over my shoulder. “I’m already scared. You can’t scare me anymore.”

  The skin around his lips tensed. “Sasha—”

  “I know.” I turned back to the sink and picked up the sponge. “I know what is happening,” I said, scrubbing at the bowls. “I know that Angela and the woman from Frederick suffered horrible deaths. I know that the woman—that Liz—died in a horrific way. It doesn’t matter if it’s a copycat or if it’s someone who was working with the Groom ten years ago. They all died in horrible ways.”

  “Stop,” he said quietly.

  Turning the bowl over and running it under clean water, I kept going. “And I know that whoever is doing this is going to come for me. I know.” My throat dried. “Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he’s just doing this because—”

  “Sasha.”

  “Because I got away.” My voice cracked as I picked up another bowl. “Maybe this is punishment. Maybe—”

  “Stop,” he said, closer. “Stop and look at me.”

  “I need to clean these dishes,” I told him, clearing my throat. “I don’t want to come back to a bunch of dirty dishes. And I don’t want Mom—”

  “Babe . . .”

  Inhaling slowly, I squinted at the bowl. Was that a seed stuck? I started scrubbing again. “I’m almost done and then I will go pack—”

  Cole reached around and turned off the water. Then he took the sponge from my hand and tossed it into the sink. “These bowls can’t get any cleaner.”

  I stared at the bowls. He was right. They were pretty clean. My hands fell to the rim of the sink.

  He turned me in his arms. Two fingers curled around my chin, and he lifted my gaze to his. “This isn’t punishment.”

  A knot was at the base of my throat. “It’s not?”

  “No.”

  “Can you really think that?” My voice was hoarse. “Let’s be real with each other, because I need to be real with myself. This started when I decided to come home, or maybe someone was doing this all along, but they’ve changed their pattern. They are making it known now. They’re making sure I know they are here. Why else would this be happening now? It has to do with me and the only reason I can think of—”

  Glass shattered from the dining room, and I spun around. Cole beat me to the door first, shoving it open, and I was right behind him. An anguished cry tore free as I saw my mom on the dining room floor.

  Cole was immediately at her side, whipping his phone out of his pocket.

  “Mom,” I cried out, dropping to my knees beside her. My heart pounded sickeningly fast as I reached out and felt her skin. It was cool and clammy. “Mom!”

  Her face was incredibly pale, a sickly shade, and there was no response. Nothing. There was nothing.

  Chapter 27

  Twisting my hands together, I squeezed my eyes shut until I saw tiny sparks of light.

  A heart attack.

  Oh God, she had been having a heart attack and she was in surgery for what felt like forever, but had only been an hour or so.

  Cole’s hand slid down my back. He’d been doing that on and off this whole time, and it was the only thing keeping me from having a legit mental breakdown in the middle of the hospital.

  I couldn’t lose my mom.

  If I did, I wouldn’t—

  The doctor stepped out of the doors and called my name. “Miss Keeton?”

  I rose, heart thumping in my chest. Cole was right beside me. “Yes?”

  He smiled as he approached me. “Your mom is awake and in her room. She is recovering fine.”

  “Oh thank God.” My knees felt weak as I clutched Cole’s arm. “Oh my God, I want to hug and kiss you.”

  The doctor glanced at Cole. “That’s not necessary,” he replied wryly. “We were able to stop the heart attack with an angioplasty.” He continued to explain the procedure, mentioning words like balloon and stent. Finally, he got to what I wanted to hear. “You can go up and see her now, but I would suggest to make the visit brief. She needs a lot of rest, but the good news is that she should be released in twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

  I mumbled my thanks about a dozen more times before Cole got the room number and carted me off, up to the room.

  I stumbled when I saw her in the bed, her body so small and frail looking, and too pale. Not as bad as when I saw her on the floor, but still so incredibly void of color.

  Rushing to her bedside, I picked up her hand as Cole moved to the other side of her bed. “Mom,” I whispered.

  Her smile was faint. “Don’t squeeze my hand like I almost died.”

  “Mom,” I laughed, sniffling. “You scared me half to death.”

  She slowly turned her head toward Cole. “She’s been a wreck, hasn’t she?”

  “She’s been holding it together,” he replied, grinning. “Though she almost started a fight earlier.”

  I frowned at him. “What?”

  “She said she was going to kiss your doctor,” he explained, and I rolled my eyes. “Wasn’t having that.”

  “Of course not,” Mom replied, her words slow. “Not that . . . she would want to ever kiss another man when she has you—”

  “Mom.” I shook my head.

 
Her gaze slid to me. “Honey, I might’ve had some crap shoved up my veins to stop a heart attack, but that does not mean I am . . . dead or blind.”

  Cole chuckled.

  “Geez,” I muttered.

  It wasn’t long before Mom’s eyelids were lowering and it was taking longer in between each blink. Even though I wanted to camp out, it was time to leave. I glanced over at Cole, and he nodded. “I’ll come back later,” I told her.

  She smiled tiredly. “Honey, you go home with Cole. Don’t—”

  “Mom—”

  “Don’t come back here. I’m going to be sleeping. Just go home with him and be safe,” she insisted, her weary gaze fixing on mine. “Be safe.”

  I took a deep breath and then nodded. “Okay.” Rising, I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you too, honey.”

  It took me a couple of moments to make myself leave her bedside. Once out in the hall, Cole turned to me. “You want to come back later, after dinner?”

  I smiled faintly. “Yes.”

  “We can do that after we pick up your clothes and get some food in you.”

  Heading toward the elevator, I dug out my phone and hit the screen, quickly scanning texts. “Miranda and Jason are waiting for us at the inn.”

  “They’re inside the inn?”

  “Seems so.” I slipped my phone back in my purse. The elevator doors opened. “I don’t think I locked up afterward. I was in such a panic.” And honestly, what was the point? Someone already had a key most likely.

  Snow was starting to fall again, dusting the parking lot and freshening up the snow already on the grass.

  Cole’s steps slowed as his truck came into view. Tyron was waiting beside it, a black skullcap pulled low. “Would’ve called but heard you two were at the hospital,” he said. “How’s your mother?”

  “They were able to stop the heart attack.” I took a deep breath as Cole tucked me into his side and ran his hand down the center of my back. Even with a jacket on, the gesture was comforting. “The doctor said it was minor compared to how bad it could’ve been. They’re going to keep her for a few days, but she should be okay.”

  “That’s great news. Glad to hear it.” Tyron glanced between us. “And I think I have even more good news for you.”

  At this point, I figured almost anything was good news.

  Cole dropped his arm and reached down, finding my hand. “What’s going on?”

  “Just heard from a unit who’s over at Mayor Hughes’ house.” Tyron stepped forward, voice low. “This isn’t the good-news part, but looks like he committed suicide earlier this afternoon. Left a note. That’s the good-news part. He admitted to everything.”

  Cole curled an arm around my shoulders and hauled me forward, against his chest. We stood at the front doors of the inn a few hours after we left the hospital. The crime scene unit had just been leaving when we arrived. I imagined they’d combed the entire house. The room upstairs was still closed off, probably would be for several days.

  “You’re going to be okay,” he said, folding his other arm around my waist. “Your mom’s going to be fine.”

  Wrapping my arms around him, I rested my cheek against his chest. I tried to smile and failed. Too worried about my mom and unable to shake a wealth of nervous energy, I felt absolutely horrible for the mayor’s family. No matter what evil that man had done, I couldn’t imagine what his family was going through.

  But there was something else nagging at me. I . . . I couldn’t help feeling like we were missing something—that I was missing something.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I said, opening my eyes. “Why would he do that to hide his secret? All it did was draw attention to what happened. I don’t get it.”

  Cole didn’t immediately respond as he threaded his fingers through my hair. He knew what I did. That the mayor’s wife had found him in the office of his home with a single gunshot wound to the head and a suicide letter on the desk. According to Tyron, he admitted to not just the vandalism of our vehicles, but the murders of the three women and to mailing Angela’s finger to me. DNA hadn’t confirmed that the finger had belonged to her, but from what I gathered, due to the state of her body, it most likely was hers. He’d given no reason other than he could no longer live his life with, as Tyron said, “the shame of his family.”

  It didn’t make sense.

  And Cole had been stiff and tense ever since. He wasn’t saying it, but I knew he was thinking the same thing as me. The mayor had repeatedly showed his worry over me dragging up the past, and with the knowledge Striker had given me, that was understandable since very few people knew he was related to the Groom. His actions today didn’t match his actions of the past.

  “That’s why I’m heading over to his house with Tyron. It’s not my case or jurisdiction, but he’s going to get me in,” Cole finally said. “I want to see this for myself.”

  I drew back, lifting my head. The crime scene was as it had been found, secured by the FBI and local law enforcement. “And you’re not going to get into trouble?”

  “Myers will be pissed to see me, but he can’t do shit.” He cupped my cheeks. “Miranda and Jason are going to stay here until I get back. Or at least one of them,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I won’t be gone long. Okay?”

  “’Kay,” I whispered.

  His eyes searched mine and then he lowered his mouth. Cole kissed me, and there was nothing soft or slow about it. It was deep and rough, and all too brief. When he pulled back, those beautiful pale blue eyes were full of fire.

  “I’ll be waiting for you,” I promised.

  “Better be.” His hands lingered, almost like he didn’t want to let go, and honestly, I didn’t want him to. He brushed his lips over mine once more and then he did step back.

  As he walked away, the urge to say “I love you” flared so brightly on the tip of my tongue, but the words didn’t come out. All I did was smile and give him a corny-ass finger wave that caused him to give me a crooked grin. And those words were burning a hole through my tongue as I walked back to the kitchen.

  Miranda was sitting at the table, a bottle of water instead of wine in front of her. Jason was standing, leaning against the kitchen island.

  “I almost told Cole I loved him,” I blurted out.

  Jason blinked slowly. “Wow. That was random.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Miranda asked, twisting in her seat.

  “I don’t know. It just seems too . . . it’s too soon,” I said, walking around the island to the fridge, in bad need of the full sugary power of a Coke. “And really bad timing to drop those three words.”

  “Is there really any perfect time?” Miranda folded her arms across her chest.

  Jason grinned as he moved to the other side of the island and leaned into it. “I’d say anytime other than the mayor of the town admitting to killing women and then shooting himself would be it.”

  She shot him a look. “Okay. I’ll give you that, but that’s all.”

  “Where’s Cole heading to again?” Jason asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.

  I took a drink of the carbonated goodness and then lowered the bottle to the counter. “He was going over to the mayor’s house.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  Fiddling with the lid, I shrugged. “He wanted to see the scene for himself.”