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Lethal Lies

Page 12

by Rebecca Zanetti


  His head nearly blew off. He’d expected tentative and sweet. What he got was powerful and dangerous. She moved closer and rolled right on top of him. The second her core came into contact with his, she stiffened and then settled in.

  Both of her hands tunneled into his hair for a tight grip, and she kissed him, her tongue dueling with his.

  In an instant, he went from curious to on fire. He allowed her to control the kiss for two more seconds and then let himself go. He tightened his hand in her hair and twisted, angling her head so he could delve deeper. Her heated sex cradled his cock, which jumped against her, wanting in. Her soft body tortured him. He flattened his free hand at the small of her waist, pressing down.

  She moaned into his mouth, and he nearly lost the tight hold he had on his control. The woman was soft and round everywhere he was hard, and he wanted nothing more than to get lost in her.

  With a low growl, he turned and flattened her beneath him.

  She hissed a breath into his mouth, and it took a second for him to realize she was in pain. He lifted up, his mind clearing. “What happened?” His elbows held his weight, so he wasn’t crushing her. Yet his dick was pressed rather insistently between her legs.

  “Nothing,” she murmured, tugging his head closer.

  He stilled. “I hurt you. How?” He settled his knees on either side of her body and sat on his haunches, caging her.

  She looked up, her eyes still cloudy with passion, and her lips a deep red. “It’s nothing.”

  He studied her pale pink camisole over her dark yoga pants. Keeping her gaze, he settled his thumbs beneath the flimsy fabric and pushed up. “Holy shit.” A bruise covered several of her ribs. “Tell me they’re not broken.” As gently as he could, he ran the pad of his finger across each rib.

  She sucked in air but didn’t flinch. “Not even cracked, I don’t think. It’s just a bruise, and it still hurts a little, and you caught me off guard when we rolled.”

  Jesus Christ. “This happened when I flattened you at the hotel room. When the attacker burst through the door.” Heath looked at the bruises he’d caused. These were from him. What was he thinking to go along with this insane scheme? Her sister was already dead. Anya could be next. He pulled down the shirt and stepped off the bed. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It isn’t your fault.” Her eyes wide, she scrambled to sit up. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I’m fine, Heath.”

  “You are not fine,” he exploded. She flinched, and it was like somebody had kicked him in the balls. Hard.

  CHAPTER

  14

  Anya could’ve slapped her own head when Heath paled. “I didn’t mean to flinch,” she said weakly. He was a big guy with a temper, and he was beyond dangerous. Anybody would’ve taken note of his anger, but the raw pain in his eyes made her chest hurt. “I’m not scared of you.” There were serious land mines in that man’s head. In his heart, too. She cleared her throat and tried not to look so small against the headboard.

  “I know.” He ran a rough hand through his already disheveled hair, his gaze down as his face went stoic.

  “No.” She sat up straighter. “Don’t retreat. Please.”

  He frowned, his focus moving to her. “Don’t shrink me.”

  Amusement bubbled up through her. “Buddy, I don’t think that’s possible.”

  God, he was something to look at. Standing perfectly confident in his nudity, he was all predatory muscle. A shadow covered his jaw, and his eyes glowed a greenish brown in the light. Her body still hummed with need from his kiss, and for a moment, when he’d pressed her against the bed, she’d thought maybe they’d take it further. What would he be like hot with passion and fully engaged? Her nipples peaked even more.

  He started, and then his shoulders seemed to smooth out. “I have a slight glitch with strong people hurting, ah, smaller ones.”

  It was nice that he’d said smaller instead of weaker. “You have a glitch with men hurting women,” she said softly. “That’s not a bad glitch, Heath. The fact that you are strong and could hurt somebody doesn’t mean you will. It doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

  His head went back, just enough to show shock. “I don’t think I’m bad.” His voice lacked conviction.

  She didn’t want to be his shrink, but she did want to help. Wanted to soothe him. “Somewhere deep down you know you could hurt me. The fact that you won’t, that you wouldn’t even think about it, shows you’re good.” It was so easy for childhood trauma to mix up reality, even in adults.

  He studied her, his gaze probing and lightening. “You’re a smart one, now, aren’t you?” Admiration and something darker filled his tone. Something masculine and . . . interested. Then his eyes leisurely wandered down to her body, no doubt seeing everything.

  Tension rolled through the room. Wild and deep . . . even emotional with need.

  Her gaze slid down the hard planes of his chest and even lower, as if she couldn’t control herself. “Oh my God.” Heat flashed into her face and burned her cheeks. While she hadn’t really looked before, now she couldn’t help herself. He was well outlined and definitely aroused. “Dude. You’re huge.”

  His mouth went slack for a moment. Then he shook his head like a dog with a face full of water. “Jesus.”

  She winced and tried to focus on his face. Only his face. Not lower. Definitely not any lower. “Um. Too much information. Sorry. Brain and mouth are connected.” Yet didn’t guys like to hear that? In his case, it was certainly true. He didn’t seem overly pleased with her observation, however. “Um. Sorry.” She ground a fist into her eye. This was getting beyond awkward.

  He sighed. “Let’s get dressed and hit the road. We can grab something to eat on the way.”

  As if on cue, her stomach rumbled. “Good plan.” Her cell phone buzzed from the side table, and she picked it up. “Hi, Reese.”

  Heath’s head jerked back.

  Her eyes widened. Oh no. She hadn’t thought. Her mind had been on Heath’s body and not on the moment. She wasn’t even fully awake yet.

  “Where the hell are you?” Reese snapped out. “You and Heath Jones are supposed to be in my office right now. As in right now, right now.”

  She bit her lip. “Well, we, ah, aren’t going to make it.”

  Heath held out a broad hand for the phone. She gave him a look but handed it over. He pressed the speaker button. “Special Agent Reese? I decided to take Anya out of the jurisdiction and get her to safety, considering she all but put a bull’s-eye on her red head.”

  “You think we can’t keep her safe, asshole?” Reese’s voice rose dangerously and filled the room. “We’re the FBI.”

  Anya winced. The speaker on the phone was way too loud.

  Heath nodded. “I don’t care who you are because you’ll use her. We both know you’ll use Anya as a decoy, and I’m not gonna let you do that.”

  Silence ticked for a moment. “She made herself a decoy.”

  “Yeah, because she’s emotional about this case, as are you. She’s my fiancée, and I’m going to keep her safe whether you like it or not.” Heath’s emphasis on the word my sent funny tingles through her still-aroused body. “After I get her somewhere safe, I’ll contact you, if you’d still like to interview me. I promise I don’t have any information I didn’t share with Loretta. There’s nothing to learn from me.”

  “I think you’re full of shit, Jones.” Rustling came over the line. “If you think I’m going to sit here and not start investigating your ass, you’re crazy. In fact, where were you the day Special Agent Jackson was taken? Have an alibi?”

  Heath’s face hardened. “I liked Special Agent Jackson, and I never would’ve hurt her. You know that, or there’s no way you would’ve let me leave the cemetery.”

  As if anybody could’ve stopped Heath. Anya watched him, her instincts flaring. He was even more dangerous than she’d thought, but that didn’t mean he was a bad guy. Unless he was, and since her instinc
ts sucked lately, it was unfortunately possible.

  Her hands shook as she rubbed her eyes again. God, she was tired. “I talked to Loretta after I met him one time, Reese.” She tried to strengthen her voice. “Loretta said that she’d cleared Heath for at least two of the earlier murders and that she trusted him.”

  “She didn’t know we believe there might be two killers,” Reese shot back. “Where are you, Anya? I’ll send a car to bring you to safety.”

  “Why do you think there are two?” Heath asked, frowning. “The M.O. fits one crazy bastard, not two.”

  “I’m not sharing with you,” Reese returned evenly. “As of now, you’re impeding an investigation.”

  Heath shook his head and glared at the phone. “You know I’m not. Why don’t you do your damn job and find this guy? Have you interviewed Carl Sparks? That guy seems sketchy to me. He could be your guy.”

  “You know, maybe he is,” Reese said thoughtfully. “He didn’t show up for his interview, either. Maybe you and Carl are the killing pair I’ve been looking for.”

  Okay, so Reese was pissed. Anya breathed out, her mind clicking facts into place. Intelligence and not emotion would prevail. “I understand that you’re angry, but come on. Heath has been cleared by Loretta, and while Carl is a jerk, he’s not a serial killer. Frankly, I don’t think he’s savvy enough to have evaded the authorities for this many months, and there’s no doubt the Copper Killer is a smart guy. Or guys.”

  “Either way, I scheduled two interviews and neither man showed up.” Reese whispered something unintelligible to somebody. “If you ask me, Carl is on his way to find you. He seemed overly concerned that you left with Heath. And you’re wrong about me, Anya. I have no intention of using you as a decoy. I plan to put you back into protective custody. I owe Loretta that much.”

  Anya shook her head, breath rushing through her. “I don’t want to be hidden away. This guy killed my sister, and I’m his end goal. Why not use that?” She tried to sound sure, but the idea of the killer finding her sent chills skittering down her spine. She shivered.

  “Because you’re an untrained civilian,” Reese said, whispering away from the phone again.

  Heath disengaged the call. “Damn it. Get ready to go. Now.”

  “Why?” she asked, swinging her attention to him.

  “They traced us. I heard a tech whisper that to Reese,” Heath said. “We need to go. Now.”

  Okay. His super hearing was bizarre, but she’d figure that out later. She scrambled up and grabbed her suitcase, fully on board with his plan. For now. “I don’t want to go into protective custody.” The killer wanted her and would keep taking other victims that looked like her until she stopped him.

  Heath reached for jeans on the floor. “Agreed. Frankly, the FBI didn’t protect Loretta, and you are right. This killer is good. Brilliant maybe. I want you where I can watch you.”

  While there was nothing sexual about his tone of voice, the words still tunneled through her like a wild kiss. “You don’t trust the FBI, do you?” she murmured.

  “No,” he said shortly. “Loretta was too easy to find. Maybe somebody in her team shouldn’t be trusted.”

  Anya paused, shoving the phone into her bag. “Man, you really don’t like law enforcement people.”

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Let’s just say I want you with me and the few people in life I know and do trust. I’ll have my brothers set up a safe place, several really, in Snowville. They should be set by the time we get there.”

  Speaking of trust. “Should we talk about what happened earlier?” What had almost happened?

  He looked up from rummaging through his duffel for a faded green shirt. “There’s nothing to talk about. We had a moment, it was a mistake, and that’s the end of it.” His expression remained neutral and his gaze veiled. “I’m sorry if I scared you, and I’ll make sure to take better care from now on.”

  She clutched her bag closer to her chest. He had been taking great care of her, but she truly didn’t know him, now, did she? “I’m asking one more time. Are you wanted by the law?” There was something off about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. Her dad had been a cop, and she believed in the system. In the people working for the system.

  “No. I’m just not a big fan of the police,” he said.

  “Just like the Copper Killer,” she blurted. Her eyes widened. “Oh. I mean—Well, I know you’re not the killer.”

  He grinned, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s a relief.”

  CHAPTER

  15

  Snowville had a sweet charm that she’d discovered while staying there with Loretta, and Anya appreciated the nicely plowed neighborhoods they passed before reaching their destination. The building Heath’s brothers had chosen as a safe haven was made of older brick, which looked crumbly but sturdy in an authentic early 1900s kind of way. There were garage doors on one side, which would allow them to park on the ground level.

  The idea of a clandestine operation raised her blood pressure, and yet her focus had narrowed and she seemed to notice everything. The homeless guy shuffling along the icy sidewalk with a full shopping cart. The teenagers in their ripped jeans and puffy jackets strutting toward the stores. The mom with three toddlers and an empty stroller. Were they all who they seemed?

  Anya glanced at Heath’s calm expression as he circled the block. Watching him filled her with more than anticipation. Her blood sped, and her body tuned to his. The more time she spent with him, the more fascinating he became. He noticed everything, and that was quite a skill. And what was up with his super-hearing, anyway? What kind of a world had she just entered? Was she imagining things or was there more at play?

  “What are we doing?” she asked, just having awoken upon entering Snowville.

  “I’m taking note of alleys and escape routes from the building. You should look around, too.” His voice remained calm and steady, but an alertness showed in the line of his strong shoulders.

  She studied the buildings around them. Everything in her wanted to trust her instincts, but he was way beyond her realm of experience. “I know you’re innocent, but you have traits the FBI might be interested in. You need to be careful.”

  He rubbed the scruff on his jaw. “What do you mean?”

  That jaw looked made of stone. Chiseled and strong. “You are smart and trained, and you could take on a trained FBI agent easily. However, you do have definite triggers about women, and you’ve been involved in the case for a while. Don’t many killers try to work with law enforcement in such cases?” she asked thoughtfully.

  He cut her a look. “Yeah. Maybe I am a good suspect. If Agent Reese thinks about it, he’ll start plastering my face everywhere in an effort to track me down. That can’t happen.”

  “Why not? You have a good face.” Truth be told, he had an amazing face. If she were a sculptor, she could spend weeks getting the lines and angles just right.

  He flashed a grin. “Thanks. With the detective agency, I like to stay under the radar as much as possible.”

  It was a good explanation, but was it the truth? Besides being strongly good-looking, he was so alert and dangerous. What was she doing trusting him? If he turned on her, what would she do? She shivered.

  He circled the building once more and drove up to one of the small garage doors, which opened immediately. “Cameras are already in place and functioning around the perimeter of the entire building.” He drove into a cavernous parking area.

  Concrete surrounded them, cracked and crumbling. Was the building sound? If Heath’s brothers were as careful as he was, then the building would be perfect. Well, probably. That hadn’t been a very straight answer about the law. She instinctively searched for another exit in the garage.

  A sleek black truck and a nicely decked out Jeep were parked in the far corner. Heath cut the engine.

  She released her seat belt and surveyed the garage area. Her breath quickened. “I guess we’ve arriv
ed.”

  “You sure you don’t think I’m a serial killer?” he asked quietly.

  She tried to see beyond the surface with him. To understand. To stop feeling so vulnerable and out of her depth. “No. I’m a redhead, and you wouldn’t be able to act so natural around me. Besides, if you were, you’d be trying to wear my skin by now, right?”

  He chuckled at her lame joke. “I have no clue if that’s right or not, but I’m not the killer.”

  “Loretta said you weren’t, and she was good at her job.” Anya clasped her hands together. “Based on my profile, you don’t exactly fit.” Yet where did he fit? Really?

  “I don’t?”

  “No. Your attachment to your brothers gives you a hint of normalcy.” She looked around. “So. What do we do now?” Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her hold on her hands.

  “You’re safe here.” He stretched from the SUV and reached in for their bags, gaze sweeping the entire area. “We need to get settled in and then discuss a plan. And a contingency plan.” He lifted an eyebrow. “And probably a plan C.”

  Why did she feel safe with him? She didn’t know him and wasn’t sure she should trust him. But as he scouted the garage for threats, she knew with a certainty born of instinct that he’d protect her. “I’m in on this plan,” she said. The crazy plan to catch a deadly serial killer. Heath wasn’t arguing with her or trying to force her into somewhere safe and hidden, as appealing as that was. “I’m playing a part.”

  He slammed the back door and came around to her side of the vehicle. “You’re playing the most important part.” He paused. “But if you’ve changed your mind, I definitely understand. We can move on to Plan D.” His shoulders relaxed as if he’d been carrying a burden that had suddenly becoming lighter. “We could—”

  “No.” She turned fully toward him. “I want to do this. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to just walk right up to the guy and say ‘Take me,’ you know.”

  Why couldn’t she figure out who he was? There had to be some sort of clue somewhere. She’d gone over her own life, her entire past, so many times her head hurt.

 

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