by Lily Rede
But Tom shook his head, adamant.
“I appreciate the thought, Colin, but it’s better to have work. Besides, the Harvest Festival is barely a week away, and there’s already too much for three people to handle.”
“It might not be safe to hang around, Tom.”
“Fuck it,” scowled Tom, “If some bastard wants to come after you, they’re going to have to go through me first.”
Colin grinned to cover the swell of emotion.
“Well, in that case, get back to work.”
Tom saluted.
“Yes, sir.”
EVIE STARED AT THE corkboard covered in photographs and scribbled notes and sighed. At this point, half the town could be the killer. She’d managed to knock a few names off the list, but there was too much ground to cover – too many suspects, too many loose ends.
Tony came up next to her and leaned against her desk in the main room of the Sheriff’s Department. Late afternoon sun streamed through the windows as Tony handed her a cup of coffee.
“You sound the way I feel.”
“Thanks. I keep thinking if I stare at it long enough, the killer’s just going to pop up and be totally obvious.”
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. And I hate to do it, but I have to add one more problem to our growing pile of shit.”
“What’s that?” Evie sipped her coffee, strong and black, the way she liked it.
“Over the next week, we’re going to have thousands of people coming in for the Harvest Festival. Not only is it going to be harder to pick out any suspicious behavior, but we’re going to be stretched thin regardless – there’s no way we can keep up security.”
“So what do we do?”
Tony started moving photographs from one end of the corkboard to the other – Candace, Tom, Colin.
“Let’s focus security on Colin and his staff. The killer is going to strike close to home, and Candace and Tom are like family. So we’ll focus on this column.”
“So I’ve been informed,” Evie muttered, sour.
Tony grabbed a notepad from the desk and scrawled on it, and then ripped the sheet off and tacked it up under Tom’s picture.
Evie Asher.
“Hey!” Evie protested.
“Evie, your love life is none of my business, but I’d have to be blind to miss the fact that you’ve got our young mayor wrapped around your prickly little finger.”
“Hardly,” she scoffed.
Tony folded his arms and held her gaze, steady.
“Protest all you like, but the killer’s already seen the two of you together, and I have absolute proof that you are high on his or her target list.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be sorry,” insisted Tony, “You’re allowed to have a life, and personally I think it would be great for Colin to wind up with someone who’s as much of a control freak as he is. But your timing sucks.”
“What do we do next?”
“Well, we’ve got a call in to the pharmacy to confirm Candace’s alibi, we’ve basically eliminated all of Colin’s paramours and business associates. I’m at a loss. What do you think?”
Evie examined the board for a moment and then moved two photos to the center, and then stood back.
“Dreyer Morton or Millicent Grayson?” Tony sounded surprised.
“Millicent has been impossible to track down – every time I try to get hold of her to ask a few questions, she’s unavailable. The scuttlebutt is that she has a thing for Colin, and seems a little possessive about him.”
“Poor girl. Her husband was lost at sea. They never even found the body.” Tony revealed.
“That might be enough to drive a person over the edge – alone with a young son to raise, fixated on a kind, successful man who has the gall to ignore her advances.”
Tony nodded, reflective.
“Well, check it out, though I don’t know. It seems like a stretch – she doesn’t look like she could harm a fly. What about Dreyer Morton?”
“It’s no secret that he hates Colin for having a relationship with his daughter.”
Tony snorted, dismissive.
“If it wasn’t Althea, Dreyer would find eight reasons to hate Colin before breakfast. The man was furious that Hank Daniels was elected mayor instead of him, and figured when he died that he’d finally get his chance. Then the Council backed Colin and that was that. He was pretty pissed – he’s on the Council himself.”
“They didn’t even consider him?”
“You catch more flies with honey, Asher, and Dreyer is nine-tenths vinegar. Besides, he already owns half the town. I’m guessing folks figured that a man can have too much power.”
Evie stretched carefully.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.”
Tony scrutinized her carefully.
“Go home. Case or no case, you’re still healing. I’ll have a couple of guys meet you up there.”
Evie was about to protest, but knew he was right, and a nap and a bath sounded good. Instead, she nodded.
“Think you can convince Dreyer Morton to come down here for a chat?”
“Without a fully prepped legal team? Maybe. I’ll give it a shot.” Tony grinned and pointed to the door. “Out. That’s an order.”
THE ASHER CABIN WAS silent, as it had been before Fran Asher’s granddaughter had moved back to town, and brought her life of sin and corruption with her. Like father, like daughter. Her mother at least had realized that the world was better off without her kind and had taken care of the problem. If only Laura’s bullet had killed her husband instead of just wounding him, but no, his corruption had seeped into young Evie Asher, and now she was back, luring Colin in with her soft curves.
SLUT COP. It won’t stand.
Killing Deirdre had been satisfying, especially after the rage that overflowed at the sight of Colin pleasuring the Asher woman out on the porch, for God and the entire world to see. He’d used his hands and mouth, and even from the secluded spot in the woods, the pleasure and satisfaction on the woman’s face was evident. And intolerable. The shots were meant to hurt, to rid the world of another succubus, but the fear of hitting Colin was too great, so accuracy was impossible. He needed to live, in order to be corrected.
And then we can be together.
The sound of approaching cars meant visitors, and there was work to be done. Hasty now, red spray paint staining the latex gloves as the message was laid out.
This was the last warning, but really, it was meaningless, because no matter what –
Evie Asher had to die.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EVIE WAS NUMB AS she made the short drive from her house to Colin’s. The giant red SLUT spray painted across the front of Gram’s beloved cabin was a violation, a reminder that she was in the killer’s sights. The feeling of helplessness and fury had fused together into an icy rage that left her surprisingly calm, and then numb as she gave her statement to Tony. Together with Zeke and a couple of volunteers, they had scoured the area – more wasted hours.
Inside the cabin, Evie had been shocked to find evidence of tampering – nothing was missing, but objects had been moved. Her skin crawled at the thought of the killer touching her things, invading her space. By the time she and Tony had finished dusting for prints and taking pictures, it was dark.
She had protested when Tony ordered her over to Colin’s place for the night – the place was under heavy guard already, and there was no way Evie was spending the night at her cabin tonight.
“It’s just going to provoke the bastard,” she insisted.
“I think at this point you could be halfway around the world and still be in danger. At least if you’re both in one place I can keep an eye on you.”
Too upset and exhausted to argue, Evie had simply climbed into her car and headed over. As she pulled up in the driveway, she took note of an unfamiliar silver minivan.
Evie forced a nonchalant smile for th
e guards as she walked up to the porch and knocked. A moment later, the door was wrenched open, and Colin looked down at her, his eyes filled with surprise and relief.
“Deputy Asher! Come in, please.”
Bemused, she let him take her backpack and usher her into the living room, where Millicent Grayson sat, nursing a cup of coffee. She was wearing a tight, low-cut red sweater and a short skirt, and looked more than a little annoyed to see Evie. Realization slammed into Evie – she’d interrupted an attempted seduction. But unlike the last time, when it was clear that Colin was enthusiastically encouraging Deirdre’s advances with a few of his own, now he seemed almost desperate to get away.
Serves you right, thought Evie, as Colin propelled her forward.
“Millie, have you met Evie?”
Reluctantly, Millicent shook hands.
“Nice to meet you, Deputy. Your grandmother was a wonderful woman. She’s missed in this community.”
“Thanks. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, Miss Grayson. I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Actually, this isn’t the best time – ” began Millicent, angling herself a little toward Colin.
“It’s a perfect time,” Colin assured Evie, putting her between them.
Evie was amused, but swallowed the smile that threatened.
“Can you tell me where you were Monday night, Millicent?”
“I was home. My son Lloyd was sick.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“No, I was home alone.”
“Did you make any calls?”
“No.” Millicent turned to Colin, her eyes wide and scared, “Colin, what is this?”
“Just routine questions,” Evie insisted, soothingly, “We’re questioning anyone who might have a connection to Colin. Everyone he works with, everyone he’s dated, and so on.”
Millicent blushed.
“Colin has been wonderful since my husband died. But he and I are just friends,” she murmured. So far. The words were unspoken, but hung in the air between them. Behind her, Evie could hear Colin mutter, “Shit,” under his breath.
“Millie, maybe we should have coffee another day. Deputy Asher and I have some police business to go over.”
Millicent frowned, but set her cup down.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you staying here alone.”
Some demon prompted Evie to speak up. “There’s security guarding the house until the threat has passed, and I’ll be staying here tonight as well.”
She turned to look at Colin and caught the flare of heat in his eyes, but he tamped down on it before smiling gently at Millicent.
“See? Safe and sound. I promise.”
Millicent bit her lip, but gathered her coat, stopping to give Colin a hug, which he returned.
“If you need anything, I’m just a phone call away.”
“I’ll see you out.”
With a barely civil nod at Evie, Millicent let Colin lead her out of the living room.
Evie used the moment alone to gather herself, and a sense of inevitability settled over her. She knew what she was about to do was a monumentally terrible idea, but she didn’t want to fight it anymore. It rankled that some deranged stalker had labeled her a slut, and was punishing her for leading Colin Daniels down a dark, sexual path. It rankled even more that aside from some mind-blowing heavy petting, she was innocent of the accusations.
If I’m going to be branded a nymphomaniac, the least I deserve is a couple of screaming orgasms to validate it, she reasoned, all of her past reluctance and worries swamped by the thought of finally getting what she’d wanted since the moment she stepped foot in Bright’s Ferry.
Colin returned to the room, leaning thoughtfully against the doorway.
“You don’t really think she killed Deirdre, do you?”
“I can’t rule it out.” Evie hoped her hands weren’t shaking as she tried to figure out the best way to broach the subject she really wanted to talk about.
“Do you really mean that, or are you just jealous?” he teased.
Evie blustered. Of course I’m jealous. That doesn’t mean I have to admit it.
Rather than answer, she stalked past him and headed upstairs, her pulse pounding. Behind her, she felt Colin hesitate, and then follow. Outside his bedroom door, she stopped and turned to face him.
“Is there anyone in this town who doesn’t want to fuck you?” The words came out harsher than Evie had intended.
“What are you doing here, Evie?” His voice was soft, heated, and she couldn’t meet his gaze.
She reached for the buttons of his shirt instead. A rough yank and they gave way, pinging across the floor.
COLIN LOST HIS BREATH as Evie ripped his shirt open to flatten her hands against his chest. The skin-to-skin contact was so unexpected, so delicious, that he shuddered, hardening so swiftly that it was almost painful.
Evie’s lower lip was trembling, and her eyes were lowered, focused on the flesh she explored with greedy, but oddly tentative strokes. He realized with a shock that she was scared as Hell. Scared of what? That he’d reject her? Fat fucking chance.
The spark between them was off the charts, but the memory that made him quake was Evie on the porch, bare and glowing with sexual satisfaction, the taste of her sweet pussy lingering on his tongue as she shyly invited him inside. The first hint of trust.
Trust that had been trampled as Evie spent the week interviewing the women he’d slept with. As a result, she probably expected something meaningless and fast, a sweaty drive to climax that would leave them physically satiated, but not require any more commitment than a couple of hours of her gorgeous body straining against his. A quick fuck that would leave her wounded heart out of it, and let her get on with her life, her defenses intact.
Colin was stunned to find that he didn’t want that. Not with Evie. She’d come to him and they were going to do this right. He wanted it to mean something to her. What exactly, he wasn’t sure, but Colin wanted her to remember him, to wipe all memory of other lovers out of her head until she was as obsessed with him as he was coming to be with her. If that made her uncomfortable, he’d just have to make her come again and again, until she was too unglued to think about it.
He licked his suddenly dry lips, thinking about how responsive she was as Evie scraped his nipples with sharp little fingernails and stroked a path downward. His cock jerked.
“You came over to sleep with me.” His voice was harsh, hands still clenched at his sides.
“Are you going to turn me down?” she asked as though that were an actual possibility.
“Not on your life. But we’re going to do this my way.” Of that, Colin was sure.
Evie frowned.
“That’s not what – ”
No more arguments.
“Shut up and strip.”
THE DEMAND SENT A wave of heat through Evie’s veins, but she ignored Colin, reaching for his belt, surprised to find her hands were shaking as she tried to work the buckle. She couldn’t believe she’d ripped his shirt. His chest was as gorgeous as she remembered, miles of hard muscle, warm and alive and begging to be touched. Fucking buckle. She jerked at it.
“Shit.”
“Evie.”
Colin’s hands closed over hers and she looked up, startled, and caught her breath at the hunger in his eyes. Holding her gaze, he helped her slowly open his belt, undo the single button, and carefully slide the zipper down over the heavy bulge beneath. The eroticism of the simple act had her pussy throbbing, already damp with need.
Evie freed her fingers from his and looked down.
Colin sucked in a breath as she traced the soft arrow of hair under his navel, and then slid past the waistband of his boxer briefs to wrap her fingers around his cock, hot and huge, the size of him making her own breath catch in her throat.
“God, baby,” he groaned, his head falling back as she learned him, stroking and squeezing, and using her other hand to shove his clothing down hi
s body, wanting him completely bare to her. He shrugged off the remains of his shirt.
Fully naked, he was a beautiful animal – warm skin poured over muscle, big and hot and tight, the proof of his arousal thick and long and deliciously hard for her. The shaft rose proudly from a neat thatch of dark hair over a heavy sac, the wide head rosy and glistening, promising pleasure and more pleasure and more pleasure. No wonder women threw themselves at him all the time – he should be carved out of marble, gracing a museum pedestal somewhere.
Evie frowned at the thought of his other conquests. Noting that her fingers had stilled, Colin pried his eyes open. His hazel eyes were predatory and very, very hot.
“Problem?”
Casual and meaningless, Asher. Who cares if he’s got the sex life of a horny tomcat? Just get him out of your system. That sounded kind of rational, Evie thought. She squeezed the throbbing flesh in her palm again and he groaned, thrusting up into her hand, filling her with satisfaction at his helpless reaction to her touch. All mine.
Okay, less rational.
“Didn’t I tell you to strip?” Colin’s voice was soft, but unmistakably commanding.
Evie waited for her hackles to rise as they did when Jack bossed her around in the bedroom. She’d preferred him courteous and charming, and his attempts to dominate always left her feeling uncomfortable. With Colin, all she felt was a humiliatingly intense rush of heat to her throbbing clit that left her confused and wary.
But she had no time to examine the feelings, because he wasted no time, stripping off her shirt himself and twisting the front clasp of her bra, peeling back the cups. The righteous indignation she was trying to work up melted as he shaped her breasts with talented hands, rolling the nipples to hard, aching peaks.
“Fucking sweet,” he murmured, and captured one nipple with his mouth to drive her mad with hot, wet suction and gentle scrapes of his teeth.
Her knees buckled at the sensation and the harsh, sexual tone, and the next thing she knew, Colin was moving them into the bedroom, leaving their pile of clothes on the hallway floor. Inside, he kicked the door closed and wrenched the quilt back from the bed before lowering her to the mattress. He reached over to turn on the bedside lamp and the room was flooded with soft light. Propping himself over her, Colin returned his attention to her breasts, his cock a rigid length against her thigh.
