Close Enough to Touch (Rylee Hayes Thriller Book 1)

by Cade Brogan

  ***

  “It’s like you never left,” Rylee said softly. “For them, I mean.”

  “But not for you,” Kenzie responded, her voice trailing off, and her chest heavy with added weight.

  Rylee shook her head slowly. “No,” she responded, gently meeting her gaze. “How could it be,” she asked, “when everything’s different?”

  “Not everything,” Kenzie said, her lower lip trembling. “We still love each other.”

  “Yes we do,” Rylee agreed. “But even that’s not the same as it was.”

  Kenzie swallowed hard, turning away.

  “I don’t mean it’s less,” Rylee added tenderly, “I just mean it’s different.” She kissed her forehead and gathered her into her arms.

  “Different how?” Kenzie asked as a chill slithered up her spine.

  “I don’t know,” Rylee said softly, shaking her head. “Just forget I said anything, okay? It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

  “But I’m already worried,” Kenzie responded, peering into her eyes. “Different how, Rye?”

  Rylee shook her head, her lips pressing tightly together. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, “I guess it’s that the innocence is gone.” She took a breath, exhaling loudly. “I mean, talk about a cold, hard dose of reality,” she continued. “You left me, Kenz. You left me for a guy the day after we made plans to spend our lives together.” She bit her lip, her head continuing to shake slowly. “You left me and now you’re back after all these years with that guy’s thirteen-year-old baby.” She swallowed hard. “You say you never stopped loving me, but—”

  “I’m sorry,” Kenzie choked. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make things right.”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Rylee responded, clenching her jaw.

  “But I love you,” Kenzie whimpered. “God, you were my first. I’ve always loved you, Rye.”

  “And I’ve always loved you,” Rylee choked. “But see, that makes it all the harder.” She raked back her hair, turning away. “Because even with all that love, you left me because your parents or your preacher or somebody told you that you should.” Her breath caught in her throat. “How do I know you won’t do it again? How do I know you won’t trot off to church on Sunday morning and leave me that afternoon?”

  “I won’t,” Kenzie sobbed. “I won’t, Rye. I promise. You have to believe me. What do I need to do to convince you?”

  “There’s nothing you can do, baby,” Rylee responded softly, holding her close. “There’s nothing you can do but give it time.”

  ***

  In the early morning light, Rylee slipped her arm around Kenzie, gently kissing her neck and shoulders.

  “Mmm,” Kenzie moaned, waking, “that’s nice.”

  “Remember our first night?” Rylee asked softly.

  “Of course I remember,” Kenzie responded, catching her breath. “You came into my room saying your bed had collapsed.” She chuckled, arching back. “Likely story,” she added. “You probably had those slats perfectly positioned to collapse when you sat on the mattress.”

  “Mmm…I’ll never tell,” Rylee whispered, suckling her neck until she left a mark. “What else do you remember?” she asked quietly.

  “I remember your kisses,” Kenzie murmured, nudging Rylee’s hand to her breast, and sliding it down her abdomen. “I remember waking up to the most incredible kisses down the center of my back.”

  “Like this?” Rylee asked, pausing to nibble where her spine curved in at her waist.”

  “God, yes…” Kenzie panted, biting her lower lip. “Like that…”

  “What else do you remember?” Rylee asked.

  “I remember you whispering, ‘I wanna make love to you’ in my ear,’” Kenzie said, catching her breath. “Oh God,” she whimpered, licking her lips, opening, and arching back. “And then you did,” she added, “and I’d never experienced anything like it in my life.”

  “Yeah, I remember that too,” Rylee murmured, planting a string of soft kisses across her butt and down her leg. “Mmm, so nice…You like reruns?” she asked.

  “Oh God…yes,” Kenzie said.

  “So,” Rylee whispered, “I wanna make love to you.” She licked around and in her ear.

  And I want you to come,” she added, “hard like you did that night.”

  “Oh God,” Kenzie panted, “Oh God, Rye, yes.”

  ***

  Joanna awakened, rejuvenated by adrenaline. Her eyes snapped open, wide, round, and unblinking as warmth radiated through her body. She bit her lower lip as the morning’s first rays peeked beneath the shade of her bedroom window. It would be an amazing day. They all were, the ones where she got to dispatch someone. There was no single activity that she found more gratifying than killing. It had always been that way. Sometimes the high would last for days, weeks, or months. Her thoughts scattered and she forced herself to concentrate. Unlike the others, this day would be a regular workday. She’d conduct an autopsy, dictate two reports, interview a potential intern, and meet with Detective Hayes. She’d do all of that before extinguishing Kenzie. She bottled her breaths in a useless attempt to contain her elation. Like a kid on Christmas morning, she eagerly awaited her next killing.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Okay,” Rylee said, furrowing her brow, “what’ve we missed?”

  “You talking to me?” Rich asked, looking up from his keyboard.

  “Sorry, no,” Rylee answered. “Just thinking out loud.” She shook her head, meeting his eye. “Just trying to figure out where we need to go next on the serial case.” Her stomach hardened. “Last day before the weekend, you know?”

  “I know,” Rich responded quietly, closing his laptop. With a breath, he tipped back, and made eye contact. “Okay,” he said, “so let’s talk it out.” It’s what they did when they were treading water.

  “Yeah, that ought to help,” Rylee said, opening the file jacket, and scanning down the first page. She blurted out, “seeds,” shaking her head. “Unfortunately, they’re as common as hell,” she added.

  “Goes to M.O.,” Rich said, “And all from this part of the country,” he added.

  Rylee nodded, saying, “Yep, modus operandi for sure. She switches-up poisons and probably travels to get ‘em.”

  “Footprints,” Rich tossed out, washing down a chocolate éclair.

  “Made by expensive, women’s athletic shoes,” Rylee added. “Also common, but whoever buys ‘em has to be able to afford ‘em.”

  “Good point,” Rich responded, jotting down something in his notebook. “Probably a professional,” he added.

  “Or a professional takes care of her,” Rylee countered.

  “Hmmm,” Rich said, wrinkling his brow. “Another angle. She could be right under our nose. Maybe some rich guy’s wife?”

  Rylee lifted an eyebrow. “Or some rich woman’s,” she countered.

  Rich chuckled, saying, “Good point.” He looked off, coming back with, “Deep ones seem to always be near water meters.”

  “Yeah, she likes to catch ‘em in the shower,” Rylee responded, curling her upper lip. “And watches until the water starts running.” A sour taste rose up from the back of her throat. “She’s one sick bitch if you ask me,” she added, exhaling, and looking across. “You get the feel it’s sexual?” she asked.

  “Dunno yet,” Rich answered. “No sign either one was touched.”

  “You mean penetrated,” Rylee corrected.

  “Yeah, penetrated,” Rich responded, shifting in his chair. “You think it’s sexual?” he asked with a hesitant lift to his voice.

  “Maybe,” Rylee said, pensively. “I don’t know yet.” She swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Kenzie,” she added softly.

  Rich looked up, holding her gaze. “You don’t know that,” he said. “All you know for sure is that the victims knew her.”

  “That’s bad enough,” Rylee said with
another breath and a bite to her lip. “The church,” she blurted out. Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe there’s some connection between religion and the killings?”

  “That’s a leap, but maybe,” Rich said, adding, “her calling card’s weird.”

  “Yeah,” Rylee responded, frowning with a shake of her head. “Who ever heard of a raspberry bramble as a signature?” Her breathing hitched as she wondered what it meant. “You think she’s just into plants?” she asked, her voice slowing, “or do you think there’s more?”

  “Maybe more,” Rich said, shaking his head. “Dunno yet.”

  Rylee booted her laptop, pursing her lips, and mumbling, “I think there’s more.”

  Rich stretched upward. “You got an idea?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Rylee answered, biting her lip as she typed, ‘Bible and brambles,’ “I just want to check something.” Her eyes widened. “Well, would you look at this,” she said. “Says here that there are five Bible verses about brambles.” She read them aloud, finishing with a slow shake of her head. “But how’s it tie in?” she asked as her fingers once again danced across the keyboard.

  Rich cocked his head, watching her.

  “Okay,” Rylee continued, “so I just Googled, ‘bramble as a Christian symbol.’” Her words halted as she read silently.

  “You find something?” Rich asked, leaning forward.

  “Maybe,” Rylee said, frowning. “Says here that brambles are a sign of purity.”

  “Okay…” Rich responded, shrugging his shoulder, and clearly not seeing the connection.

  Rylee looked up, holding a breath. “Our victims,” she said, “they’ve all been biracial.” Her heartbeat raced and she felt pain in her chest. “All of them,” she added, her voice fading to black. She swallowed hard, vowing to not let Kenzie out of her sight on Sundays until the serial killer was caught. She sucked air to the bottom of her lungs, sitting up straight. “Let’s check with the FBI,” she added. “Maybe they’ve run across similar cases.” They’d done it before, but hadn’t mentioned a possible religious, racial purity connection.

  “I’m on it,” Rich said, picking up the receiver. He lifted it several more times before saying anything further to Rylee. “Got similar unsolved cases in Boston, Saint Louis, and Madison,” he reported. “I talked to Saint Louis and Madison. They have less than we do. Left a message for Boston to call you.” He cocked his head, smiling, and adding, “Since I’m off.”

  “Lucky dog,” Rylee responded, smiling back.

  “Don’t know about lucky,” he said, shaking his head. “Moving’s not fun.”

  “Yeah,” Rylee countered, “but you’ll like getting your kid and her baby settled into their new apartment.”

  Rich nodded, saying, “That I will.”

  “Boy,” Rylee said, loading her satchel, “wouldn’t it be a windfall if Boston had something that put us onto her?” She looked over to catch his eye. “Care if we swing by the church?” she asked. “I want to take a look at one of the old videos.” She shook her head. “Bugs me that we haven’t been able to get a good look at that woman.” If this didn’t pan out, she’d take another look on Sunday morning. “You know, the one that was by Sally, and then Jodi, and now Kenzie.” She swallowed, adding, “I’ve got a bad feeling about her.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Rich said, meeting her eye, “Let’s drive separately, okay? That way, I can head on home.”

  “Okay by me,” Rylee answered, adjusting her holster, and slipping on her jacket.

  ***

  Rylee glanced over, smirking as she looked away. “God,” she muttered, “don’t they have anything else to wear?”

  “Guess not,” Rich responded, shaking his head. “Nothing but red and purple in this place.” He nodded toward the coffee bar. “Want a cup?” he asked.

  “No,” Rylee answered, her lip curled at the corner. “I can’t stand to give ‘em business.” She shook her head. “Six days a week, Kenzie comes here,” she continued, her head continuing to shake. “Every day but Saturday.” She sucked in air, adding, “I don’t get it.”

  “I’ll just get something at home,” Rich said, turning to head for the office.

  Rylee’s mood lightened, walking by the glass panes, and stepping up to the counter.

  “Well, hi there,” Kenzie greeted, smiling with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “You didn’t tell me you were gonna stop by.” Her voice lowered, biting her lip. “I was hoping you’d at least call.”

  “It was a spur of the moment decision,” Rylee responded, smiling back with firm eye contact. “And I definitely was gonna call.”

  Kenzie turned to Rich, smiling, but not as widely. “Good to see you again, Detective Winters.”

  “It’s Rich,” Rich responded. “You two are gonna have to come over for a cookout sometime.”

  Kenzie’s eyes sparkled, darting to Rylee.

  “Yeah,” Rylee said, nodding, “just shoot us an invite.”

  “I’ll do just that,” Rich responded.

  “We thought we’d take a look at some of the older videos,” Rylee continued, meeting Kenzie’s eye.

  “They’re in the pastor’s office,” Kenzie responded. “I’ll get them.” She paused, looking back, and smiling. “Or better yet, maybe you’d like to watch them in there.

  “Oh that’s right,” Rylee said, “he’s on vacation until Monday.”

  “He is,” Kenzie responded, adding, “it’s my chance to catch up.” She was so efficient and organized. Rylee exhaled, shaking her head so as not to be noticed. Talk about getting a bang for your buck. Just one more semester and she’d have finished college. If she’d held off, just one more semester, everything might’ve been different.

  “You want coffee, honey?” Kenzie offered, smoothing her summer dress, and smiling.

  “Yeah,” Rylee responded, smiling back. “For both of us.” She popped in a video as a steaming pot, a pitcher of cream, and sugar packets appeared on the table. “Thanks,” she said with a wink. “We drove separately,” she added, “can I take you to lunch?”

  “You bet you can,” Kenzie answered, her eyes still twinkling from earlier that morning. “Holler if you need anything else,” she added. “I’ll be at my desk.” She stepped out, but turned back around. “I put out two months back from where you left off,” she said. “Just let me know if you need more.”

  “We will,” Rich said. “Thanks.”

  “We probably won’t though,” Rylee added, pressing play on the first one. Two months-worth would either be enough to see the woman—not quite a person of interest, but close—or not.

  “Well, that was a waste,” Rich commented as Rylee ejected the last one.

  “It was,” Rylee said, “but we had no choice.”

  “Nope, none at all,” Rich responded, adding, “See ya on Monday.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rylee dabbed Vicks under her nose, returning the small container to her pocket before stepping through the interior door of the Medical Examiner’s Office.

  “Afternoon, Detective,” the receptionist greeted, smiling widely.

  “Afternoon,” Rylee responded, smiling back. “So, how many days do you have left?” she asked.

  “Fifteen, counting today,” the woman chirped, playfully gyrating her shoulders.

  “Final countdown, huh?” Rylee said, her eyes widening. “I’m happy for you.”

  She caught an unanticipated whiff of something and swallowed.

  “Thanks,” the receptionist said, her eyes sparkling. “I can hardly wait. Oh, and did I tell you my husband’s taking me to Paris to celebrate?”

  “You did,” Rylee answered, smiling broadly. “That’s terrific. I know you’ll have a great time.” She cleared her throat, planning to change the subject. “I’m here to see Dr. Grey. Is she available?”

  “It might be a few minutes,” the receptionist responded, “I think she’s dictating a report.”

 
“That’s okay,” Rylee said, “I’ve got time.” She perused the stack of magazines on the no-frills table before sitting down, selecting a copy of Field & Stream. She read an article on ‘hot new lures’ and one on ‘booze-laced carp bait’ before the door opened.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Joanna greeted, her gaze lingering uncomfortably—again. She was pretty but odd as hell. There was something about her though, something familiar, something that Rylee just couldn’t put her finger on.

  “No problem,” Rylee responded. Maybe it’s her hair, she thought. It was auburn like her mother’s. With that, she sprayed the crevices of her mind with a slick coating of guilt. You need to visit her one of these days, she told herself. If your grandparents can do it, you can too.

  “Come on back,” Joanna invited, nudging her glasses up the bridge of her slender nose.

  “Will do,” Rylee answered, falling into step behind her. God, she looked familiar.

  Joanna smiled thinly, making direct eye contact before settling into her chair. “What can I do for you, Detective?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as if studying her.

  “Got a couple questions,” Rylee responded. “About the Smith autopsy.”

  Joanna tilted her head, wrinkling her brow. “Smith,” she said slowly. “I conduct autopsy upon autopsy, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to give me more than a surname as common as that one.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Rylee said, shaking her head, “Of course you do. It’s Sally…Sally Dee Smith.”