by Lora Leigh
“This is what you need to see,” she said, picking up the remote that had fallen to the floor.
Pointing the device to the remote DVR, she once again programmed a series of commands.
“I found this last night.” The time stamp showed the night he had pulled Skye from the patio into the living room.
There were two different views of the yard, each with night vision and optional thermal imaging.
“Watch cameras three and four.” The picture began to zoom in on the images.
Camera three showed Skye slipping across the yard at the far end of the house, toward the front. Camera four showed a shadow moving along the edge of the house, closest to the patio.
“Camera five,” she said quietly.
The camera switched to thermal imaging, showing only a glimpse at certain points of the reddened outline of a male moving toward the patio. The figure stayed close to the house, ensuring that even with the excellent view the cameras could pick up that he was still un-identifiable.
As Skye neared the house, audio suddenly kicked in. The sound of the pup’s whimpers as Skye moved closer to the evergreens she hid in at the edge of the patio became more distressed.
“Your owner’s just an asshole, isn’t he, baby?” Crisp, clear, Skye’s voice would have been easy for the trespasser to hear. And there was no doubt that he had.
Pausing, the figure waited at the edge of the house, his identity hidden even as the camera focused on him.
“I would steal you away, sweetie, if you would go with me. All that crying at night is just breaking my heart.”
Frightened, the pup turned her head to the corner of the house even as she edged out of the shrubbery toward Skye.
Belly flat to the ground, her wrinkled face pitiful, the big brown eyes appeared larger in her fear.
“There you are, little baby,” Skye crooned. “Whoever was mean enough to give you to Logan should be kicked for not leaving you at my door instead.”
The pup suddenly growled ominously, despite her size. At the same time, the figure at the side of the house had begun to take another step forward.
The shadow paused at the sound of the growls.
“Don’t feel bad; I can’t get along with that mean ole Callahan either,” she said regretfully. “When I can’t get along with them, there’s just no hope for them. Your previous owner should be arrested for thinking such a little thing like you could have managed it.”
Slowly the shadow backed off and eased away.
“That wasn’t you.” Logan heard his own icy warning in his voice as he turned on her.
She had told him she had come around the front and sides of the house.
Why?
Skye shook her head quickly. “I slipped along the other side of the house, which is what I thought you meant, until I remembered exactly what you said that night. That’s why I pulled it up and ran the video back.” She waved at the monitor as the thermal image ran across the backyard to the stream that ran through it.
Jumping the stream, the intruder moved into the trees, weaving his way through them expertly.
“He was wearing night-vision goggles,” she informed them. “There’s no other way he could have traversed the woods that easily without them. It was too dark and he was moving too quickly to be doing so on his own.”
Logan had to agree with her.
Propping his elbow on the arm still crossed over his chest, Logan stroked the short growth of beard next to his lips with his fingers as he nodded thoughtfully.
Still following the figure as he made his way up the mountain, Logan noticed the thermal image didn’t fade out, it simply disappeared.
He jerked back and turned to stare at Skye.
“Noticed that, did you?” Her gaze flickered with anger now. “Yeah, he just disappears. There’s no thermal indication of a vehicle, and to my knowledge the only way he could have simply disappeared like that is—”
Logan finished the sentence, “Some sort of natural barrier between him and the cameras.” He turned to Crowe.
Logan’s cousin knew the government land in and around Corbin County better than anyone else Logan knew.
“I’d have to map the exact location, but the natural barrier is possible.” Crowe nodded thoughtfully. “So is a cave system. There’s always been talk of several of them around here that possibly connect to those on Crowe Mountain, but so far I haven’t seen them.”
“You were just going to keep this from me?” Logan asked Skye. “You found this last night and didn’t even think to inform me of it?”
That brow snapped again. The arrogance of the action was something he rarely saw in a woman. In Skye, he was damned if he didn’t like it.
“I would have contacted you either tonight or tomorrow.” She lifted her shoulders carelessly. “If you recall, you rather rudely demanded I get out of your home the last time I was there. I wasn’t about to venture back until you had time to get over your little snit.”
“My little snit?” he growled.
“Your snit.” She gave a sharp nod. “And I didn’t inform the sheriff of the cameras for the same reason I didn’t ask permission to put them in.”
“The element of surprise,” Crowe murmured as he stepped closer to the cameras and began to study the ones recording real time.
“Which raised the question, why did you feel you needed them if you weren’t watching us as potential suspects in the Slasher’s crimes? And what the hell makes you think you can play the bad assed FBI agent and risk your life without so much as a partner for backup?”
Skye’s expression was anything but emotionless now. Her eyes grew damp for a moment before she blinked back the sorrow he glimpsed there, as well as the need and the hunger, for him.
“Because the moment I met you, Logan, I knew I wanted you. And I want more than one night. Amy didn’t protect herself when she began the investigation. She didn’t notify anyone in the agency that she was on the investigation to ensure she had backup if it was needed, and if she kept operation notes then none of us found them. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes.”
Logan could feel his guts clenching in dread. Just as he’d suspected, she was there to investigate Amy’s and the other victims’ deaths. Skye was looking for a killer, and like Amy, once she found him, she wouldn’t live to regret it.
“At least she was trained for it. You’re nothing but a paper pusher in the agency. Do you think I don’t have my own contacts?” Logan snarled, unable to hold back the fury that the thought of her death sent racing through him. “It’s a great setup.” He waved his hand to the monitors. “They won’t fucking keep you alive any more than the training Amy got at that fucking academy kept her alive. Go home, Skye!” His voice didn’t rise this time, but Skye flinched at the rage building in it anyway. “For both our sakes get the hell out of Corbin County.”
Her lips had parted to argue, to present her case, when he suddenly turned and stomped out of the closet.
The puppy’s excited bark at seeing him was followed by a small whimper and, seconds later, the hard slam of her bedroom door.
Once again, she flinched.
She’d never known nerves while on assignment. She’d played prey to stalkers since her first assignment, and she’d never had her stomach jerking with any sort of fear.
It was jerking now.
Turning to Crowe, she stared back at his somber expression for long moments before whispering, “He won’t even listen, will he?”
He didn’t want her to deceive him, but he didn’t want the truth either.
She was no paper pusher.
Crowe shook his head. “This isn’t a job for you, Skye,” he breathed out roughly. “You’re too soft. Too easily broken.” He followed Logan then, though Crowe’s exit from the bedroom was done more quietly.
Clenching her teeth, she moved quickly and followed them, catching them in the kitchen as they neared the back door.
“The Slasher found Marietta in Bould
er.” They both stopped. “My own search has turned up two other lovers Logan’s had since returning to Corbin County. Ellen Mason in Grand Junction and Jenny Perew in Mount Sterling.” Logan’s eyes narrowed as he became so dangerously still Skye felt her mouth drying. “If I found them, Logan, then the Slasher already has.”
“And how did you find them?” Even the puppy stilled now at the sound of Logan’s voice.
“Research,” she admitted. “Phone calls to the bars and restaurants you’re known to frequent and asking the right question that indicated I knew what I was talking about.” That and some help from the same friend who had helped her set up the security room. “I finally got their names last week. If anyone had followed you—”
“No one followed me,” he snarled.
“I did once,” she admitted. “You didn’t lose me until you actually got into Laramie city limits. I stayed as far as possible behind you and risked losing you several times. But you didn’t lose me. If I leave tonight, it’s not going to change anything. I’ve alibied you. Gossip is already swirling. If you couldn’t hide Marietta, Ellen, and Jenny, then there’s not a chance in hell I can hide when I return to Denver!”
Logan stared back at her, so still and silent that the only sign of life was the enraged gleam of his emerald eyes.
She knew what he must be feeling, or at least understood it. He’d lost lovers, friends. He’d been the reason they’d died and he’d been unable to save them. Just as he was unable to protect his cousins now. To stand between them and a killer.
“She’s right, Logan.” There was a gleam of rueful acknowledgment in Crowe’s gaze as it met hers. “She’s in just as much danger if not more than Marietta was.”
“God damn that bastard to hell!” Logan’s voice was filled with fury, but his eyes, his eyes promised death. “Why the fuck did you involve yourself in this? Do you want to fucking die?”
Logan watched as Skye’s fists clenched at her sides, a deep-seated pain and anger pouring into her expression as she stared back at him.
“He killed my sister!” she cried out hoarsely then, blinking back tears. “Amy saved my life when my parents died. She stood by me and she looked out for me. He’s going to pay for taking her away from me.”
“He’ll kill you just like he killed your sister.” Logan knew the words were cold, brutal, but he had a feeling gentleness wasn’t going to work with Skye. He would be lucky, extremely lucky, if he could just convince her to show a little bit of fucking caution. “For God’s sake, I can’t believe you placed yourself in danger like this,” he continued as he thought about it and Skye remained silent. “Why the fuck didn’t you just stay out of it?”
“How can you ask me something so asinine?” she yelled back at him. “I knew why Sheriff Tobias showed up. The neighbors were talking about it before he even arrived. I knew they had found Marietta Tyme’s body and I was damned if I would see an innocent man pay for a crime someone else committed.”
“Why did you think I was staying the hell away from you?” Logan moved closer, forcing himself to stop at the small table with its heavy wood chairs surrounding it. Gripping the back of the nearest chair with fingers that paled at the force he used, he stared at her in recrimination. “Why, Skye, did you think I wouldn’t take you when I had the chance? Why I never fool with women from Sweetrock?” His fingers went ruthlessly through his hair. “God, I never imagined he would learn about one night in Boulder. Do you really want to become his next victim?”
“Do you really want to remain celibate the rest of your life?” she argued heatedly then, moving closer to him as her nails bit indentations into the skin of her palms, she was clenching her hands so tight. “Or continually watch your lovers die? How about just leaving the fucking county and giving up everything Rafer’s uncle helped you fight for until his death? What about Crowe?” She waved her hand toward him. “Or Rafer? If they’re really all you care about how do you think it’s going to affect you if that bastard finds Cami? What if he succeeds in actually killing her, Logan?” she cried out. “Could you live with it?”
“And what the fuck makes you think you can or will survive it?” He was almost yelling at her now. The rage at the situation, the fear that burned in his gut that the Slasher would target her, was eating Logan alive.
Skye smiled at the question. A smile of amused confidence and a challenge to fate.
“Because I’m no fucking paper pusher, Logan. I wasn’t just trained to survive it,” she informed him coolly then. “I’ll forgive your lack of confidence in me because I’m sure you don’t realize you have one highly trained, fully certified, class A, stalker-tracking Federal Bureau of Investigation agent right here in your corner.” She held her arms out in invitation. “Now, why don’t you do what any sane, reasonable man in your position would do? Use me?”
“Who said I was sane or reasonable?” He glared back at her. “You’ve lost your mind, Skye.” He couldn’t even find the will to yell at her now. A real man didn’t yell at those who weren’t exactly sane themselves, he told himself. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Skye?” he asked her again. He hadn’t received a credible answer last time, so he wasn’t really expecting one this time.
“Trying to help the three of you find the killer whose only intent is seeing you in prison for his crimes?” Her brow arched mockingly before continuing with facetious logic. “Why don’t you stop playing the Lone Ranger all by yourself? Let Tonto have some fun.”
“The Lone Ranger?” he questioned her in disbelief.
“Before your time?” She shrugged. “Sorry, darlin’, I watched the old westerns with Daddy Carter when I was little. How about He-Man? She-Ra just wants to play a little too, you know?”
His dick was steel hard. Blood was thundering through his veins, and rather than walking out of the house as he should have, all Logan could do was stare back at her incredulously.
There was a glimmer of anticipation and adrenaline in her eyes that was making him crazy. Crazy to have her.
He’d always steered clear of women in law enforcement or the military because they made him hard. Dominant, they made him think they were strong enough to do exactly what she was trying to do. Exactly what Amy had tried to do twelve years before.
Skye made him want to believe she was strong enough to tempt a killer and survive.
That perhaps she might even be strong enough to love Logan forever and survive it.
But Logan knew nothing lasted forever. Nothing lived forever. There was no such thing as immortality, not in life, nor in love.
Staring back at her, seeing her gaze, cool and confident, seeing the experience in her eyes, he wanted nothing more than to know it was possible.
Arousal was a hard, furious throb in his blood, mixing with anger. The sheer confidence in her gaze was like throwing fuel on the erotic flames. For a second, for the briefest second, all that mattered was fucking her.
He took a step toward her, intent on picking her up and carrying her straight to her bed and fucking her into exhaustion.
But nothing lasts forever. He could have her. He could take her just one time. Then he would have to force her out of his life.
Out of his life and perhaps, if he did it right, out of a killer’s sight.
And that was all that mattered. Keeping the woman who was becoming far too important to his heart alive.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Damn, Logan, didn’t we discuss staying out of the neighbor’s bed?” Crowe chose that moment to speak up mockingly. “We did discuss this, right?”
Skye glanced at Logan, then at Crowe knowingly. Of course they had. They were cousins. As he was the oldest, Crowe felt the need to try to protect Logan, and Rafer. But they were all fiercely protective of each other.
And now Logan was desperately trying to figure out how to protect Skye as well.
“Yeah, that neighbor of his, Mrs. Reisner, is a real wildcat I hear,” Skye said with a slight smile. “I don’t think Logan goes
for cougars, though.” Of course, Mrs. Reisner would have been appalled at this whole conversation. Maybe.
Crowe snorted with something less than amusement.
Watching him closely, Skye caught a glimpse of raging grief as he glanced at Logan before he pulled the sunglasses from the collar of his T-shirt and slid them onto his face.
Crowe’s grief was deep, dark. It pulled at the corners of his mouth and had created a shadowed, darkened bruise on the forest green of his eyes.
According to the psychologist she had discussed the cousins with, Crowe would be the one to just leave one day and go hunting the killer. And the good doctor had been certain. Once he found the Slasher, and the psychologist was certain Crowe would, then he would cause him to suffer in ways he’d never imagined hurting one of his victims.
With the killer’s blood staining his body, Logan would simply drift away, the doctor surmised. He just wouldn’t wake up. That or he’d become such a vigilante that making history would be the least law enforcement had to worry about where he was concerned.
“Yeah, it wasn’t Mrs. Reisner I was worried about,” Crowe assured Skye mockingly. “I believe it’s the redhead with more bravado than good sense to tango with a Callahan.”
“You tango?” Skye could play dumb all day if she wanted to and actually make it appear convincing. “Sorry, that wasn’t a dance my instructor taught me. The Texas Two-Step was his favorite.” Her smile was all teeth.
Logan shook his head. “I have things to do.” Looking around, he frowned. “Where’s that little monster? I just sat down!”
“The pup? You left her unattended in my house again? You were supposed to be watching her.”
This was a disaster in the making. Turning around, Skye searched the room quickly. “If she destroys more of my clothes, Callahan, then you’re getting me a whole new wardrobe.”
“She was right here under the table,” Logan growled as he began checking under end tables in the living room and in corners. “Little escape artist. She’s been trying to get over here for the past five days.”
All she’d tried to do as long as Skye had her was get to Logan.
