She stirred at his touch. “Hi.” She blinked unwilling eyes. “I fell asleep.” Her small hand turned against his, locking their palms.
A shock of victory blazed through him at her small acceptance. “Time to go back to the hotel. Can you walk or would you like me to carry you?” he teased, feeling much too light for the day they’d had.
“Both?” She squinted up at him with a lazy smile.
He tamped down a broad grin and stole another look around the room before leaning closer. “I wouldn’t mind carrying you, but I think that might get some rumors started.”
Across the room, West headed into his office with a smirk.
The haze of sleep fell from Marissa’s face, and her smile went flat. “Sorry.” She freed her hand from his and used it to straighten her hair and shirt, then to wipe the corners of her mouth and eyes.
Blake returned to his side of the desk, unsure what had happened in the moment between her dreamy hello and near-instant recoil. Had she initially mistaken him for someone else? Had he offended her by being overly playful on what must be the worst day of her life? He made a trip around the room while she got her bearings and gathered her things.
Once his team had their orders, he leaned against the doorjamb of West’s office and waited for his brother to take notice. “We’re headed out.”
West dropped his pen onto the desk and stretched. “Sounds good. If I get anything substantial, I’ll route it in your direction. You need anything else?”
Blake relaxed against the cool metal frame. “Besides Nash Barclay in cuffs or a pine box? Not really.” And preferably neither. Nash didn’t deserve the life sentence he’d get for his crimes. Hell, he didn’t deserve a pine box. What he needed was to be kicked into the lake and assigned the same fate he’d given those poor women.
West interlocked his fingers behind his head, elbows pointed skyward. “We’re going to get that done, brother.”
Marissa appeared in Blake’s periphery, emerging from the restroom and looking somewhat revived. Her hair was split into low pigtails and arranged over her shoulders, probably to mask the marks on her neck. Her cheeks were pale with exhaustion and a swath of loose hair fell over her bruised cheek. “Are we still leaving?” she asked, stopping inches from his side.
“Yeah.” Blake shook the vengeful thoughts from his mind and refocused on the beauty before him. She needed words of hope and comfort, not a list of ways he wanted to see Nash punished. “West and I were just wrapping things up.”
West rocked out of his office chair and moseyed to his filing cabinet. “I was just telling Blake that I’d pass along any information that seems solid. You guys both look like you could use some sleep.” He opened the bottom drawer and tossed a duffel bag at Blake. “I got you something.”
Blake pulled the zipper back. “What is it?”
“I brought you a couple changes of clothes and stopped for some basic bathroom stuff. I thought you could use it.”
Blake had left Louisville the moment West called yesterday morning. He’d torn out of town with one thing on his mind, and it wasn’t a change of clothes or toothpaste. “Thanks, man.” Now, he wouldn’t have to make a stop at the store for those things. He could stay on task.
Marissa fidgeted beside him, eyes fixed on West. “No word on my sister?”
West’s gaze swept to Blake, then back to Marissa. He shifted his stance and seemed to weigh his words. “Nothing yet, but remember it’s only been a few hours, and if not for the picture Blake found, a four-hour absence wouldn’t be cause for concern. We’re on guard because of it, but the truth is that photo wasn’t taken today. Based on background structures and foliage, I’d say it’s at least three months old and shot at a crowded event. The image could’ve been pulled off the internet. It could be nothing more than psychological warfare aimed at you or Blake. We just don’t know.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “Of course.”
Blake curved a protective arm over her shoulders and narrowed his eyes on West.
He shrugged. “What?”
Blake wasn’t the only one in the family who was better off keeping his mouth shut. Psychological warfare? Way to make an already terrifying situation worse. He shook his head at West, and ushered Marissa toward the front door. Everything West had said was true, but Marissa wasn’t a lawman. She hadn’t signed up to live in this world, and she didn’t need to hear all the ways a man like Nash Barclay was likely to taunt her.
He fought an unstoppable yawn. West was right about something else, too. Blake and Marissa both needed some sleep.
It was only a matter of time before Nash struck again.
* * *
THE DRIVE UP the mountain was beautiful. Blake took it slowly enough for Marissa to enjoy the gently swaying trees and familiar bends in the country road. The sky was a glorious mix of apricot and amber, bringing harmony and peace to her cluttered mind. She dragged a fingertip over the passenger window. “I appreciated what your brother said back there.”
Blake slid his eyes her way, then back to the road. “Yeah?”
“It probably looked like he upset me, but that wasn’t it. That was the first time anyone has reminded me that there are other alternatives to this for Kara. There’s still a chance she’s out there doing something completely normal with plans to go to Mom and Dad’s place as soon as she finishes.” Marissa just wished she could think of a few reasonable possibilities. “She’s carefree to the extreme. Sometimes a little flighty, but she’s smart. Just young. I said there was a fugitive in town. She wanted to hike, so she probably left town to do it. She’s like that, and I like thinking that she’ll still turn up today, happy and unscathed.”
Wisps of feathery gray clouds flitted into view as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. Barely after five o’clock and the world was already tinted by night’s approach. Whatever Kara was doing, she’d have to wrap it up soon. There was barely an hour of sunlight left.
Blake slowed for the turn at the resort entrance. “I used to ski here. The slopes are nice.” He cruised between large stone columns marking the final leg to their room on the hill. “Do you ski?”
She made a show of rolling her eyes and gave a small smile. “Of course. I’m a little impressed that you do.”
“I’m not any good.”
Marissa doubted that. “Did you know there are some beautiful caves on this side of the mountain? I’ve actually spent a lot of time here spelunking. I’ve gotten some amazing photos for the effort.”
“What kind of caves? Bear caves? Bats?”
“Probably both, but I didn’t run into either. The caves’ mouths are fairly well hidden by natural camouflage, jagged rocks, clay, that sort of thing. If you ever have time, you should see for yourself. The moss is gorgeous near the mouths, and the ecosystems inside are fascinating.”
He squinted through the windshield, presumably trying to see a hidden cave from their position on the road. A moment later he passed the hotel without slowing.
“What are you doing?” Marissa twisted for a view of the lodge sign disappearing behind them.
“I’m buying you dinner.” He pulled off at an old diner just outside of town. “Ever been here?”
“Not since I was young. We came here for ice cream after softball games.”
Blake loped around the front of the truck and opened her door. “Us, too. Baseball, then peewee football. I think we were here every Friday night for a decade.”
Marissa smiled, filled with nostalgia and renewed energy. “I bet we were here at the same time once or twice. I would’ve been in middle school during your last few visits.” She liked knowing Blake was from her hometown. There was a certain camaraderie in loving the same beautiful place and sharing childhood memories of the same locations.
He escorted her inside with a hand on her back and chose a table against the far wall.
; The place hadn’t changed. It still smelled of stale black coffee and apple pie. Same brown tile flooring and cracked orange-vinyl seats. A bar ran the length of the narrow rectangular space.
Blake’s gaze made a continuous circuit through the parking lot and across the front door as the waitress took their order. Chili and coffee for him, chicken noodle soup and water for Marissa. Though she doubted she could eat anything until she knew Kara was safe.
She checked the large oval clock above the counter. “Kara should be home anytime. There’s nowhere to jog or hike after dark.”
Blake shifted forward in his seat, sliding his arms over the table’s cool surface, and clutched her trembling hands in his steady ones. He stroked the warm pads of his thumbs over her skin. “We’ll find her.” There was fierce promise in his eyes.
Marissa’s worried mind began to settle, but her body was winding up once more.
Too soon, the waitress ferried drinks and meals to the table, effectively breaking Blake’s spell. He pulled his hands back to his sides and dug into the chili with gusto.
Marissa rubbed her hands together beneath the table, wishing she could trade the noodle soup for more of Blake’s confident touch.
He tapped a packet of crackers against the table, seemingly unaffected by the moment they’d shared. “When we met, you asked me if I’d always wanted to be an agent. Have you always wanted to be a nature photographer?”
She dipped a spoon into her soup, dunking a thick homemade noodle and releasing rich buttery scents into the air. “No. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.” Her cheeks heated immediately, wishing she hadn’t been so transparent with a man who would probably never have the time or desire for a family of his own. Not that her life plans would matter to him. She stuffed the spoon into her mouth before she said anything else she’d regret.
“That so?” His cheek kicked up. “Would you just put the baby in one of those backpacks and hit the trails?”
“Probably.” Marissa sighed. Leave it to him to make her feel completely normal about making family plans when she hadn’t been on a date in over a year. “That’s pretty much what my mom did with us. She never stopped moving, and neither have we. What about you? Did you always want to be a fed? You didn’t answer me before.”
Blake gave Marissa a long, careful look. “Nah. I wanted to be a judge. They have the real power to make things right. I can haul criminals in all day, but it’s the judges who make the big decisions from there.”
“But judges can’t do any good if people like you don’t risk everything to bring the bad guys in.” She tipped her head, trying to understand how someone went from wanting a seat behind a bench to chasing murderers. “What happened?”
He shot a guilty glance her way. “I went as far as finishing law school before the allure of the badge pulled me in.”
“Wow. That’s a powerful pull.”
“You have no idea.”
She imagined doing all the work it must’ve taken to complete law school, only to drop it all and go another way. Maybe protect and serve really was in the Garrett DNA.
“Dumb, right? I gave up a comfortable future for half the pay and ten times the personal injury.”
Marissa leveled him with her most sincere stare. “No. I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, doing exactly what you were called to do. You can’t put a price on that.”
His lips parted and his brows raised. “You have no idea what that means coming from you.”
She dipped her spoon into the steamy broth and smiled, enjoying the swell in her chest. Federal Agent Blake Garrett was nothing like any man she’d ever met. He had brains and brawn, as well as a little more of her heart every time they spoke.
* * *
MARISSA EXCUSED HERSELF to the ladies’ room, and Blake angled in his seat, attempting to keep an eye on both the front door and rear hallway. Two bites of chili later, he gave up and headed for the ladies’ room.
“Oh!” She started at the sight of him in the narrow hallway.
“Sorry.” He dipped his head forward to rub the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure if there was a rear entrance, so I thought I should keep watch by the door.”
Marissa looked strangely refreshed. She’d touched up her lip gloss and the baby hairs near her temple were speckled with tiny droplets of water.
She tucked a long blond strand behind one ear and smiled shyly. “I splashed some water on my face.” Her cheeks grew ruddy with the admission. “I looked awful.”
Blake doubted that Marissa had ever looked awful in her life. He watched with rapt attention as a small drop followed the curve of her jaw and traveled the length of her slender neck. Whatever she’d said next was lost to the thrumming in his chest. Blake drank her in with greedy eyes, from the flush of her skin to the gentle sway of her back. Marissa was breath-taking.
She moved slowly forward in the cramped space, stopping only when the toes of her shoes bumped his. “Please quit looking at me like I’m going to break.”
“I don’t think you’re going to break.” He raised his hand carefully, never taking his eyes off hers, allowing her every opportunity to back away like she had at the station when she woke. He was tired of fighting the urge to be closer to her, and she needed to know what she was doing to him. Her rejection would set him straight. It would put these ridiculous feelings to rest so he could start thinking of ways to keep her safe instead of ways to keep her near.
Her lids fell shut as the backs of his fingertips reached her cheek. He stroked the tender curve of her jaw before cupping it in both his palms.
The ache in his belly grew as he struggled to understand this thing that had taken hold of him from the moment she’d walked into his life.
Her lips parted on an intake of breath, and he strained against the need to taste them. He fought the crackling electricity coursing over his skin from hers, and he forced himself to think of the right thing. For Marissa.
“Blake.” Her eyes eased open. Were they heavy with desire? Or was he merely hoping?
She lifted her hands to his chest, sliding them gently upward to his shoulders.
The buzz of his phone nearly killed him.
She dropped her forehead against his chest and exhaled a gush of warm breath. “Sorry.”
“No.” Blake glared at the blasted phone, his heart beating like horses’ hooves against his ribs. “Do not be sorry.” He lifted a finger as he studied the phone’s small screen, then raised apologetic eyes to hers. “The coroner has preliminary findings.”
“Okay.” She inhaled deeply and squared her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
* * *
THE TRIP TO the coroner’s office was quiet. He couldn’t say where Marissa’s thoughts were, but his were back at the restaurant with her hands winding over his shoulders.
“Garrett.” An elderly man in a white lab coat greeted him at the front desk. “Your dad and I used to do this.” He motioned between them.
Blake tried to smile, but failed. What he needed now were facts. Niceties could come later when he knew all there was to know about Nash’s victims. “What do you have?”
“We’ve confirmed the identities of five of the six victims.” He handed Blake a file folder. “I’ve put copies of all our preliminary data in there for you.”
Blake scanned the pages. Four women were the victims whose families Blake had gotten to know in the course of his investigation. West had correctly identified the fifth victim as a recently missing jogger at the county line. “What about the woman who’d been down there longest?”
“That will take a while longer. She was in...” the man cast his gaze to Marissa before reaffixing it to Blake, “worse shape.”
Blake flipped between the listed causes of death. “The victims were all drowned.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Ice slid throu
gh Blake’s veins. He’d wrongly assumed that Nash had killed the women elsewhere and dragged them to their watery graves afterward. He winced at the memory of scuba weights near the tree where Nash and Marissa had fought. Nash would have drowned Marissa in the lake and dressed her there, along the bank or underwater. So, the veil left on her bed was strictly meant to antagonize her after she’d gotten away. Just like the suitcases left on her sister’s porch. Nash wanted to keep her afraid. Break her focus. Make her easier prey.
A sudden cacophony blasted outside the building. Marissa jumped at Blake’s side, curling against him for safety.
“It’s my truck alarm.” He smoothed a palm down the length of her hair and back before peeling her away. He pointed at the man. “Take her into your office and lock the door.”
Blake eased into the dark lot, gun drawn. The night was clear, and his truck undamaged, but a large white envelope was seated on his windshield. The sight of it turned Blake’s stomach. Five small words were formed in soaking red ink.
A gift for the bride.
Chapter Nine
Blake’s team and West’s deputies filled the small sitting room at the hotel. The contents of the mysterious envelope were spread throughout the room, some on the small table, others pinned to a corkboard borrowed from the sheriff’s department. The rest moved hand to hand through the room for inspection.
Together the stack of glossy surveillance photos was a quarter-inch thick, and Marissa was centered in each frame.
West sat on the edge of the sleeper sofa, elbows pressed against his knees. “He left them on your windshield?”
“Yep.” Blake paced the patterned commercial carpeting, struggling for focus, the dangerous heat of vengeance roiling in his gut. “Set off my truck’s alarm to make sure I knew he was there.”
Marissa sat with West on the sofa, feet tucked beneath her. “They’re just like the photo that someone took of Kara.”
Blake ground his teeth. “Not someone. Nash.” He swore before turning back to his brother. “He’s practically following me around and I can’t find him.”
Federal Agent Under Fire Page 10
