Marissa looked ill. “So, he’d actually started killing right away,” she whispered.
“Maybe. I’ll know more when I get the medical examiner’s official report.” Until then, everything he thought about what Nash had done to the victims was pure speculation, including the events on the day he killed them. Blake dropped his hands onto his lap and rubbed his palms together. “I think he attacked you and killed that jogger because I stopped trying to find him.” Sickness coiled in his gut. He glanced at Marissa, wary of what he’d see in her expression. “I’d put his case aside and resolved to make myself useful on active criminal cases. Then, this happened. I don’t think the timing is a coincidence.”
Marissa raised an eyebrow. “You think he somehow knew you’d stopped looking for him?”
Blake watched her carefully as he answered. “I think so. Yes.”
Someone knocked at the door. “Room service,” a familiar voice called.
Blake hoisted himself upright and went to check the peephole. “While you were in the shower, I put in a request for some food.” An agent with a bag of takeout and a giant umbrella stood at attention in the rain.
Blake thanked his teammate and accepted the meal before engaging the door chain and dead bolt once more.
Marissa pushed the files onto Blake’s empty seat and rubbed her eyes.
“Any more questions?” he asked.
“Why do you do this?”
Blake set the bag on the couch and dropped the stack of files onto the floor. “I thought there should be food here if you got hungry. We know Kara’s safe, so now maybe you can eat.”
Marissa pulled the bag onto her lap and extracted a salad and cup of dressing. “I meant, isn’t it hard to always be on the prowl for a monster? The people you go after are the worst of humanity, and I never gave them a second thought until yesterday. Not you, though. You chose this as your life.” She popped the lid on her container, looking baffled. “You all do.”
Blake moved the bag to the floor. He’d heard this before. “By all, I assume you mean my brothers and I.”
“Well, yeah, and your dad. You’ve all chosen careers like this. Isn’t it lonely and exhausting?”
“Tell me how you really feel,” he joked. “Please don’t hold back.”
Marissa smiled. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“Some families sing or sail or own horses. Garretts protect and serve.”
“And you all enjoy it?”
Blake took his time answering. Marissa wanted to know him, and he didn’t want to mess it up. “I think so. I do. I grew up in awe of my dad and uncles. They’re all patriots and veterans, and I wanted to honor that by emulating it. So, I followed their paths to the military after high school graduation. All my brothers did, too.”
“I think that’s beautiful,” she said. “Did you learn a lot in the service that helps you today?”
“I learned the importance of self-discipline, and I got a look at how bad life can be for some folks. Before that, I’d assumed my life in Shadow Point was the basic, standard issue stuff. I’d had no idea how great I had it here. I came home with a phenomenal appreciation for the freedom and profound safety in a rural American town. I knew I wanted to be a federal agent. I wanted to make more towns as secure as ours.” He barked a humorless laugh. A lot of good he’d done.
Marissa worked through her salad, bite by greedy bite. “You wanted to make a difference,” she said, pointing her fork in his direction.
He gripped the arm of the couch and tried to look less horrified at the amount of personal information he was unloading. “I know I’m not going to change the world. I don’t have the tools or capacity to cure cancer or end wars, but I can do my part to protect the lives of my cases.”
Marissa shifted her attention from her dinner to Blake’s eyes. “I think what you’re doing is noble. Most people wouldn’t risk their lives to improve the lives of others.”
He shifted in his seat, focusing wholly on Marissa. “I won’t let him touch you again.”
She pushed a hunk of lettuce with the plastic tines of her fork. “This isn’t your fault. No matter how it feels to you.”
Blake turned his face away. That was the kind of line he was supposed to give struggling victims and not the other way around. “Right.”
“Do you ever miss normal?” she asked. “Ever wish you had a safe job counting beans or raising chickens or something?”
“I hate chickens.”
She laughed. “No. Why?”
“Chickens are mean.”
“Chickens are adorable.” Marissa took another bite and chewed slowly. “Why do you think none of your brothers have ever married? Seems like having a family would be great for people like you.” The color in her cheeks deepened. “You’d have people to care for twenty-four seven. Not cases or strangers, but your people.”
She made it sound so simple. Blake teetered over the right way to answer a complicated question. “I shouldn’t speak for my brothers, but I think we’d all like to have a family one day. Lord knows our mom would love to have some women around. She wanted one girl and got four boys.”
Marissa set her fork aside and rested her hands in her lap, looking profoundly uncomfortable. “You all want families, but none of you date.” Her eyebrows knitted together.
Blake had fielded these types of questions all his life, and they never got easier. The assumptions people made always seemed to reflect poorly on him or his character, and a few years back he stopped trying to explain himself, and started throwing snide responses to keep people from pushing. The remarks had gotten a lot of lip service and their impact had stained his brothers, too.
He worked his jaw. He wanted Marissa to understand him, even if she didn’t like what she heard. “I’ve never been married because women don’t respond well to being left alone for indefinite, sometimes frequent, periods of time where I care for other women.” He motioned around them. “Alone in hotel rooms.”
Her eyes widened. “I can’t imagine being with someone I didn’t trust completely, but even then, trusting strangers with the most important person in your life is a whole other problem. That must be hard.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “You’ve been more than a comfort to me. Are you always this involved with the victims?”
Did he always hold their hands and embrace them as often as possible? Was that what she thought? He struggled to hold back a deeply frustrated groan. “No.”
He rubbed his hands against his thighs. Discussing all the times he’d been dumped for choosing work over a personal life wasn’t exactly easy, and the look on her face made it infinitely harder. “The women in my past have also taken issue with the number of secrets I have to keep and the injuries I regularly acquire. When I’m really unlucky, the secrets and injuries come in an inconvenient two-for-one package.” He lifted cautious eyes to hers, and wondered again if Marissa was the kind of woman who could withstand life with a lawman. “I’m single because I stopped dating the minute I realized none of it would ever lead anywhere as long as I am who I am, and I like who I am.”
Marissa’s wide eyes grew inexplicably sad. “I like who you are, too.” She set her half-eaten salad on the floor and tipped over, leaning her head against Blake’s shoulder. She slid her arm under his and bent it to lock them together. “I think you’re a brave and selfless man who risks his life to save others, and that’s pretty amazing. I’m...” A long yawn interrupted her words. “I’m glad you’re the one here with me tonight.”
Blake’s heart expanded until he thought it’d break his ribs. He wiggled free from Marissa’s grip and wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her closer and repositioning her head on his chest where she’d be more comfortable. He twined the fingers of his free hand with hers and gently kissed the top of her head.
Maybe he was asking for heartbreak by hoping there could be
a future with this woman, but damn it, a prize like that was worth the risk.
Chapter Fourteen
Marissa woke to the din of buzzing voices and scents of hot coffee, scrambled eggs and sausage. Someone had left a glass of orange juice on her nightstand beside a plate with an apple and enormous cinnamon muffin. Her tummy groaned at the sight of everything. She swung her feet over the bed’s edge and arched her back in a gentle stretch.
This was the time of day when her limbs longed to run. She worked her neck carefully side to side, assessing the damage and lingering ache in her head after being knocked out by Nash. She winced as her muscles locked down in defense against the movement. Too far. Too soon. Maybe after she found out what all the commotion was about, she could locate an ice pack and some painkillers.
She gulped the juice and bit into the muffin before sliding bare feet onto the floor. An angel had also left a bottle of aspirin. She took a pair of those, too.
Beyond her bedroom, the sitting area buzzed with chatter. She padded closer and peered through the opening where Blake had left the door ajar. Two agents and a deputy took phone calls around the small table. Blake’s palms were braced on either side of a topographical map. He was dressed in cargo pants, boots and a fitted long-sleeved black compression shirt. His badge swung over the image, as if it too was attempting to locate something.
Or someone.
“You found him,” she said breathlessly.
Blake’s head jerked up, and his gaze fell immediately upon her. He cut the distance between them with a look of excitement and purpose in his eyes. “Good morning,” he said softly.
Her toes curled into the carpet. “Hi.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Okay, considering. Thank you for putting me in bed. I barely remember getting there.” She’d fallen asleep on the couch with his strong arms around her and her head on his chest for a pillow. She hugged her middle, embarrassed by the happiness that memory brought her.
“I wouldn’t have moved you, but your neck...” He trailed off. Blake moved slightly to one side, blocking her view of the sitting room, successfully erasing everything except Blake and his intoxicating energy. “How are you feeling this morning?”
She forced a tight smile. “I’m fine. My neck’s a little stiff. Thank you for the breakfast and aspirin.”
His lips curved into a prideful smile.
“I mostly feel lucky. I’ve had a lot of prayers answered these last two days.”
“You’re about to get one more.”
“Why? What’s going on?” She glanced past Blake toward the map and men in the next room. Something big must have brought them there and gotten Blake so wound up.
“Dispatch got a viable tip on Nash at dawn. Someone saw a man fitting his description at the national park. He said the man appeared sick or hurt.” His eyes lit with the final report.
“You think it’s really him?”
“West is there now. Park rangers checked it out first and found a pretty heavy blood trail on the forest side of the lake.”
Marissa pondered the reasons Nash would return to the lake, but only found one. “He’s dying. I bet he wanted to be with the women again.” But they were gone now, no longer his sick trophies in an underwater tomb. Now, they would be laid to rest properly, given the peace and respect they deserved. “Would he drown himself to be with the women?” Wouldn’t he know they were already gone?
Blake rubbed his palms against her arms, then curled long fingers around her biceps. Excitement pulsated off him. “I don’t know, but I told West I’d meet him. I’m leaving a deputy with you. He’ll be outside, so you can take your time having breakfast and getting ready to go home.” He smiled at her. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
Marissa rocked onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. She’d miss Blake terribly when he returned home to Louisville, but capturing Nash was all that really mattered now.
“Moving out,” a man barked from the sitting room, and the area burst into a flurry of activity. Papers rustled and chairs bumped against the floor.
Marissa turned her mouth to Blake’s ear. “Go get him,” she whispered.
The front door opened and closed with a thud. “Let’s go, Garrett,” the same deep voice from her sitting room, now bellowed outside.
Marissa rested her palms against his chest. “This is it, Agent. Your time to shine.”
Blake was motionless. His grip on her tightened, and the look in his eyes nearly stole the breath from her body.
“Kiss for luck?” he asked. His gaze moved hotly from her eyes to her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He raised his warm hands to cradle the back of her head, and he lowered his lips over hers. “Yeah?” he whispered against her mouth.
“Yeah.” The heat from his touch moved through her bones, electrifying her skin and pooling in her core. She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and melded herself to him in confirmation. Blake deepened the kiss with a rumbling exhale, engulfing her in his strength and making delicious promises that he couldn’t stay long enough to keep. She reveled in the taste and feel of him, trailing her hands over his shoulders and winding her fingers into his hair.
Blake ended the kiss far too soon, leaving her weak-kneed and woozy. A haze of desire lingered in his eyes. “We should probably talk about that when I get back.”
She brushed careful fingertips over still tingling lips. “Then, hurry.”
A broad smile spread over Blake’s handsome face. “Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed his black jacket, then Marissa once more. “I’m finally going to put this devil in handcuffs.” He kissed her nose and forehead. “Don’t go anywhere.”
In the next moment, he was gone. Marissa watched as he strode through the door and joined a caravan of waiting cruisers and black government vehicles in the parking lot.
As promised, one deputy remained outside her door.
Marissa collapsed on the bed, reliving the perfect moment. Her heart had pounded so hard, she was sure Blake could feel it in his own chest. She’d waited all her life to be kissed like that. It wasn’t awkward, or polite and uncertain. It was passionate and comfortable and confident. Blake had kissed her with ease and familiarity, as if they’d kissed a hundred times before. As if he already knew what she wanted and how to give her exactly that.
She closed her eyes to savor the precious thought, but slowly, reality set in, raising her eyelids and putting her back on her feet. Nervous energy filled her mind with every form of worst-case scenario. She checked her phone for missed texts, then sent a few to her mom and sister letting them know that all was well. Nash was in the cross hairs, and she’d tell them more as soon as she knew something.
Both women responded within seconds, sending return texts of love and gratitude, complete with heart emoticons. Kara was clearly rubbing off on their mother.
With nothing to do but wait, Marissa finished her breakfast and helped herself to two cups of black coffee, then cleaned up. The clock seemed to stand still as she made the bed and returned the spare blanket from the couch to the closet. How long did it take to track a dying man through the forest in broad daylight? Blake and the team had been gone more than an hour already.
An ominous feeling crept over her, and she peeked between the curtains to be sure her detail was still standing guard.
She was overthinking. Worrying. Confusing the awful things that she’d experienced over the past few days with what was happening now.
She carried her loaner phone into the bathroom and climbed into a raging hot shower hoping Blake would call before she finished getting ready. The pulsing water and thick steam slowly unknotted tension in her neck and shoulders, but the temporary escape from her thoughts didn’t last.
She dug through her bag of hodgepodge clothing, smashed together and wrinkled
beyond recognition. The day she’d hastily gathered those things seemed like something she’d seen in a movie rather than a moment she’d been part of. Of course, Blake had been right to insist she go into his protective custody. Nash had been watching her even then. Standing right outside her window, taking photos and stalking silently from the tree line.
She swept a dose of mascara over her eyelashes and dotted gloss on her lips. Blake and West knew what they were doing, and so did their teams. They would get Nash, and the worst part about today would be saying goodbye to Blake when the case was closed.
Marissa wandered to the couch and checked on the deputy again before turning on the television. Maybe the local newscasters had information that she didn’t. Any form of update would go miles toward settling her worried heart.
A commercial for a local burger joint was cut short by the Breaking News logo. Marissa pulled her feet onto the couch and crossed her fingers for good news. Maybe even an image of Blake and West hauling their bleeding nemesis from the forest.
Instead, fire trucks filled the screen and the news anchor bobbed into view outside an inferno. “I’m here at the Winchester Farm where a propane tank explosion has rocked several acres and a number of nearby homes. The tank exploded suddenly while the family worked in a neighboring field. First responders can be seen administering triage, but there’s no official word on the number of injured or severity of their burns. The Winchesters’ youngest child, Emma Grace, has gone missing in the chaos and local deputies are searching the area on foot for signs of the missing toddler.”
The camera panned from the reporter’s face to the mess behind her.
“Hey!” Marissa scolded the screen. She squinted at the line of deputies moving slowly through the tall grass field. Those guys were supposed to be at the national forest helping Blake. The idea that this timing was too poor to have not been choreographed niggled in her mind.
She swiped her phone off the couch, and dialed Kara. “Tell me you’re okay,” she demanded at the sound of her sister’s voice.
Federal Agent Under Fire Page 15
