by Kris Norris
He gave her a hardened look. “That’s not the kind of shit I want to hear right now. Not when you’ve been living here, alone, for the last two years.” He held up his hand to stop further comments. “I know. I’m to blame for that. Just humour me right now, okay?”
She smiled and moved into his open arms. “It wasn’t just you, and I can assure you I’m not an easy target. But we should see if anything’s missing.”
Sawyer sighed. “I can’t believe someone would be stupid enough to break into our house. Shit, what were they thinking? If we’d caught them…”
Mallory nodded, following him through the kitchen and into the living room. She squinted as Sawyer flicked on the lights, blinking at the sudden glare. Nothing seemed out of place until she swung her gaze towards the bar. A small blanket was mounded on the counter, the edge of a knitted foot sticking out of one end.
Sawyer glanced at her, his eyebrow raised in question. “What the hell is that?”
“Not sure I want to know.” She moved beside him. “Do you want to do the honours, or should I?”
“Just stay back.”
He walked across the room, stopping an arm’s length away. He glanced back at her then grabbed one end, keeping his fingers near the edge. Mallory held her breath as he gently lifted the fabric, pausing halfway to look underneath. His loud curse made her jump as he snatched the blanket away, tossing it off to the side. She inched forward, unable to distinguish what the lump was until she got a few feet away. She inhaled roughly, staring at the old knitted doll with a manila envelope tied to the front with a sash. More memories tumbled through her head and she looked away, all too sure what was inside the beige offering.
* * * *
Sawyer opened the door, trying not to scowl at the man standing on the porch. A passing car cast a long shadow along the driveway, reminding him it wasn’t even three o’clock yet. Mallory stepped up beside him, elbowing him in the ribs as she smiled at the man.
“Fisher. Thanks for coming. I know it’s late, it’s just…” She sighed, motioning him inside.
Fisher gave her a smile, picking up his case as he stepped through the doorway. “It’s okay. I’d just gotten home, anyway.” He extended his hand to Sawyer. “I’d heard you were back in town. Good to see you.” He winked at Mallory. “I’d also heard Sawyer’s been staying in your spare room without bloodshed. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
Mallory laughed, though it sounded tight. “The case isn’t over, yet. Maybe I’m just lulling everyone into a false sense of security, so I won’t be the prime suspect when Sawyer goes missing.”
Fisher chuckled. “That sounds more like the Mallory I know.” He paused as he glanced at the next room. “Is it in there?”
Sawyer moved in behind Mallory, not sure whether to hold her shoulders or stay at a distance. Though he was certain Fisher had guessed at their current sleeping arrangements, joking aside, he didn’t want to put any pressure on Mallory. She’d more than stepped up for him, and he needed to give her all the time she required before making their renewed relationship common knowledge.
He brushed her hand then nodded at Fisher. “All I did was remove the blanket. Otherwise, we haven’t touched it.”
Fisher headed for the living room, glancing down the hallway before going straight for the bar. The doll still rested on the counter, the dull, grey fabric of the blanket heaped beside it. Fisher didn’t speak, just put down the case, pulled out his camera and started snapping photographs.
Sawyer watched him work, keeping an eye on Mallory. She hadn’t said much since he’d uncovered the doll, and he knew there was more to the offering than just the envelope. Dread settled in his gut. He had a bad feeling he knew what was inside.
Fisher straightened as he let the camera rest against his chest. He turned back to them, an apologetic half-smile curling his mouth. “I assume you’ve both noticed the detail in the setup—the way the sash is tied identical to all of Davies’ victims not to mention the drawn-on markings on the neck, wrists and ankles of the doll.”
“It was hard to miss.” Sawyer crossed his arms on his chest. “Though I don’t know why he picked a doll, not that I’m complaining. I half expected a severed head.”
Fisher cracked a slight grin, nodding at him. He looked at Mallory. “Any insight on the doll, Mal?”
Sawyer glanced at her, the sudden silence sending a cold shiver down his spine. Shit. He should have guessed the doll hadn’t just been a convenient medium for Davies to convey his message. He inched closer, palming the middle of her back when she sighed and toed at the floor.
“The doll was mine.”
“What?” Sawyer spun her around. “What the hell do you mean the doll was yours? From when?”
She held up her hand, looking them both in the eye before continuing. “I don’t mean it’s actually my doll, at least, I don’t think it is, it’s just…I had one. Identical to it when I was little, before…” She paused, glancing at Fisher before sighing and running a shaky hand through her hair. “Fuck. Why does it always come back to that night?” She huffed. “Long story short, Fisher—my father was a drunken wife-beater and my mother saw fit to finally deal with it by sticking a knife in him. Several times. And that…” She pointed at the doll. “Was all that kept me sane most nights. But I haven’t seen it since the cops dragged me out of that house.”
Sawyer tensed his jaw. He’d kill Davies or whoever was tormenting Mallory and he’d enjoy every fucking second of it. He laid his hand on her shoulder, but she simply shrugged and wrapped her arms protectively around her chest.
“I don’t know how Davies or his partner would know that. Hell of a lucky guess if you ask me.”
“We both know luck isn’t in this equation.” Sawyer met Fisher’s gaze. “Any thoughts?”
Fisher snorted. “Yeah, that whoever’s doing this is one sick bastard and the city would sleep far better if one of you put a bullet in his head.”
Sawyer grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Fisher gave him a smile, patting Mallory on her other shoulder again before looking at the doll. He smile faded into a frown. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that the envelope contains pictures, not some cryptic note.”
Sawyer clenched his jaw. “I’d say that’s an accurate assumption.”
Fisher nodded then glanced from the envelope back to them. He took a deep breath, shifting a bit on his feet before exhaling loudly. “Look, I think it’s safe to say that there are two possibilities here. Either the bastard has sent us detailed images of the crimes scenes, or…”
When he left the thought hanging, Sawyer raised one eyebrow. “Or?”
Fisher glanced at the hallway. “I’m more than aware of your guys’ history…including the personal side. So if these aren’t crime scene photos, I’m betting you’ve spent very little time in that spare room, the proof of which is chronicled inside this envelope.” He held up his hand to stop Sawyer from talking. “Yeah. I know. It could be a thousand other kinds of photos, but let’s face it. Pictures of the two of you would be the most damning, at least in a killer’s eyes, especially since your relationship is still somewhat guarded.”
Sawyer didn’t chance a gaze at Mallory, afraid his possessive side would surge forward and he’d puff up his chest like some primitive Neanderthal, professing ownership of his woman. Instead, he kept his expression fixed as he faced Fisher. “Somehow, I don’t think our guy broke in here just to leave some gory photos behind.”
Fisher nodded. “I have extra gloves. If you two would like to look at these privately—”
“Why?” Mallory stepped forward. “Even if there are personal images in there, it’s not like we can just discard them. They’re evidence…however revealing they might be.” She gave Sawyer a slight smile. “I just hope he got my good side.”
Sawyer reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “That would imply you have a bad one, darling.”
Fisher cleared his throat. “Sh
ould I leave for a bit?”
Sawyer scoffed and shook his head. “Just open the damn envelope.”
Fisher chuckled and turned to the bar. He undid the sash, pausing to take more close ups as he went. By the time he slid the flap open, Sawyer’s heart rate had tripled. While the thought of seeing Mallory in all her glory was alluring, these weren’t the circumstances he’d envisioned. And the idea that some creep had been stalking them—stalking her—boiled his blood.
Fisher backed up, holding the envelope so they could all see. “Ready?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just eased his hand inside and removed a set of prints. Sawyer studied the first one, not familiar with the surroundings.
Fisher sucked in a quick breath. “That’s from the first crime scene, shortly after you and Cole arrived. I believe the bastard in question hadn’t been dead more than a few hours at that point.”
“Anyone could have taken the photos,” said Mallory. “Or maybe someone set up a hidden camera. He could have hundreds of pictures from that night.”
“Whatever it is, it’s bloody creepy.” Fisher shuffled through a couple more, stopping at the next change of venue. He held it up to them.
“Shit. That’s the alleyway.” Sawyer leaned in closer. “How the hell did he get one in there when he was in front of us?” He fisted one hand at the next photo, looking at Mallory. “He got one of you fighting?”
He reached for the picture when Mallory grabbed his hand.
“Easy, Sawyer.”
He growled inwardly but pulled his hand back.
Fisher flipped to the next. “The bar. That I’d recognise anywhere.” He glanced at Sawyer then winked at Mallory. “Nice shiner. I bet Sawyer went ballistic over that one.”
She smiled. “He’s still touchy.”
“You both know I’m standing right here.”
Fisher chuckled, shuffling again, when Sawyer’s breath hitched. They were in the Jeep, Mallory’s sexy body on top of his. He could see the white of her lace bra and the creamy line of her hips brushed against the steering wheel. The only blemish was a single, bloody fingerprint dried onto the lower portion of the photo.
To Fisher’s credit, the man didn’t do more than arch an eyebrow before shifting his gaze to the fingerprint. He lifted the photo, taking a closer look at the raised ridges and swirls. “I’m thinking we all know whose print this is. But nice of him to leave me such a clean one.” He flipped to the next picture. “Got another one. Looks like a different finger, though.”
Sawyer didn’t hold back his growl this time. Another photo of Mallory, only this time her head was thrown back towards the windshield as he kissed the sleek column of her throat, nothing between them but the moonlight. “Goddamn.”
Mallory hit him in the shoulder, glaring at him. “At least it’s not your ass on display, or anything else, really, for that matter.”
“Darling…”
She held up her hand. “Don’t.” She sighed. “And it’s not that my ass is on display. It’s just… Fuck. The creep was watching us. The entire time.” She cringed when a picture of Sawyer carrying her inside, her body naked against his, surfaced next. “Seriously?”
Fisher cleared his throat, glancing at both of them. “If it’s any consolation, I promise I’ll be as discreet as possible.”
Sawyer paced across the room, wishing he’d grabbed a whisky before Fisher had arrived. “I doubt it’s a coincidence that the only photos with fingerprints on them are the ones of us, together.”
“Probably not, but…” Fisher paused. “Look. It’s not like most of us didn’t think you two were doing the nasty, so this isn’t all that shocking. Hell, there were even rumours going around that you guys had tied the knot.” He held up the collection of photos. “I’ll just keep these well protected until I’m finished processing them, then we’ll hide them away in an evidence bag. Very few people really need to see these.”
Mallory groaned, looking as if she wished the floor would open up and swallow her. “It’s not people knowing about us that’s the issue. It’s knowing he’s been watching us…all the time. Everywhere. First the alley, then my old house and now this! What the fuck is up with this guy?”
Sawyer cursed and moved over to her, pushing his chest against her back. He wasn’t sure whether she’d pull away and all but moaned when she leaned against him, releasing a heavy breath as he wrapped one arm around her shoulder and across her upper chest, allowing the other to rest on her hip. God, she felt good in his arms.
He pushed his chin against the side of her neck. “We’ll get him. Making this personal was a huge mistake, one that will haunt him. It’s only a matter of time before he does something he can’t recover from.”
She kissed his arm. “I’m free tomorrow if you’d like to catch his creepy ass.”
He chuckled. “Maybe Fisher can give us some good news by then.”
Fisher sighed. “I’ll do my best, but the photos look pretty clean, other than the obvious prints. But you never know.” He placed them back in the envelope. “I’ll get to them first thing—run the prints, see if the bastard left anything else. I should have something for you by noon.”
Sawyer nodded. “Thanks. We owe you.”
“No problem. What are friends for if you can’t call them out at three a.m?” He bagged the evidence and packed up his case then headed for the door, pausing at the threshold. “But in the spirit of giving, I gotta know…just between us. Did you guys really get married?”
Sawyer tensed, not sure how to respond when Mallory looked at him across her shoulder, a smile lighting up her entire face.
She gave him a wink then turned to Fisher. “Yeah. We really did.”
Fisher hooted and pumped his fist in the air. “I knew it.” He opened the door but stopped again and glanced back. “Are you still married?”
Sawyer welcomed the weight of her body as she leaned into him again, her hand lifting to cover his. It was the first time someone other than Cole had even mentioned it.
She laughed as she gazed up at him again, seemingly obvious to the fact Fisher was standing there, waiting. “Yup. We still are.”
Fisher smiled, and headed out, calling back over his shoulder. “I’m so winning the pool when you guys finally come out.”
Sawyer chuckled then sobered. “Wait! There’s a pool for that? Fisher!”
Mallory grabbed his arm as he tried to follow the man out the door.
She shook her head and closed it behind him, twining her fingers through his and tugging him towards the bedroom. “Of course there’s a pool. I took tomorrow at ten o’clock for when Cole stumbles back in.”
“Really? I took eleven. The man likes to sleep in a bit.”
She smiled again, and his heart dropped. God, she was just too beautiful when she smiled.
He stopped and pulled her into his chest. “You know you just blew our cover, right?”
“Those pictures blew our cover, not that we had very much of one. You heard Fisher. Everyone already knows. They’re just waiting on an official confirmation.”
“Which you pretty much gave.”
Her lips quirked up at one side. “Nervous of the truth getting out, darling?”
“You’re kidding, right? I had a neon sign made for just this occasion.” He eased away backing up towards the bedroom again. “Come on. I promised you I’d be your pillow for the night and I don’t want to break any more promises.”
Chapter Eleven
“Jesus Christ, Mal. I’m not here for a few hours and all hell breaks loose.”
Mallory looked up from the paperwork stacked on her desk as Cole shuffled to a halt, his left arm bound in a sling, his right stuffed in his jeans’ pocket. Dark smudges lined the bottom of his eyes, and his mouth was pulled tight at the corners.
She glanced at the clock, cursing under her breath. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Screw the pleasantries. Why the hell didn’t you call me last night?”
She
snorted and leant back in her chair. “It was three o’clock in the morning. You were in the hospital, which reminds me. Shouldn’t you still be there? I’m pretty damn sure I heard the doctor say something about twenty-four hours.”
He glared at her. “You’re the last person to preach about following orders. Besides, having the prime suspect of an ongoing serial murder investigation break into your house pretty much supersedes everything else. As it was, I didn’t know shit until Fisher called to ask me something about one of the photos.”
“I was going to tell you just as soon as you showed up, which I thought would be about an hour ago, by the way.”
Cole drew his brows together just as Sawyer tapped him on the shoulder. Cole turned, staring at Sawyer as the man handed him a coffee.
He nodded at Cole. “Actually, you’re right on time. Eleven even.” Sawyer flashed a smile at Mallory. “Told you he likes to sleep in.”
Cole stared at him as he walked past Mallory and sat down, crossing his feet at the ankles.
Mallory chuckled. “Come on, Cole. We both knew you wouldn’t stay. In fact, everyone knew you wouldn’t stay. Unfortunately, I took ten o’clock.” She motioned to Sawyer. “He took eleven.”
“Which means I win the pool.”
Mallory turned to him. “Feel free to stop gloating any time now.”
Cole held up his hand, stopping the conversation. “I’m not even gone twenty-four hours and you guys have a pool going? Damn, that was quick.”
Mallory outright laughed. “You know how much Fisher likes the chance at beating all of our asses. Speaking of which, did you enter the one on when Sawyer and I would come out for good?”
“No. Seeing as I had inside information, I chose not to. Besides, Fisher already had the spot I wanted.” Cole cursed then glanced at the coffee. He gawked at Sawyer. “I can’t believe you brought me coffee. That’s pretty smug.”
Sawyer shrugged. “Mallory isn’t the only one who knows you, buddy, which is why I just won the pool.”
