by Addison Fox
Even now she sat in her car at the edge of the parking lot. Out of sight and far away from the powerful overhead lights, she watched the various league members head to their cars.
How oblivious they all were. Going about their days unaware of how boring and dull and routine their lives really were. It made her smile, a small giggle bubbling in her throat. They were all so boring and uninteresting and they didn’t even know it.
Only Finn was different.
Only Finn understood her and would understand what life could be like between them.
Only Finn would take away this desperate clawing and craving that filled her chest, desperate to get out.
So she sat there in her car, waiting for Finn Colton to come out. As people filed out of the bowling alley, alone or in pairs, she knew none of them saw the woman watching them.
Chapter 8
Thick russet-colored fur bunched in Darby’s hands as she smoothed her palms over the German shepherd her vet had recommended to her last Saturday. Doc Cooper had vouched for the dog and had helped set up Darby’s meeting with the family selling her. Patience Colton, the vet at the K-9 center, had kindly offered them a backdrop for the meeting and had been more than willing to give a second opinion while also reinforcing the reputation of Darby’s business.
Satisfied, Patience got up off the floor from where she’d sat, performing her checkup. “I’m pleased to say this girl looks amazing.”
The owner, Mavis Whitley, smiled fondly as she looked down on the dog they called Lucy. “She’s been such a sweet girl. We just want her to go to a loving home and I’d love for her to be part of such a good program. Dr. Cooper spoke highly of your business, Ms. Gage.”
“I can promise you she’ll be treated like a queen.” Darby said.
“We’re very impressed that you’ve decided not to breed your other dog. Care for her health is obviously your priority and it makes us feel that Lucy will be in good hands.”
“Thank you.” Darby appreciated the kindness, but she’d never questioned the rightness of her decision. Her first priority was Penny—the business had to be second. She could only be grateful Finn had ensured she’d still have a business. Bringing home Lucy was the next step in that process. Of course, taking that step was predicated on a match with Penny.
Darby had brought Penny along, as well, and gestured toward a windowed play area. “I would like to introduce her to my dog, if you don’t mind?”
The Whitleys didn’t mind. In moments they had Penny and Lucy meeting each other in supervised play. Darby let out her first easy breath of the morning when the dogs cautiously sniffed each other before raising their paws and swatting happily in play.
“I think they’re on a path to being BFFs.” Patience took a spot next to her, her arms crossed, a satisfied smile playing about her lips. They’d known one another for a while, Darby’s work at the training center ensuring she’d spent time with nearly everyone there. Patience was one of her favorites, though.
“I’m just grateful we have a match. Lucy’s so sweet, and I’m not sure what I’d have done if she and Penny didn’t get along.”
“You’d try again until you found the right one.” Patience waved at the happily playing dogs, her love of animals clear in her smitten gaze. “You’re strong and determined that way.”
As compliments went, it was one of the nicest she’d ever received. “I’m not quite sure I agree, but thank you.”
Patience laid a hand on Darby’s arm, effectively pulling her attention from Penny and Lucy. “Don’t underestimate yourself. I know you’ve had a rough go for the past few years, but you’re strong and you’re solid and you’ve got a big heart. The universe loves those traits and loves rewarding them.”
The added compliment caught her so off guard, Darby could only goggle at the vet. Tall and pretty, Patience had an easy grace about her that was more boho than Red Ridge chic, despite being born with Fenwick Colton’s silver spoon lodged firmly in her mouth.
It was the warmth in her dark brown eyes that was the real clincher.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now—” Patience turned to watch the dogs at play but Darby couldn’t help feeling the woman’s attention hadn’t wavered. “Tell me about these hot date nights you’ve been having with my cousin Finn.”
* * *
Finn swung by the lab on his way into the precinct, the text he’d received earlier suggesting there was something that required his attention. The week had produced little news or evidence in the battle to find the Groom Killer. The fact that it was Friday—an entire week since Michael Hayden’s death—and they had next to nothing to go on, had only ratcheted up the pressure on finding the killer.
Finn had kept up his dates with Darby, taking her to another showy dinner on Wednesday night and a movie Thursday, but so far they’d been unsuccessful in attracting any unsavory attention. Which was a major departure from everyone else in town who had suddenly become fixated on the chief of police’s new love interest.
He’d gotten teasing comments from nearly every member of his family as well as several Gages. With the exception of Elle, his K-9 rookie, everyone in the Gage family had remained stubbornly skeptical, Carson’s suspicion over Darby ensuring no one in Bo’s family had mentally let her off the hook.
But adding on the general interest in town had become a bit much. That morning, in fact, he’d gotten questioned by Mae Larson while he’d waited for his coffee at Java Station. He’d always seen her as a sweet older member of the community, but her grandmotherly ways were surprisingly randy if the eyebrow wiggles she’d given him were any indication.
Did people really have nothing better to do?
Of course, their focus on his love life had helped some of the conversation die down over the Groom Killer. Even the Gazette had seemed to run out of headlines, taking a break and focusing on an impending snowstorm heading their way and threatening to dump over a foot and a half of snow.
While the snow was expected this time of year, it was only going to further ruin the crime scenes he and his team had run over and over throughout the week. The Groom Killer had chosen well, using the forests and thick covered ground that made up the edges of the town to an advantage.
The chase he and Lotte had given the week before over the terrain behind the Circle T Steakhouse had resulted in no discernible leads and they’d finally given the restaurant leave to reopen for business.
To further prove his commitment, Finn had booked a reservation for him and Darby that very night and the owner had agreed to give them the center table.
He was excited to see her again, the charade they’d kept up all week growing more and more intimate by the day. He knew he needed to keep his emotions in check, but he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed spending time with her. And while he hardly needed the public interest the two of them seemed to generate, he couldn’t find too much fault since big and showy had been his intention from the start.
He wasn’t so sure she felt the same.
It was subtle, but it was there. She’d yet to initiate anything intimate. That had been all him. And while he’d told himself the hand holding and the endearments and the kissing were all for show, in his quiet moments, he had to ask himself if that was the truth.
Mae Larson’s eyebrow wiggles aside, he couldn’t deny he enjoyed kissing Darby Gage.
A lot.
Brushing off the matter of Darby’s kisses, Finn took the long hallway that led to the lab, willing himself to focus on the matter at hand. He did have a killer in his midst and no amount of time spent with a pretty woman with gorgeous legs and enticing lips was going to change that.
More, if he was going to keep his head and his focus, he had to remind himself that dating Darby was all for show. The dates and the kisses were meant to draw out a killer, not allow him to forget he was hunting one.
He pushed through the heavy metal doors of the crime lab and found their resident lab geek, Charlie, outfitted head to toe in scrubs. Other than the four-inch heels she persistently wore, Dr. Charlotte “Charlie” Wallace looked like she was ready to march into a hazmat area.
“Doc.”
“Finn.” She turned from the microscope she peered into to face him. Dark eyes twinkled above a face mask and he looked down over his clothes before meeting her gaze once more. “I think I’m underdressed.”
“Not at all. I swung out here because I knew you were coming. I’m dressed like this for some work in the other room.” She pointed toward a door marked Do Not Enter and Finn wondered, not for the first time, what lived in the depths of Charlie’s lab.
“Everything okay?”
“Of course. Just some necrotic tissue I want to handle with care.”
Finn nodded “As one does.”
“Your gallows humor is noted. And appreciated.” Charlie waved to a point about halfway down the long counter that ran the length of her lab. “Come on over here.”
He followed her, admiring her tall, capable form. What caught him off guard was the quick leap he made to imagining Darby’s smaller, more petite curves in his mind. Instantly he recalled the feel of her beneath his palms and the fierce need that settled in his bones each time he kissed her.
“Finn?”
Charlie’s question pulled him from his musings. “Hmm?”
“You okay? You look about a million miles away.”
“Sure. Yeah, I’m good.”
Charlie pointed to a setup on the counter. “Here’s the bleach you brought me the other day and then the samples that were collected in the forest.”
“You’ve kept this under wraps?”
“Of course.” She tugged a pair of rubber gloves out of a box before handing the box to him to do the same. “I know how to manage an investigation and I’ve sent my notes to you only, as you requested. I’m not sure why Carson isn’t updated on these developments, though, as one of the lead investigators.”
“I want an unbiased opinion.”
Charlie’s dark eyes clouded. “You think he’s biased in some way?”
“I think investigating the murder of his brother is a sensitive topic. Where I can take some of the load off or tug a few leads that may be inconsequential, I want to do that.”
Her dark gaze remained sharp, but she finally nodded. “I’ll defer to your wishes, but don’t underestimate Gage. He’s a good man and he wants justice.”
“And I don’t?”
Finn knew the question was steeped in his unusual secretive approach to the bleach, which was all the more reason he needed to recognize it was possible he was losing his objectivity, as well.
“That’s not what I meant,” Charlie said.
Finn slapped the gloves against his thigh. “I know it’s not. And I know I’m not being fair.”
Charlie hesitated for the briefest moment, as if weighing something, before pushing forward. “Would this have anything to do with your recent attentions toward Darby Gage?”
Finn understood the hesitation—and waited a few beats himself before ultimately opting for the truth. He’d had tough cases in his past and the duties of chief often meant he had to make hard choices, even between the members of his department. He did want Carson to assess the situation with the Groom Killer through a clear pair of eyes but he held himself to the same set of expectations.
None of it was a reason to keep the truth from Charlie.
“Yes, it does. Carson refuses to take her off his suspect list. Truth of the matter is, she’s not fully off mine yet, either.”
“And the bleach?”
“You’ve been analyzing the bleach found at the crime scene. The bottle I gave you was in Ms. Gage’s possession as she cleaned Bo Gage’s home. Which she inherited upon his death.”
“I see.”
Did she?
“I know it’s a basic chemical compound, so I don’t know if you can tell any differences, but the connection seemed suspicious.”
“Did Ms. Gage act strange when you wanted the bottle?”
“She seemed confused that I wanted it, but otherwise didn’t seem bothered by the request.”
“What I can tell you is that the bleach you removed from her home isn’t the same as what was laid down at the crime scene. The scene was highly compromised but the base chemicals and strength were different.”
“You could tell that? From what I gave you?”
“What was at the crime scene was most likely a consumer brand. The strength level was high and had been liberally dumped on the ground. Even with the dilution of the snow cover, there was enough base product that I’d say the killer used at least two bottles, maybe a third.”
“Wow.”
“What Ms. Gage has is a generic brand. It’s still potent, but the concentration was lower and likely cost her less. You’re looking for someone who bought several bottles at once.” She pointed to the setup on the counter. “Want to take a look?”
“Sure.” Finn followed Charlie to the counter, taking her lead as she walked him through the various tests she’d run to assess the differences between samples.
As he left the lab fifteen minutes later, Finn took solace in the irrefutable proof that Darby hadn’t doused the crime scene.
And struggled with the way he was going to tell Carson what he’d kept to himself since Monday.
* * *
Darby inhaled the savory aroma of her steak and breathed in deep. The filet was cooked perfectly, in just the way she preferred. Medium, with a side of mashed potatoes and creamed corn that would make the angels weep.
She’d only ever been to the Circle T once. She and Bo had come to the restaurant for their first anniversary. He’d wined and dined her, lavishing her with compliments. Three days later she’d discovered his cheating—and the fact that the woman he’d cheated with was the fourth since they’d married—and had moved out.
Aside from the matter that she couldn’t afford it, she’d diligently avoided the Circle T and the role the restaurant played in the last good memory from her marriage.
“Is something wrong with your steak?”
Darby glanced up at Finn, his frown of concern a sweet rebuke against those memories. “It’s fine. Better than fine, as a matter of fact.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. In fact, I’m warning you now, I’m clearing my plate. No leftovers for me.”
“Penny will be disappointed.”
“Penny will survive.” She cut into her steak, pleased when another delicious scent wafted up toward her. “And there’s no way I’m feeding a dog a thirty-eight-dollar steak, no matter how much I care for her.”
“There are many in this town who don’t feel the same.”
For all the time they’d spent together this week, she’d rarely heard Finn speak ill of anyone. Yet his comment—and the dry tone—had her considering that maybe the man did have enemies.
Or at least a few people who rubbed him the wrong way.
“You thinking of anyone in particular?”
“My uncle Fenwick, for starters. He’s always enjoyed his role as the richest in the family. He’d think nothing of an expensive meal, or feeding it to the dogs.”
Darby thought about the funny little man who’d bellowed his way around the bank on Tuesday. “I saw him. Tuesday morning, when I was depositing the check for the business. This word’s highly inadequate, but he seemed to be in quite a snit.”
The answering smile she received made her think it might be the perfect word. “I saw him shortly after that. I’d gotten a call that he was doing his level best to act like the town jerk, and headed over to see what was wrong.”
“You find out?”
“He’s upset about th
e Groom Killer. Claims it’s ruining the wedding plans for his daughter. My cousin Layla,” Finn added.
“Did something happen to her plans?”
“Her groom’s crying off. Or threatening to. Claims he’s at risk of getting killed if he goes through with it.”
“That’s an awful reason.”
Darby understood what she and Finn were doing. The very real risks they were taking to draw out a killer. Even with that understanding, she hadn’t given much thought to the fact that people who were actually in love would call off their plans.
“I’d say it makes Layla lucky,” Finn said.
“What?”
“She’s marrying Hamlin Harrington. The man’s twice her age and it’s basically a business merger. I’d think she had better things to do with her future than marry an old man.”
Once again, Finn surprised her. He’d been so casual about them pretending to date each other, she’d internalized that to mean he had little interest in finding love himself. Yet to hear him talk about his cousin and his disgust at her marriage gave Darby an opportunity to probe a bit.
“I didn’t realize you were so close to your extended family.”
“I’m not.”
“Yet you’re upset that she’s choosing to enter this marriage?”
Finn sawed at his T-bone, his movements deliberate and precise, as he removed the steak from the bone. “I don’t understand people who don’t get married for love. Marriage is hard enough. Why add that pressure on top?”
“People get married for a lot of reasons. Love isn’t always at the top of the list. Or on the list at all.”
His movements stopped abruptly. “Why did you get married?”
Images of that anniversary dinner flitted through her mind once again, followed quickly by the memory of the bunched-up panties she’d found three days later in Bo’s car. “I was in love. Or thought I was.”
“Would you do it again?”
“I don’t know.” In an abstract way, Darby had believed she would get married again, but in reality she hadn’t been all that quick to go looking for it. “Would you?”
