by Addison Fox
Or anyone who even recognized the glass piece.
Several shop owners had commented on its quality and one had even suggested a few possible manufacturers, but other than that, he had nothing.
Except an object that made his bag far heavier than its weight suggested.
“What do you get?”
Darby pushed off the counter. Her skin was still pale, but determination rode her gaze. “You’ve been targeted.”
“By the Groom Killer?”
“What if the Groom Killer is a convenient distraction? What if there’s someone else who wants to do you harm and all this chaos in the midst of the murders has given them a chance to strike?”
He knew she spoke from concern, but couldn’t fully keep that in the forefront of his thoughts as anger shot through him. “You’re telling me I’ve got another problem on the loose in my town? ’Cuz I’m having a hard enough time keeping up with one.”
“Face facts, Finn. These ‘gifts’ and messages have escalated. What if this person is looking to do you harm?”
Face facts? Wasn’t that what he did every damn day? “Then we catch them. It’s that simple.”
“But they’re on the loose.”
“A fact I’m well aware of.” He crossed the short distance to the table and pulled the box from his bag, shifting it from hand to hand. “You think I don’t understand what this means? Or that I’m oblivious to the danger?”
“Are you? Because you seem to think you can handle this all, but how are you going to go up against a crazy person with a gun? Or possibly two?”
He had no right to be upset in the face of her concern, but all he’d wanted was a quiet morning with her and the dogs. A chance to shut out the world and the noise and focus on something other than blood and death. Yet, here she was, pushing it in his face and suggesting he didn’t understand what was really going on in Red Ridge.
Or, more to the point, what he’d somehow ignored as it had built and grown and seethed beneath the surface of his quiet little bucolic town.
He owned that.
Was responsible for it.
And since Bo Gage’s death, he’d been forced to accept that his ability to keep law and order was waning at best.
“I know what I can handle.”
He saw recognition fill her eyes. Saw the moment she understood that her pushing had gone from a discussion about a killer to a discussion about him. And he hated himself for it.
“This isn’t about you, Finn. Surely you can see that? It’s about people with problems. With an inability to see or understand that harming others is wrong.”
“And there you go again. We should consider hiring you for the force. Your detective skills are bar none. Should I now add psychology to the list?”
Her pale skin and wide eyes had vanished, heat flushing her cheeks and blue fire sparking in her gaze. “Be mad at me if you want. Take it out on me, even. I won’t shatter like that glass heart. But don’t tell me you’re oblivious to the danger.”
“I’m not oblivious to anything.”
“Could have fooled me.”
She pushed off the counter and stomped out of the kitchen. As he stood there and watched her go, he made no move to stop her.
* * *
Laughing, happy people surrounded her as Darby worked her way through the Red Ridge town square. The winter festival was in high gear, in spite of the biting cold and the snowstorm that threatened to end things early. Space heaters had been set up at varying intervals to ensure people could warm up; adding those to thick coats, heavy mittens and hands full of cups of hot chocolate, the hearty residents of her town seemed fairly good at staying warm.
She and Finn had reached a tentative truce as the day had worn on and he’d finally acquiesced and let her go home for a few hours to get a few things done. The time away had done her good and had given her a chance to clear her head a bit.
When Finn had met up with his team, she’d told him she was going to wander off to explore and say hi to a few people. He’d attempted to argue but broke off at her protests that she’d be fine at four in the afternoon in and around several hundred fellow residents.
She loved him. All her inward protests and mental gymnastics couldn’t change that. Or, more to the point, wouldn’t change it. But she also wasn’t his punching bag, willing to sit around while he brooded over his job and his town and the problems that lay beneath.
Finn was a good cop. But being a good cop meant that he was going to run up against people who defied logic or understanding. That wasn’t his fault, or his doing, and the reality that he’d begun to think that the presence of a killer in his town was evidence he wasn’t doing his job was a puzzle.
She headed for the hot-chocolate table to pick up a cup and got in line behind a family. A child of about five stood with her parents, her hand wrapped in her mother’s. She chattered happily about a booth where she could win a stuffed dog and how she was going to sink a golf ball into a bowl to win.
Darby had passed the booth earlier and knew the game was rigged to ensure every child got a prize, even if it wasn’t the large stuffed toy that hung from the top of the booth, drawing the eye and beckoning people over. She thought about Lora and how in a few short years she’d be here, ready to do her own ball toss.
As she waited, her thoughts tumbling one over the other, Darby let her gaze roam the crowd. Was a criminal here? Whether it was the Groom Killer or the sly, swirling threat from Anonymous, she filtered each person she saw through the lens of potential criminal.
And realized that it was considerably more interesting to look at the excited five-year-old and contemplate her happiness at winning a stuffed dog.
What changed people? How did one go from happy at five to disillusioned at thirty-five? Forty-five? Older? And how had she been lucky enough to escape that?
Her mother had spent her life disillusioned. Convinced the only thing the world gave was drudgery and misery, her mother had toiled away without ever finding joy in anything. While not as outwardly dangerous as the Groom Killer, it wasn’t a way to spend a life.
Why could she see it yet Finn couldn’t? He felt responsible for his town, which she understood. But he couldn’t take any responsibility for the choices his townspeople made.
She stepped up to get her cup of hot chocolate and wondered at the sudden chill that whipped through her. Tension ran the length of her spine and she turned at the sudden awareness of being watched. Taking her cup, she stepped to the side of the table and made a show of blowing on the hot liquid as her eyes scanned the crowd.
More families. A few couples; one that she recognized from the diner. And a few of Finn’s deputies spanned the perimeter, watching the proceedings. Darby continued her scan, running over the same set of faces again, slowing as she got to a lone woman, standing at the edge of the festival square. She didn’t know why she stopped—or why the woman drew her attention—but as Darby stood there she caught the woman’s hard glare.
Was the woman watching her?
And why did she look so weird, standing there alone?
It was an unfair thought, Darby knew. She was alone. She’d spent the past hour contentedly walking around the grounds and didn’t think twice that she didn’t belong or that she should leave.
Yet something was odd about the woman.
She’d just begun to walk over when large arms wrapped around her from behind, warm lips quickly finding the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “You look better than that hot chocolate.”
She whirled in Finn’s arms, the menace of that quietly stoic figure fading in her mind at his arrival. “It’s delicious and I’m not sure I’m sharing.”
His arms widened enough to allow her to turn, but he didn’t break his hold. “I deserve that.”
“You do not—”
He squeezed her and pressed a quic
k kiss to her lips, effectively cutting her off before he lifted his head. “I do. I was a jerk and, worse, I was a jerk to you.”
“I don’t fault you for caring about your community. For being frustrated over your work. But I don’t understand blaming yourself.”
“Funny. Carson said something similar a few minutes ago. I believe his words were a bit different though. More pragmatic, too.”
“Oh?”
“He told me to get my head out of my ass.”
“Sound advice.” She handed over her hot chocolate, offering him a sip. “Have some hot chocolate. It’ll give you a head start.”
* * *
Pain, white-hot and sharp, stabbed at her. As forceful as knives, Lydia nearly doubled over in pain as she watched Finn Colton wrap his arms around that Gage woman.
She’d seen him earlier. Had even gotten up her courage to pass by him and brush her arm against his. He’d been distracted by his meeting with his officers, but she knew he’d sensed it.
Had known he’d felt her love.
Yet here he was, flaunting his relationship with that woman in front of her. In front of the whole damn town.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, holding back the rising bile as the chief bent his head to kiss that woman. That should be her. He should know how she felt. He should be with her.
Only, he didn’t. He wasn’t. He’d ignored her gifts and had brushed off her attempts to draw his attention with her information about the Groom Killer.
As she stood and stared at him, watching how he wrapped his arm around Darby Gage’s shoulders, Lydia knew the devastating truth. Finn Colton would never be hers.
But as she stood there, gathering herself in the cold, Lydia made a vow. Her chief wouldn’t be anyone else’s, either.
* * *
Finn carried a small stuffed dog under his arm as he and Darby crossed the last block to his condo. The winter festival had been a success, the townsfolk seeming to enjoy themselves through another cold February night. He’d waited through shift rotation, when a new set of deputies came on duty and, after making one last turn around the grounds, had left the last hour of the festival to them.
“I can’t believe you got the dog in one try.”
“I’m a good shot.”
“No, you let that little girl win the big dog.” She reached over and ran a fingertip over the head of the small toy. “And you got me the little one instead. Very heroic of you.”
“All in a day’s work.”
“For you, maybe.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Finn wasn’t sure if it was relief that they’d moved past their argument or just the joy of being with her, but her words and her kiss made him feel ten feet tall.
He let them into his unit and took his first deep breath since they’d left. The festival was a success and no one had been lurking in the shadows, waiting to cause trouble. To add to it, he’d had a chance to make up for his earlier crappy behavior and was satisfied to see a smile once again curve Darby’s lips.
The dogs greeted them with a few barks and three rapidly wagging tails. He gestured them out the door. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Darby surprised him by pressing another kiss on him, this one hard and urgent against his lips. “I’ll wait for you.”
The kiss and the promise of the woman waiting inside carried him back down the common hallway and out the door. The lightest strains of music echoed in the distance, his condo close enough to the town square that he could still hear the festivities. He smiled again and would have whistled if he could, considering how much better he felt.
He’d hated fighting with Darby. Worse, he hated the fact that he’d attacked her when all she’d tried to do was help. It didn’t speak well of him, but it was a revelation to realize that she hadn’t held it against him.
And very different from his experience when married.
For as gentle as she seemed, Mary had been more than willing to fight dirty. An argument between the two of them, regardless of who started it, usually resulted in a few days of deliberate silence, even if he apologized. Which had made it that much more surprising when Darby had not only forgiven him but had welcomed him back with a warm kiss and a sexy smile.
Nothing had lingered. She’d been her bright, beautiful self and if he hadn’t been a part of the fight, he’d never have known they’d had one.
It was funny how his marriage had been on his mind lately. For something he’d managed to bury for the past five years, it had been quick to surface with the reality of Darby in his life. It had been an even shorter leap to compare her to Mary. And, with it all, he found Darby a wonder at every turn.
Whether it was the thought of his marriage or simply the feelings that had grown without him even realizing it, Finn had to acknowledge the truth.
He was in love with Darby.
It had happened so easily and so simply.
He’d always imagined falling in love again would be a hard-fought war. A dark slide back into a relationship where his head battled his heart for dominance. Only it hadn’t taken a battle at all.
It had taken one feisty woman with a sharp mind, a bright smile and a sense of determination that never failed to humble him. He should be unsettled—rationally he kept waiting for that feeling to kick in—yet as he stood there, watching the dogs romp along the shrub line, Finn knew nothing but peace.
Penny’s sharp bark pulled him from his thoughts, but the warning was too late to do any good. Sharp pain radiated through his skull as something heavy hit the back of his head.
Before he could even register an attack, the world went black.
* * *
Darby puttered in the kitchen, the scent of the pound cake she’d won at the cake walk wafting toward her now that it was open. She’d just begun hunting for a knife to cut the rich treat when she heard the knock on Finn’s door. In the rush to get the dogs out, she figured he must have forgotten his keys.
She had the door open before she could even register that neither Finn nor Penny, Lucy or Lotte stood on the other side.
Instead a small, slim form rushed inside, driving into her body with surprising force. Darby whirled backward, her arms pinwheeling as she tried to fight off the assault.
“You bitch!” the woman screeched.
Quickly shifting to the reality of what was happening, Darby struggled against the small body trying to pin her to the chair. Screams ripped from the woman’s throat, expletives and sobs in equal measure.
Darby pushed at the manic form, unable to believe the woman’s strength. She shoved and kicked, screaming in some hope of getting attention, if not from Finn then from one of his neighbors.
A hard bark echoed in the air, muted through the screen door that led to Finn’s small patio. Darby didn’t want to take her focus off her attacker, but the bark registered as possible help. Shifting her gaze to the door, she saw Penny up on her back legs, bumping her body hard against the glass. Slowly an idea filled her and Darby shifted her focus from fighting off her attacker to using the woman’s momentum to get them moving.
With a deliberate shift in her weight, she slid off the back of the chair, using the force of their bodies to rush them toward the door, the woman screaming the whole time. “He’s mine! You don’t understand!”
Darby’s arms tired under the continued assault and she weighed letting go of the steady pressure against the manic gleam in the woman’s eyes. Darby had no doubt the woman had come there to kill her.
That knowledge had her pushing harder, digging deeper for the strength as she back-walked them a few more steps toward the patio door. Penny’s barks grew more frenzied and Darby pushed one more shot of strength into her body, shoving as hard as she could at her attacker.
The force did little to stop the woman’s forward momentum, but it was enough to give Darby a ch
ance to tug on the door. She pulled on the knob, wrenching hard on the handle only to find it stuck. A hard sob fell from her throat as the woman leaped on her from behind, fingers clawing at Darby’s face and neck.
The sob turned into a scream as pain registered from her attacker’s assault. Darby kicked out from behind, scoring a slight hit when the heel of her boot connected with a shin, even as another round of pain radiated against the tight hold on her neck.
The kick was just enough to have the grip on her neck loosen and Darby grabbed blindly for the lock, flipping it and dragging on the knob.
Penny fell into the room in a rush of barks and growls and leaped on the woman, immediately stemming the assault and going to battle. Incoherent screams turned into shrieks as Penny pinned down her quarry.
Lotte and Lucy leaped over the low patio fence, their barks and growls a match for Penny’s. In moments they’d surrounded the woman, a phalanx of protection holding her back and away from Darby.
They were there. They’d come to protect her. The knowledge had her legs wobbling. As Darby fell to the floor, she heard the sirens. Shouts wove in between the mechanical screams and two officers raced through the patio door on the heels of the dogs.
But it was Finn’s haggard features, a trail of blood running down his forehead, that had her dragging herself off the floor in a renewed burst of strength. He stood on the other side of the patio fence and she raced to him, wrapping him in her arms.
“Are you okay?” she asked, shocked to feel how cold he was.
“Never better.” His arms went around her, his innate strength still evident beneath the shaking of his limbs as he pulled her close.
* * *
Finn huddled in a thick blanket, Lotte on one side and Lucy on the other. Darby came next on the couch and Penny lay on her other side, her head in Darby’s lap. Several RRPD members still managed the scene inside his house but Finn had been given strict orders to sit still while he held an ice pack to his forehead. He kept the pack on but refused to let go of Darby’s hand with his free one.
