by Mia Dymond
“I trust you, Claire.” The detective scrubbed a hand over his five-o’clock shadow. “Take the next couple of days to process and then we’ll put our heads back together. Maybe forensics will have something else.”
Claire gave a slow nod. “Do you mind if I keep the badge and the pen?”
“No, go ahead. Anything to find this bastard.”
Brett closed the door behind Matt. The deadbolt snapped in the silence.
Shadow straightened and helped her to her feet. “What’s with the pen?” He bent to pick it up and then pushed it toward her.
She shook her head. “I can’t touch it right now.”
Shadow glanced at Brett then back at her. “Even with us here?”
“Yes.”
“Funny how Brooks is related to that particular object.”
Claire couldn’t fault Shadow’s suspicion. “I entertained that thought. However, someone else is involved.”
Anyone else would have labeled her insane. Spooky. Freaky. But not Shadow. No, despite his doubt - and she felt that tenfold - he didn’t argue. Instead, he crossed his big, beefy arms across his smooth, broad chest and waited.
“Someone touched that pen before Gabe was murdered. If it was in his desk, Matt wasn’t responsible.”
Brett sat back down on the couch. “Brooks was with Gabe?”
“Yes. According to the incident report, they arrived at the scene together. Matt waited in the car while Gabe made the buy.”
Shadow arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure forensics didn’t remove it from the body?”
“Positive. I have the inventory in the case file.”
“So, according to Brooks, he locked his weapon up even though it has now been labeled the murder weapon.” He paused, obviously expecting her to argue. Except, this time she knew better. Shadow didn’t really accuse Detective Brooks of murder, at least not yet. “Normal protocol for removing a weapon from lock-up requires a signature.”
She nodded in agreement. “That sheet is also included in the file. No one released the weapon.”
Brett voiced the one fact no one could dispute. “Obviously Internal Affairs cleared him.”
“Video surveillance places him in the vehicle just as he claimed.” Claire poked a piece of hair behind one ear. “I pulled Navajo PD’s policy manual. Only the owner of the weapon can sign for the property. Well, unless circumstances prevent it.”
Shadow reached to wrap the ends of her hair around his fingers. “So, it wasn’t returned to Brooks.”
“No, it became evidence.”
“Fingerprints?”
“Only belonging to Detective Brooks.”
Shadow scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “The locker is regulated?”
“Twenty four hours a day.”
“Did anyone sign anything in or out prior to the incident?”
“According to the log, the DA’s office signed out evidence for another case. Most evidence usually ends up in their hands.” Claire sighed. “I just can’t understand why that pen mocks me.”
“Sleep on it, baby.” Shadow released her hair and nudged her toward the bedroom. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Claire jolted awake to the sensation of icy hot fingers squeezing her larynx. She fought to draw air across her lungs, coughing when thick, dirty air finally entered. She slung her body back and forth in an effort to free herself from fear’s invisible hold, and pounded on the stone-hard barrier next to her.
“Claire?” Shadow’s mumbled inquiry even confused her more.
She lay still and attempted to focus. Shadow’s arm lay across her midsection, his biceps level to her neck. Tension leaked from her muscles. A nightmare. Nothing more.
Except, the air continued to thicken. She glanced at Shadow. Although he lay next to her, she just knew that. Her eyes burnt and tears kept her vision fuzzy. She inhaled again as deeply as possible and this time she breathed in what felt like dry sand.
“Shadow, wake up!” She managed to free herself from under his tree trunk of an arm. “The house is on fire!”
He immediately rolled off the bed and shoved on his jeans. She slung the sheets from her body, thankful her nightgown remained intact.
“Brett,” she croaked.
Shadow shoved his feet into his boots and yanked her from the bed. “Stand right here.”
He threw open the bedroom door. Dense smoke rushed inside and deposited her brother on hands and knees, coughing like a chain smoker. Shadow slammed the door closed and then grabbed Brett’s shoulder and pulled him to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Flames followed me,” he wheezed. “The whole house is engulfed.”
Claire glanced at Shadow, still barely able to outline his body in the haze. His fear remained buried deep within the confines of his psyche; desire to keep all of them alive occupied most of his brain space. True to his military training, his stellar tracking ability finally located a chair in the corner. With brute force, he threw it through the window. Logic told her the glass shattered, eerie cackling kept her from hearing it.
Shadow picked her up from the bed and wrapped her in the heavy comforter before easing her out the window. “Run like hell. Go next door and call 911.”
Claire unwrapped the blanket and threw it back at him. “Not until you’re both out.”
He grabbed the blanket and handed it to Steele. Once the other man left the house, Shadow used the blanket to climb through. Claire led them to a curb across the street.
“Stay here,” Shadow told her. “I’ll go get help.”
She laid a hand on his forearm just as the all too familiar squeal of sirens penetrated the filthy air. “No need.”
She reached to shield her eyes from the bright lights of chaos while tears leaked down her cheeks and her lungs worked overtime. Sinister laughter echoed in the depths of her mind. Both Shadow’s and her brother’s anger fueled the immense evil force behind the fire.
Claire whimpered, unable to contain her emotion any longer. The fine strands of control finally broke and rendered her helpless. Her head fell into her hands and she spiraled downward, deep into the depths of unconsciousness, succumbing to the madman’s tight control.
“No, Claire.” Shadow’s calm, soothing voice stopped her freefall. Her scalp tingled when his fingers began their familiar ministrations.
“He’s here.” She said finally, still behind closed eyes.
Her brother coughed again. “Any idea where?”
She lifted her head and opened her eyes to scan the area. Still, the haze prevented her from seeing more than two feet in front of her. “No.”
She squinted again, this time catching sight of a figure coming toward them. She waited for emotion to assault her. Determination. Anger. Fear.
Shadow gave her hair a yank. “Brooks.” He stood and pushed her against her brother. “Stay here.”
Shadow met Brooks halfway between a parked squad car and the curb where Steele and Claire sat.
“I’ve radioed for an ambulance.”
Shadow squared his shoulders and attempted to keep himself under control for Claire’s benefit.
“We’ve already got a lead,” Brooks continued. “The first guys on the scene smelled something close to gasoline. Obviously an intentional fire. Several cigarette butts were tossed around the perimeter.”
Shadow’s fine line of control snapped. He shook with rage as he shoved Brooks against the parked police car and squeezed a hand around his neck. “You swore to me no one knew about this house.”
“I told you the truth,” Brooks wheezed.
“Shadow, ease up.” Shadow wasn’t surprised to hear Steele’s voice behind him.
Shadow tightened the pressure on the detective’s esophagus. “Bullshit! Someone knows. There’s a leak somewhere.”
“Not possible.” Brooks cleared his throat. “This house is not department property. It’s mine. I inherited it a couple years ago from a long lost uncle.”
&n
bsp; Shadow released his hold on Brooks and folded his arms across his chest to stop himself from beating the detective to a bloody stump. He took several deep breaths to distract his murder instinct. Impossible.
“All the more reason to move her,” he said finally.
“Where?” The detective glanced at Steele then back at him. “I’ll help anyway I can.”
“No way in hell.” Shadow spit out a half laugh. “The less you know, the safer she is.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re the problem, Brooks.” Steele’s calm, collected accusation raised the hair on Shadow’s neck. The same smooth tone he used just before he initiated a sniper bullet.
“You can’t be serious!” The detective’s eyes widened and his hands shook as he ran them through his hair. “This was my house!”
“What’s wrong, Brooks?” Shadow drawled. “Need a cigarette?”
“Stop it, Shadow.” Claire’s voice held a note of warning of her own. “He had nothing to do with this.”
Shadow never moved his eyes from the detective. “Not now, Claire. Not even you can convince me otherwise.”
“Let me walk around for a few minutes. Maybe I can —”
“No. We’re moving, Claire.”
Brooks exhaled. “I agree.”
“You better get back to your fire, Detective.” Shadow didn’t leave room for discussion.
Claire gave Matt brownie points for backing down. “Call me when you’re settled.”
She waited for the detective to leave the area before she shoved Shadow in the shoulder. “If I don’t stay close, we’ll never find him.”
“Hell no.” Brett’s tone remained deadly.
She gave Shadow an icy glare as she issued another challenge. “You can’t stop me.”
“Wanna bet?”
Her brother’s weak laugh annoyed her. “My money’s on Shadow, Claire. Don’t even try.”
Claire released an irritated sigh. “I’m not going to even attempt to explain why the two of you are acting like total idiots.”
Deep in soldier mode, Shadow wouldn’t waver. “Idiots or not, we have to move.”
Brett released a heavy breath. “Any suggestions?”
Shadow’s response nearly knocked her over. “House of Windsor.”
Claire’s eyebrows touched her hairline. Dread paralyzed her. House of Windsor stood untouched by the outside world.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Desperation shook her nerves. Left to Shadow after his parents’ death, the estate provided a safe haven for him and although he never showed an ounce of weakness, she knew he escaped there to leave reality behind. She looked to her brother for assistance. “Brett, knock some sense into him.”
Brett shrugged. “You’ll be safe there.”
“Shadow, I can’t let you do this.” She refused to wrap her mind around the possibility. “If something happens –”
“Not an option.”
“I can’t trespass on your memories there. No. Absolutely not.”
She fought tears as Shadow cupped her face in his hands. “I’ll die before I let anything happen to you. Besides, we can make new memories there.”
Brett groaned. “You’re going, Claire, end of story.”
Claire glanced at her twin. “Fine, but rest assured I will make your life a living hell if you’re wrong.”
“No doubt in my mind,” Brett mumbled.
Shadow pushed Claire toward the driveway. “I’ll notify Brooks we’re on the move.”
“You think that’s necessary?” Brett followed, his pace just as determined as Shadow’s.
“Since he’s working the case, we almost have to.” Shadow paused, looked left, then right, then left again. “No one gets to her anyway.” She struggled to keep up as he dragged her across the lawn and all but tossed her into Brett’s truck. “One way in and one way out.”
CHAPTER NINE
Several hours later, Claire glanced at the two-story mountain-style house hidden in the thicket of trees and swallowed the softball in her throat. Why on Earth had she let Shadow bring her here?
Contrary to its noble title, the structure reflected anything but cold and proper. Yet she had managed to bring evil near.
“Knock it off, Claire.” Shadow grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the front door.
She glanced up at the second floor, lit by a blinding spotlight. Moths flew in and out of the bright rays. A slight breeze caressed the night air and moved the yellow curtains in an open window. She inhaled a deep breath. Shadow told her once that his mother insisted fresh air was meant to be inhaled. That, and that her favorite color was yellow. The color of sunshine and new beginnings.
Shadow dropped her hand. While he pressed numbers into a keypad on the outside of the door, she turned to look down a hill at the lake several meters away.
“You can’t swim that far.” He moved back from the door and poked her in the side with one finger.
“I promised,” she mumbled. “Forget your key?”
“Be patient.”
She glanced at Brett next to her on the porch, one hip braced on the rail, combat boots crossed at the ankles. “Call her.”
“Who?”
“Holly.” Flashes of the petite blonde jabbed her mind. Dancing. Naked. “Please, before you make me sick.”
Her brother smirked. “Don’t snoop, Brat.”
Several short, high-pitched beeps drew her attention away from her brother’s mental porn movie. The door popped open and Shadow led her inside. Brett snapped the door shut and reset the alarm.
“Bathroom is upstairs, through the bedroom, second door on the left.” Shadow grinned. “Bubbles in the cabinet.”
Shadow waited until Claire climbed the stairs and then motioned Steele into the kitchen.
“Damn, I just don’t think I can sit around and wait on this prick.”
“Don’t see that we have an option. Besides, you seem to be entertaining my sister fairly well.”
“Yeah, about that. I’m thinking we owe you an apology.”
“No apology necessary. I just miss Holly.”
Shadow opened the refrigerator and reached for a glass pitcher. “Lemonade?”
Steele nodded and slid his glass across the table. “What about Brooks?”
Shadow released a heavy sigh and slammed the refrigerator door. “I don’t know what the hell to think. He shows up immediately after Claire’s car rips open the side of the house. Next, somebody shoots me with his gun. We move her to the safehouse he suggests and we get run off the road. Then, the fucking house burns to a crisp. Yet, Claire insists he’s not our guy.”
“The cop angle bothers me.”
Shadow lifted both eyebrows while he poured. “Maybe Brooks and Kennedy weren’t as close as we think.”
“Or he has an accomplice.”
“He’s more than capable of all four acts. First, he’s an explosives expert. He could’ve easily had access to C4. Second, he’s ex-SWAT, apparently an expert marksman. Third, he followed us from the courthouse. And last, he’s a smoker. He said himself cigarette butts littered the scene at the safehouse.”
“But you’re not convinced.”
Shadow simply shook his head. Steele already knew the explanation behind his reasoning.
“Because Claire says otherwise.”
“Yes. Any other time I would’ve already taken his ass out.”
“She never misses.”
“Yeah, sucks for us, huh?”
Steele tossed back his glass and swallowed the contents. “Damn straight. Not much we can do but wait her out.” He placed his glass in the sink. “I’m dog-tired. Let’s give it a rest until morning.”
Shadow followed Steele out of the kitchen. “Take the bedroom at the end of the hall. Less noise down there.”
***
Claire shoved the covers from her body and gave a loud sigh. Sleep escaped her and it was all Shadow’s fault. Hot, needy and achy, she lay sprawled on sheets do
used in his scent. She took a deep breath and smiled. Musky, masculine, wild. No way could he deny he slept here recently.
She grabbed a pillow and crammed it between her thighs to attempt to cool the heated flesh. Instead, her skin prickled with thoughts of the only thing able to soothe her. Shadow’s touch. Smooth, protective, determined. She closed her eyes, inhaled through her nose, then released the breath slowly to clear her mind. For a brief moment, serene visions of rainbows and sunshine washed away her tension and filled her with comfort. And then the ache returned. Persistent. Demanding. Sexual.
She knew who entered the bedroom before the doorknob squeaked. Her eyes opened.
Shadow moved easily through the cover of darkness until he stood beside the bed, the moonlight casting a spotlight on his solid, bare chest. He popped the buttons on his fly and then pushed his jeans down and off. Claire squeezed her eyes closed again, scared he might disappear if she opened them. The mattress shifted behind her and then his bulky arms eased her against him.
“About time,” she said into the silence.
His husky snicker did little to soothe her aches. “You’ve tossed and turned most of the night.”
“You heard me?”
“Yes, and those breathy little sighs have kept me crazy hard.”
Claire smiled, satisfied that he had been just as uncomfortable as she.
“How do you feel?”
“Hot and bothered.” The heated silk of his boxers caressed her bottom as she wiggled into the junction of his thighs.
Shadow groaned. “I meant the baby.”
“I feel good. It’s very peaceful here.”
She didn’t miss the thickness of his voice. “This was my mother’s favorite place.”
“It’s yours too.”
“Yes.”
“Your mother was a very intuitive woman. The house has healing qualities.”
Her stomach muscles quivered as his fingers drew lazy circles on the surface. “I’m pretty sure my mother had your gift, Claire.”
Her eyes snapped open in understanding. She rolled to face him. “That’s how you learned to block.” She paused to allow the atmosphere to infiltrate her pores. “There’s a strong sense of virility in this room.”
