Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Carol Ericson

  The tendons in Dylan’s neck corded tight. “Gresham PD thinks the fact their victim died with hundreds of photos of a US marshal taped to the inside of his closet, that she directly—or indirectly—has something to do with his death. We turned everything we had over to the captain there before we left the station, including the connection between Howe and his victims. His current theory is Remi has been investigating Del Howe on her own all this time, discovered he’d been following her and made sure it never happened again. He wants to pin Howe’s death on her, and they won’t stop until they do.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Becket Foster scrubbed a hand through his thick beard. The brand-new father and husband to a former fugitive crossed his arms over his muscled chest. “You were taken off the force and off the case before you came to work with the marshals, but I have to ask, have you been investigating this case since you left?”

  “No, and I have an alibi for the timeframe the medical examiner reports Howe was murdered, thanks to the cameras in this office.” Remi took her seat at the head of the table. “As far as I was concerned, the New Castle Killer case was in the past. Until this morning.”

  “I’ve been investigating it.” The attention of the three marshals weighed heavily on his chest, but he couldn’t hide behind Remi’s connection any longer. Not if he wanted this team’s help to find their latest killer. “Remi hired me as a private investigator in Delaware to work the case alongside New Castle Sheriff’s Department. When she was banned from investigating, I was officially taken off the case, too.”

  “And unofficially?” Jonah Watson asked.

  “I wasn’t going to let the New Castle Killer get away with what he’d done, considering it was my fault Tad Marrow ended up a victim in the first place.” Guilt stole his concentration as memories battled to escape. Dylan focused on the documents in the file in front of him, not seeing anything specific. “He came to me, said he felt like he was being watched and asked if I’d look into it. I was so wrapped up in the New Castle Killer case, I brushed him off. Turned out, he was right.”

  “Now you think someone uncovered the New Castle Killer’s identity and is out for revenge.” Finnick Reed hunched over the crime scene photos. “Del Howe obviously came to Oregon for you, Remi. Barring the possibility you or Cove is the killer and you’re keeping that bit of information to yourself, we’re looking at victims’ family members, possibly another investigator on the case who feels as guilty as you do or another serial who isn’t too keen on sharing his territory. The Carver didn’t take too kindly to his protégé going after Camille. Turns out, serial killers can get very territorial over their prey.”

  Hell, Cove hadn’t even thought of that. Another killer? His gaze slid to Remi, and the edges of his vision blurred. If Del Howe hadn’t been killed in that cabin last night, would he have come for Remi next? Would Dylan have found her in the middle of her office or her house tied to a chair, her skin sliced more than a hundred times? Numbness coursed through him at the thought of losing her as the anchor who’d kept him from going too far with his private investigation into Howe, who’d been his lifeline to keeping him on this side of the law.

  “What do you need from us, Chief?” Beckett Foster asked.

  Dylan studied the faces looking up at their chief with nothing but drive and determination. All three of these men had battled against their greatest fears and death to protect the people they cared about. Beckett with his fugitive, Finnick with his witness, Jonah with his prosecutor. He focused on the hard bite of Remi’s nails into the surface of the table then studied the curve of her cheekbones. Dylan would do the same.

  “Should be simple enough. We’re going to find a killer. Beckett, look into the victims’ family members. I want to know if any of them is in or around Oregon. Jonah, I need you to poke around the personnel files for officers who worked the original investigation from the New Castle Sheriff’s Department. See if any of them might still be digging into the case. Finn, you and Camille have the most experience with serials in this area. You’re going hunting.” Camille, the witness the serial from Chicago had targeted for over a year after he failed to kill her outright.

  Remi rested her right hand on her sidearm and the other on her opposite hip, every inch the leader Dylan had come to respect these past few years. “This is an unofficial investigation. Everything we do here has to be off the books. That means no USMS resources and nothing available digitally. We’re going old school, and what we find stays between us. If Gresham PD gets the smallest hunch we’re working this case, there will be hell to pay. Everything comes through me.” She nodded at Dylan. “And nobody makes a mistake.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Remi punched the six-digit code into the keypad beside the dead bolt and waited for the lock to disengage. A long driveway disappeared to the back of the safe house, four light-stained pillars standing guard at her back. The property had been part of an ongoing case in which the owner had lost her home and the surrounding land due to her involvement with prostitution and illegal immigration.

  Nobody would be looking for her here.

  Her boots echoed off the tile of the grand entryway as she turned to secure the dead bolt. To her left, a two-storied living space climbed high overhead; to the right, a small office she never intended to use. Too exposed with the large front window overlooking the wraparound porch and street. Remi rounded into the main room and pulled the cord to the right of the windows to cut off the view from the street. She couldn’t go back to her apartment. Despite the fact Del Howe—the man who’d been surveilling her—had been found dead, there was a chance the person who’d killed him was connected to the New Castle Killer case. What better way to satisfy a craving for revenge than to target the former sheriff who’d let the killer slip away?

  Movement registered from the other side of the window a split second before three knocks filled the entryway, and she reached for her sidearm. “I know you’re in there, Sheriff. I might not be a private investigator anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to tail someone without them noticing.”

  Dylan Cove. She held her breath. Hand still poised over her weapon, she rounded back into the entryway and pressed her free hand against the door. He wasn’t supposed to be here. “What are you doing here, Cove?”

  “Did you really think I was going to let you take on whoever killed Del Howe alone?” he asked.

  How had he...? Three breaths. Four. She unlocked and opened the door. Centered in the frame, Dylan’s features demanded every cell in her body to rise to attention. A flood of appreciation charged through her, and Remi tightened her grip on the doorknob. “You followed me because you think I can’t take care of myself.”

  “Hell, no. I followed you because I didn’t want to miss the show when you caught up with the perp who took out the New Castle Killer.” His laugh rumbled from low in his chest and chased back the defensiveness tightened the muscles down her spine.

  Dylan raised the black duffel bag at his side into her peripheral vision. An overnight bag? Exactly how long did he intend on staying here? “Can I come in? You haven’t eaten all day, as far as I could tell, so I brought you your favorite. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with nacho chips crushed in the middle, and light beer.”

  Her stomach growled and Remi stepped back to open the door wider. “You know damn well I can’t say no to free food.”

  “That’s what I was counting on.” That same laugh she’d battled to forget over the past year dove past her defenses and exploded in her belly. No matter the case, no matter the weight that came with hunting a killer and not being able to bring the victims justice, she’d relied on that laugh to get her through the hardest parts. And here they were again, working a case together in an effort to prevent the loss of more innocent lives. “Nice place. Asset forfeiture?”

  She secured the door behind him and armed the alarm installed on the nearest wal
l. “Watson and Reed confiscated it during an investigation two weeks ago. The case is still with the courts and officially assigned to them. No one should have a reason to look for me here.”

  “Good a safe house as any. At least until we figure out who the hell wanted the man stalking you dead.” Dylan slipped the duffel strap from his shoulder. He tipped his head back as he took in the height of the ceilings, the stone fireplace climbing up toward the second floor, the built-in bookcases against one wall. Muscle and tendon flexed and dipped along his shoulders with the slightest movement, and Remi found herself unable to look away. Until he turned piercing gray eyes on her. His gaze lowered to her hand still resting against the butt of her weapon then shot back to hers. “Tell me what’s going through your head.”

  She forced herself to relax and release her grip on her sidearm. “That you didn’t come all the way out here to make sure I got something to eat, Cove.”

  “I hate when you call me that.” He dropped the duffel bag at his feet and took a single step toward her. Her heart rate notched higher as he slowly closed the distance between them, her skin on fire under his assessment, but she wouldn’t back down. Not from him. “I remember a time when we called each other by our first names, when it was just us, no one else around. I remember how you said my name in the dark.”

  Heat stirred in her gut. Remi swallowed around the thickness in her throat, determined not to let the memories escape. Because once she let them free, she feared they might never fit back in the recesses she’d buried them in at the back of her mind. She and Cove had been involved while they’d worked the New Castle Killer case, but they’d agreed it’d been nothing more than a way to slay the nightmares closing in around them, to feel something other than the bottomless disappointment of failure. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Not for me.” He shook his head, the sight of all that brown hair beckoning her fingers to slide through one more time. “Seems like yesterday we were standing face-to-face like we are now in the middle of your office in New Castle after everyone else had been dispatched to an emergency call. The case had beaten us both down to nothing and all we’d had then was each other. Then one day, you were just...gone.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Hollowness infused her words as he insisted on battering against the invisible barrier she’d constructed to move on with her life. She curled her hands into fists. He’d gotten too close. She wouldn’t let him see them shake, wouldn’t let him see her break. “You’ve been working in my office for six months, doing the job, giving me my space, and now, with Del Howe’s true identity out in the open, you suddenly have the inclination to bring up a past I’d rather forget. Is that why you joined the marshals after you closed down your private investigation firm? For an apology?”

  “I came here because I was worried about you, damn it. I know how you get when you’re in the middle of a case. I know you won’t eat, you won’t sleep and you won’t stop until there’s nothing left of you to give. You’ll blame yourself, and I’m here to tell you you’re not the only one who feels responsible for what happened in New Castle. You say you want to forget the past, but I know you, Sheriff.” His voice softened. “You won’t let the team see anything but the mask you wear day in and day out, but you don’t have to do that with me. I’ve seen the real you. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst. I know you’re hurting and angry, and you’re determined to carry the entire division alone, but you’re not alone. The sandwiches and beer were just a bribe to get past the front door.”

  “Well, it worked.” He was right. She did blame herself. She’d failed to bring a killer to justice as a sheriff and now, faced with the consequences of that failure, she feared she wasn’t strong enough to see this through as a marshal. She hadn’t been able to save the victims of the New Castle Killer then. What made her think this time would be any different? And if she failed, would she lose her job as chief deputy, too? “Did you at least use the grape jelly I like?”

  “Of course, I did.” Dylan stepped back, reached for the duffel bag he’d set on the floor and retrieved two bagged sandwiches and a couple of longnecks. He handed her one of each and kept the others for himself. “Took my looking in three different stores to find your favorite brand, so when I found it, I bought extra.”

  He’d done this for her? The bread collapsed under the press of her thumb through the plastic, and her mouth watered. Peanut butter, grape jelly and nacho chips. The meal that’d gotten her through some of the worst moments of her life after her dad had died. But Dylan couldn’t have known that. He’d simply picked up on her preferred meal back in Delaware, and she’d never been so thankful for his observation skills than right now. The automatic tightness in her chest when he’d gotten near eased. She led him to the dining table in the next room. Turning on the light, she tamped down her anxiety of being exposed by the wall of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and stay in the moment. She pulled one chair out for him then took her own seat across the table. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” He spoke around a mouthful of chips and peanut butter, and she couldn’t help but smile at the disgusted look on his face. Dylan set the sandwich on top of the bag he’d wrapped it in and leaned back in his chair. “You eat this every day?”

  “It’s not that bad.” Remi took a bite from her own sandwich and instantly fell into an emotional safety zone as cheesy nacho chips combined with the sweetness of the grape jelly. “We didn’t have a whole lot of money back in Delaware when I was a kid. Bread, peanut butter, jelly and chips were about as good as it got. My dad used to make this for me every day when I came home from school. Sometimes he used potato chips, but the best are nacho cheese, in my opinion.”

  “You never told me about your family.” Dylan tried another bite, but she got the sense he’d only done it to prove he could.

  “There’s not a whole lot to tell.” Peanut butter and bread stuck to the roof of her mouth as she focused on the pattern of tree rings engrained into the dining table. She raised her gaze to his. “They’re all dead.”

  * * *

  HELL. SHE’D KEPT such a tight lid on anything having to do with her family, he hadn’t realized it’d been because she didn’t have any left. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Nobody knows. The fire happened such a long time ago, I wonder if the memories I have of my parents and my little sister are even real.” Remi traced the zipper along the plastic sandwich bag with her thumb. Her ribs expanded on a strong inhale, and she wrapped both hands around her sandwich as if clinging to it for dear life.

  “I was eight. The smoke detector batteries in our trailer had died the week before, but my dad couldn’t justify spending what little money we had buying new ones. He’d dedicated his entire life to working in the mines, but almost anyone who hauled coal barely walked away with a living wage. My mom, dad and two-year-old sister were sleeping in the only bed at one end of the trailer with me at the other in a pullout. The last thing I remember was trying to wake them up, but the smoke had already suffocated them. I got my sister out on my own, but even after the paramedics had gotten there, she never woke up.”

  Remi brushed her hands together to dislodge the crumbs from her fingers, but she still wouldn’t look at him. “My parents were too heavy for me to carry by myself. I just...wasn’t strong enough. The fire marshal who’d come to investigate said the fire had started because of a faulty outlet in the bedroom. The whole trailer had gone up in a matter of minutes.”

  “Sounds like you were lucky to get out of there alive,” he said.

  “I haven’t told anyone that story.” She shook her head. Remi finished the last of her sandwich, and a new appreciation for the trust she’d showed him spread. She ran a hand through her long black hair and a memory of that same hair surrounding his face as she kissed him surfaced. “Not sure why I told you that, to be honest. I must be more tired than I thought.”

  “Neither of us wa
s expecting the New Castle Killer case to come back to haunt us after you were let go from the sheriff’s department.” Dylan played with the crust of his sandwich.

  “You believe Del Howe is the killer who outsmarted us all?” That iridescent blue gaze lifted to his, and the world threatened to tip on its axis. He’d known Remi long enough to realize the question went deeper than the words that’d fallen from her lips.

  She’d brought him onto the New Castle case based off his previous work as a private investigator. She’d witnessed how far he’d go to get to the truth and had sought him out to work the investigation in tandem with the sheriff’s department, despite the blowback from fellow officers and the governor. She wasn’t asking him if he was sure he’d uncovered the New Castle Killer’s identity. She already knew the truth. No. Remi was asking if he was prepared to step into the ring again, if he was ready to see this case through to the end.

  Dylan peeled the corner of the label from his beer as a heavy knot of determination twisted in his gut. “I believe the fact I ignored Tad Marrow when he approached me for help was what got him killed.” He took a sip of the beer, not really tasting the flavor as it prickled down the back of his throat. “I promised myself I was going to spend the rest of my life making up for that mistake by ensuring his killer paid for what he’d done. But then the SOB turned up dead this morning. Now I’m not sure what to do.”

  Silence settled between them. A minute, maybe more.

  “I didn’t leave because of you, Dylan.” His name on her lips constricted the skin along his scalp. Her voice had barely registered over the soft pulse of his heartbeat behind his ears, and a rush of heat flared up his neck. “Not completely.”