by Lora Leigh
“You know as well as I do people will defend criminals when they have feelings for them. Some people honestly believe a serial killer is as innocent as God when they love them.”
Ashley stared at her kitchen, willing the dull headache throbbing at her temples to go away as she fought to replay every event that transpired over the last twelve hours. Wait. Make that over the past twenty-four hours, since she’d slept over eight hours at the hospital.
Her kitchen was clean. They hadn’t eaten anything here. She’d had a beer at the bowling alley before coming here, but as many times as she replayed walking into the bowling alley with Chase, she didn’t remember him ever touching her beer. And she’d never left his side, not even to go to the bathroom. Other than the beer, they hadn’t eaten, but come home and gone at it.
Danny had called. No. Wait. She’d called him. He’d broken into her home. How the hell had she forgotten that?
“My ex broke into my house,” she announced, looking at her back door and then walking over to it. It was locked.
“What? When did he do that?” Captain Sullivan stood in her kitchen, his thick arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a shrewd eye.
Another person would have been intimidated by his commanding presence. But John Sullivan didn’t hold half the dominating, protective aura that Chase did.
“When we,” she began, but then turned, facing him, and started again. “I came home and realized someone was in my house. The jerk damn near got himself shot,” she added, forcing a dry chuckle. “I chased him out the back door and then recognized his car idling in the alley.”
“You know it was him for sure?”
“Yup. I called him and chewed his ass.” Her gaze fell on a bottle of water on her counter. The cap was barely on it and it was almost full. Ashley walked up to the bottle, remembering taking it out of the refrigerator. “I thought I was out of bottled water,” she mused.
“What?”
Ashley picked up the bottle and the cap fell off it, rolling under the kitchen table. She brought it to her nose, sniffing the water.
“Does this smell funny to you?”
Captain Sullivan tried taking the bottle, but she wouldn’t let him. “Don’t touch it. Just sniff it. If I’m right, I don’t want anyone else’s fingerprints on it.”
CHAPTER 8
CHASE PICKED up his phone, already knowing why his supervisor would be calling. “What’s up, Doc?”
Harry Docking, his immediate supervisor, was calling from his private line. Whatever he wanted to say, it was off the record. Nonetheless, Chase answered with the code words he’d used for years, “What’s up, Doc?,” which told Harry there was no situation at his end.
Unfortunately, Chase was damn near positive that was anything but the case.
“Do you remember Big Al Crete?” Doc’s tone was all business.
Maybe the events in his hometown hadn’t reached his supervisor’s desk. “The Greek who was shipping drugs over the border a year back? Didn’t he turn evidence over to the state?”
“Yup. And walked free. Apparently he walked right back into his old lifestyle.”
“Don’t they usually?”
“He just got picked up down there in Wichita, apparently he moved beyond the acceptable drugs of heroine and cocaine. They busted him with a fair amount of ISIS on him.”
Chase froze. He didn’t realize he’d been pacing his living room until he stopped, a tightening throughout his body having him gripping his phone so hard he damn near broke it in two.
“Was he dealing here in Wichita?” Chase’s mind started racing. He’d put Ashley in one hell of a position walking out on her, and it bugged the crap out of him knowing she was keeping his cover for him and he wasn’t there for her.
“I’m surprised you don’t have the answer to that question.” Doc continued with his hard tone, which was impossible to read over the phone. “If you’ve been behaving, though, and not taking the law into your own hands and trying to solve cases without following protocol, I might be willing to put you on another case.”
Chase didn’t like being asked if he was behaving. Doc knew Chase was one of his best operatives. And if nailing a perpetrator meant breaking a few laws along the way, he sure as hell wasn’t breaking as many laws as the bad guy was.
“That’s up to you,” he growled, unwilling to keep the grumpiness out of his tone.
“You aren’t some rookie, Chase. You know how it works. I hate thinking you’re burned out. You’re one hell of a good agent, but you’ve got to follow the rules.”
“Yup,” he said, heading into his bedroom to get his keys. “Where did you say they booked Big Al Crete?”
“I didn’t. Why do you care?”
Chase didn’t care any longer about protecting who he was, not if he could help Ashley crack this case. And especially if he could see her again. From what he’d observed on the few drive-bys he’d done today since she’d come home from the hospital, her captain was hanging around too close. If she was protecting Chase, it wouldn’t surprise him a bit if her captain felt she was hiding something. Which she was— his identity.
“I don’t know if I care yet, or not.” And he wouldn’t until he talked to Big Al.
“Stay out of it, Chase,” Doc ordered. “It’s not your case. Stand by and I’ll fax information to you there in an hour or so. I’ll get you a plane ticket and tomorrow you’ll be in New York.”
“Uh-huh.” Chase wasn’t listening. He locked up his house and headed to his car. Ashley’s car was still there, further proof she hadn’t disclosed to anyone who he was. The longer she protected him, the deeper she incriminated herself. Both of them couldn’t lose their jobs.
He got off the phone with Doc, not sure if he had agreed to anything or not, and not really caring. After knowing Ashley a few days he already saw what he hadn’t seen in any other woman he’d ever met. Her feisty nature, her craving to solve a crime— and obviously at any expense since she hadn’t narked him out yet— were characteristics he’d never imagined finding in a woman. Add to that her sex appeal, her distracting good looks, her commanding nature that turned submissive when he pushed her to a certain point sexually, and he knew he’d found the woman for him.
Chase flipped his cell phone open and called Ashley.
“Hello,” she said slowly, the wariness in her tone obvious.
“My supervisor just told me a known drug dealer, Big Al Crete, was arrested in Wichita recently,” he began, keeping his voice low in case anyone was near her who might overhear before he could say what needed to be said. “He was arrested for selling ISIS.”
“Oh really?” she interrupted, matching his calm, quiet tone. “Where are you headed?”
It didn’t surprise him she wanted to know about him. Ashley wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“Your house.”
“I don’t think so,” she told him, her slow drawl giving anyone around her listening the indication she could be talking about the weather.
“I already know your captain is there. Tell him I’m on my way and I’ll show my credentials when I get there. You’re not covering for me anymore, sweetheart. And you’re not getting a bad rap because of me.”
Ashley sighed in his ear and his dick immediately responded. “I’m feeling better, thank you. I guess I’m doing things backward today. Most people work all day and then sleep, I slept all day and am now going to work.”
“Where are you going?” he demanded, and at the same time heard a man speak in the background.
“Don’t worry. I won’t overdo it. It’s really rather scary but there was a bottle of water in my refrigerator. I took a sip of it last night and thought it was sour. Thank God I spit it out. We took it down to the lab and it was heavily laced with ISIS. Danny was in my house last night and he’s agreed to meet me down at the station and be fingerprinted, just to eliminate him as a suspect,” she said, laughing. “He’s seriously grouchy with me for even suggesting he could do som
ething so terrible as murder women with a date rape drug. But he’s the only one who was in my house.”
Again the man in the background said something. Ashley mumbled a response. “And yes, I know,” she continued, speaking to Chase. “I wasn’t alone last night. So I guess if my ex comes away clean than I’ll have to seek out the guy I was with last night.”
Chase wouldn’t even consider the possibility that Ashley might think him guilty. “Ash,” he growled. “Your ex is going to run. You tell your captain right this minute who I am or I’ll call the police station and demand to be put through to him myself.”
“That really is a very bad idea,” she whispered. “Thanks for calling, though. If I have time I’m heading to that store where Chris and the others bought those bracelets.”
“I’ll head over there now.” More than anything he wanted to see Ashley. There was something she wasn’t telling him, though. Chase hated not being in the loop, but for some reason she didn’t want him coming over and she didn’t want her captain, who he was sure was the man in the background, knowing he was on the phone. “Quit covering for me, Ash,” he added.
“You’ll have to trust me. But I promise not to work too hard.” Again she laughed.
“And you have to trust me,” he growled, his insides tensing at the thought something else might have happened that she couldn’t tell him about right now.
“I do. Believe me, I do,” she said quietly. “Well, I better get going.”
“Ashley,” he growled, but she’d hung up on him. “Damn it,” he howled and almost threw his phone at his wind-shield.
He had parked downtown in a stall not too far from the Crossing when his cell rang again. The moment he saw the number he flipped it open, ready to snap.
“Don’t ever hang up on me again,” he growled.
“Calm down,” Ashley said. “Captain Sullivan is convinced you’re a very likely suspect and I don’t have time to waste chasing false leads.”
It was nice hearing Ashley didn’t suspect him. “And he wouldn’t think that if you didn’t try to protect me. I should have called you sooner, or told you not to keep my identity a secret.”
“I did it as much for my own pride as anything else, but we can fight about this later,” she said, sounding tense. “I’m supposed to be on my way to the station.”
“Supposed to be, where are you headed?” Chase reached the Crossing and pushed a heavy wooden door open, getting a powerful whiff of incense the moment he set foot in the eclectic store.
“Over to Danny’s. Remember I told you about those earrings? I think Danny took them. Those earrings on Mary Harcourt were mine. He showed up at my house after Mindy’s death to make sure I knew how distraught he was about it, but he also admitted he’d been dating her. I know he knew Chris and now she’s dead. And she was too close-mouthed about that bracelet.”
“You think Danny gave the bracelets to all the victims?” he asked, spotting a gray-haired woman behind the counter and lowering his voice. “Don’t head over to his house without backup. He’s already tried to kill you once.”
“Exactly. Which is why he broke into my house the other night. He wanted to kill me. I’m not sure why he agreed so amiably to coming down to the station but he won’t show, and I’m not going to let him get away.”
“Don’t hang up,” Chase hissed. “Stay on the line while I find out about those bracelets.”
“Okay.” Maybe it was his imagination but she sounded tired, or possibly scared. Chase’s insides tightened as an overwhelming protective instinct damn near kicked his ass.
He reached the counter and put his phone down, the woman behind the counter eyeballing it as if it might leap up and bite her. There wasn’t time to play out the scene. He needed answers now. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and produced his badge.
“Hi, ma’am, I’m Special Agent Chase Reed. I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, paling noticeably.
“You sell a thin rope bracelet that has small knots in it,” he began.
She nodded and gestured with her head to a table next to him. “Those,” she said.
Chase looked at a table, covered with a piece of purple cloth with a variety of jewelry on it. He immediately noticed a row of thin, roped bracelets, but there weren’t any knots in them.
“Yes, but these had knots in them.”
“The person who buys them puts the knots in them,” she explained, moving around the table and picking up one of the bracelets. “Usually the knots are made according to a series of accomplishments. They are life bracelets. If there are goals, or events the person needs to leap through to reach their meaning in life, they create the knots for each one.”
Chase nodded. “Have you had a male customer come in and buy several of these in the past month?”
“They are really popular. But other than my carpenter, no one has taken more than one.”
“What’s your carpenter’s name?”
“Danny Surrelli. He’s a wonderful craftsman,” she explained and pointed to a glass-enclosed cabinet along the wall. “He made this for me as well as all of the tables in here.”
Returning to the counter, he pulled a pen out of a colorful cup and picked up one of her business cards. “This is you?” She nodded. “And all of your contact information?”
“Is there a problem?” She frowned at the card in his hand.
“Not anymore. Thank you, ma’am. You’ve been a great help.” Chase grabbed his phone from the counter and stalked out of the store. “Did you hear that?” he asked, turning and heading down the street for his car. Ashley didn’t answer him. “Ash, you there?”
He climbed into his SUV, straining to hear faint background noise coming through the phone. It seemed Ashley had put the phone down, but something told him to hold off screaming into the phone to grab her attention. There was a pay phone halfway down the street and Chase jumped out of his car, digging into his pocket for change as he hurried to the phone.
“Just be listed, motherfucker,” he grumbled, feeling the pain from tight muscles throughout his body. Ashley didn’t have the support of her police force, probably because, although she believed she was doing the right thing, she’d become involved with him. Maybe his work ethics sucked according to every suit in the agency, but he’d be damned if Ashley came out of this case marred in any way.
He dropped the coins into the phone and dialed directory assistance. “Danny Surrelli, Wichita,” he told the animated voice. Then pressing his cell to his ear, he struggled to hear what faint noises sounded through the cell phone while waiting impatiently for directory assistance on the pay phone to search for the number. “Bingo!” he hissed, when the number was repeated by the animated voice.
Writing it down on the back of the card he’d taken from the Crossing, he hurried back to his car and pressed the button on his key chain to unlock all of his car doors. There were advantages to living in an age of modern technology and gadgets. Chase pulled a briefcase out of the back of his SUV, popped it open, and slid out the flat laptop and cord to plug it into his car lighter.
And in spite of modern technology, it still seemed it took forever to boot the damn thing up, wait for the desktop to load, then dig the small gizmo out of his glove compartment that plugged into the laptop and gave him instant access to the Internet. They were tools he didn’t use often, but in a pinch, it sure as hell beat trying to convince dispatch at the local police station that he was an FBI agent who had a right to know where one of their police officer’s ex-husbands lived. By the time reverse lookup provided him with an address, there wasn’t a sound coming through Ashley’s cell phone.
“Hold on, baby, I’m coming,” he whispered, squealing out of the parking stall and heading to Danny Surrelli’s home.
There was a patrol car parked in front of the address he’d written down on the back of the card, and Chase pulled in behind it, cutting the engine and hurrying across the yard
to the front door. He knocked firmly on the door. If the police were here, and not Ashley using a squad car since her car was parked at his house, they would open quickly. Chase pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to show his badge. No one answered. Chase turned the doorknob. It was locked.
“If you’ve hurt her . . .” he growled, not giving it another thought but stepping back, kicking the doorknob and breaking the lock. He pushed the door open, pulling his gun out of his shoulder holster and shoving his wallet back in his pocket as he entered the home. “Ashley?” he yelled.
“Back up, boy toy, and get the fuck out of here,” a stocky blond growled as he slowly rose to his feet.
Ashley lay on the floor, her clothes torn and her face tearstained. There was a wild, frantic look in her eyes as she stared up at Chase, but she didn’t get to her feet when Danny did. Next to her, on the floor, was a shot glass filled with a clear liquid.
“I said leave!” Danny bellowed.
Chase didn’t hesitate. Pulling the trigger, he aimed and fired. The gun exploded and Ashley screamed.
CHAPTER 9
ASHLEY PULLED into the gravel driveway and parked. She stared at the ranch-style house sitting back from the street with the tall juniper trees scattered throughout the yard. Although she’d been here before, she didn’t remember Chase’s house. It looked masculine, solid and secure, just like Chase.
Two weeks had passed since he’d shot her ex, and with the case wrapped up and Danny out of the hospital and behind bars awaiting his trial, life had returned to normal for the most part. Except for the nagging yearning inside her that wouldn’t go away. When she’d returned from lunch to the message that Chase had called, inviting her to dinner, she’d called him back without hesitating. All she’d been able to do was leave voice mail.
