by Jen Talty
The sound of metal ripping open caught her attention. “I told you to sleep in the Jeep.”
“Yeah. Well, that’s not going to happen.” Jag stepped into the tent, tossing the sleeping bag onto the foam mattress. “There is a divider you can put up if you want, but the space heater is on my side, and that will keep the warmth mostly with me, and it’s already dropped to about forty degrees outside. But that’s your call.” He shimmied out of his jeans before hiking up a pair of sweatpants and slipping into the sleeping bag. “And for the record, I’ve never stopped looking for your sister’s killer. Never. But it’s fucking damn hard when the trail is as cold as it is.” He rolled, turning his back to her. “Good night.”
“Have you uncovered anything? Because I have come across some things when it comes to my sister, and I have some new theories.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure you do.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I have a new theory, but it doesn’t fit the FBI profile, and when I’ve talked to Matt Montgomery and Levi Crawford, they’ve poked holes in it.”
She reached out and rested her hand on his back. “Jag. Talk to me. Please. I’m sorry how I reacted.”
He rolled, tucking his hands under his cheek. The light from the lantern lit up his dark eyes. “A lot of people don’t understand that your sister was a lesbian. They think because she was born with male parts that as a woman she still liked women that as a man she must have been straight.” He let out a long breath. “Stephanie was a gay woman who just happened to be transgender. Renee was a gay woman. I think whoever killed them might have been their gay lovers.”
“Wait. Are you suggesting that Renee was cheating on Kara?” She propped herself up on her elbow. “Kara always said they had such a great relationship, and just about everyone I talked to said they had the kind of marriage most of us dreamed of having.”
“Well, as you know, Renee’s hairdresser told the police that Renee was thinking of leaving Kara.”
“That’s why the cops thought Kara could have killed Renee, but she was cleared pretty quickly.”
“After I was reinstated and I had some time to lick my wounds after we broke up, I went back to that theory, and I found something disturbing.”
Callie found herself snuggling closer to Jag as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
Old habits died hard.
“What was that?”
“Renee did have an affair with a woman by the name Alley Gilbert. It was a short fling, and Alley thought no one knew about it. She also didn’t know Renee had been murdered since the affair happened right before she was deployed for six months, and when she came back, she reunited with her girlfriend and got married. It wasn’t until you named the killer that she even knew, but she never said anything until I started poking around.”
“So, it couldn’t have been this Alley chick?”
“Nope.”
“But if Renee cheated once, she could have cheated another time,” Callie said. “As my sister always said, once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“I don’t know if I buy that, but in this case, if the Trinket Killer is a woman and knew both Renee and your sister, then it’s possible.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
“I didn’t know until about six months ago, and we weren’t talking right around that time.” He scooted a little closer, pulling down the zipper of his sleeping bag.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s cold.”
She laughed. “The heater is on.”
“We’ll be warmer this way.” He fiddled with the clasp of her bag, tugging it down slowly. He groaned. “Jesus. Aren’t you freezing?”
“I am now,” she said, moving as quickly as she could to connect the two sleeping bags so he’d stop staring at her in her bra and panties.
“I packed you a shirt and sweatpants.”
“I left it in the back of the Jeep, and I wasn’t in the mood to face you,” she admitted.
“Here.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “You can wear that; I’ll keep the pants though.”
“Deal.” She quickly wiggled the cotton fabric over her body, enjoying the fresh pine scent that smelled exactly like she remembered. When they’d been a couple, she used to love to grab one of his shirts and sleep in it when he was working late or not going to be around that night. He had a thick outdoorsy scent that reminded her of being in the woods in the spring when all the trees were blooming.
“Come here,” he whispered.
She rested her head on his chest and splayed her hand over his stomach. “Did Kara know her wife cheated on her?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good. That would have broken her heart, and it’s bad enough her wife was murdered.” By the time Callie had met Kara, it had been more than year since Renee had passed. While Kara was still bitter and angry, she was more interested and curious in the process of finding a serial killer.
And helping in any way she could.
It became her passion.
Until the Trinket Killer just stopped killing.
Of course, there had been Stephanie’s murder, which changed things for Callie, turning her into a crazy woman, and Kara nearly walked out of her life.
“But if Kara had known or suspected? Well, you know where my mind goes,” he said.
She lifted her head, pressing her chin on his shoulder. “But that doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. A few months ago, I tried to put Kara at all the crime scenes or connect her to them, but I got nothing. Plus, what would be the motive? Especially to kill your sister. So I then tried to trace it back to this Alley chick, and I thought I was getting somewhere, but she was deployed during three other murders, including Stephanie’s.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back in a tender, loving motion. Just like he’d done so many nights when they’d been together. “But my investigation has pretty much stalled out there.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For at least trying.”
“Besides being the detective in charge when we realized we had a serial killer, I cared about Stephanie. She was my friend. She was going to be my sister-in-law. I loved her too, you know.”
“I know.” She kissed his chest. “Do you really think we could be looking for a woman?”
“Female serial killers are rare, but they exist.”
“But do they kill that violently?” she asked.
“I’ve seen some pretty gruesome things in my day, and some of them have been achieved by girls.”
She inhaled sharply, letting it out in a big puff.
He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. He gazed into her eyes, holding her captive. A year ago, all her hopes and dreams came in the form of Jagar Bowie. He was the sun that warmed her skin and the air that filled her lungs.
But they were doomed from the beginning.
She knew it then, and she knew it now.
Yet, if he kissed her, she wouldn’t stop him.
His warm hand slipped under her shirt. His fingers fiddled with the elastic on her thong.
Her breath came in short choppy pants as she continued to stare into his smoldering gaze. He’d been an intense and demanding lover, but she freely caved to whatever he wanted, because she craved exactly the same thing. Their lovemaking had often been rough and urgent. It was as if they could never quite get enough of each other.
Or they were terrified that tomorrow it would all be over.
Right now, lying in his arms, she just wanted to enjoy the moment.
“Do you remember the first night we camped here?” he asked.
She laughed. “You sent me a text daring me to meet you at the ferry dock. We’d only been out together once or twice.”
He lifted his head and gently brushed his mouth over hers. “We had wild, crazy sex twice. I wouldn’t call that having gone on a date. Our little camping trip would be what I cons
ider that. It’s where we really got to know one another as people, not adversaries.”
She palmed his cheek. “Why’d you bring me here tonight?”
“To remember who we once were and to forgive all the crap.” He curled his fingers around her wrist. “When you showed up at my apartment to tell me you were leaving Seattle and you planned on writing this book, we both ended up saying a lot of shitty things to each other. I honestly believed I’d never see you again. I thought my heart stopped at Levi’s send-off party. I wanted to hate you. I wanted to blame you for everything that happened, and I really tried to. I’d been holding on to it for so long that I believed the narrative I had created. However, the truth is you said some things that hit too close to home, and I didn’t want to take a deep look at myself. Moving to Whidbey, and giving myself some space and time, forced me to do exactly that.”
“I know what you mean. You were right about certain character flaws about me.” She snuggled in closer, pushing her knee between his legs. “Can we just let all that go now and work together so I can get the book done and maybe give the cold case unit something to work with? My goal is still to find Stephanie’s killer.”
“I’m good with all of that as long as you don’t let it consume you. I want you to promise me that you will write your next crime book and move about the country and live your life. Don’t stay stuck.”
“I promise.” Lying to him came too easily. She’d never put finding Stephanie’s killer on the back burner. It would always be the first thing on her mind and when any lead came her way, she’d drop whatever she was doing to pursue it.
She just needed a fucking lead.
He threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her hard. His tongue pushed through her lips and assaulted her mouth with passionate desperation. He rolled to his back, pulling her body over his.
They fit together like an old leather driving glove. A little tight to pull on, but once settled against the skin, it was as if it had never been removed.
She straddled his waist and rose up, lifting the shirt hem.
His fingers dug into her thighs, and his dark eyes widened with delight the second she tossed the piece of clothing to the side.
Immediately his hands reached up and unhooked the front clasp of her bra. He pressed his hot lips against the space between her breasts. His thumbs and index fingers pinching and twisting each nipple.
She cradled his head in her hands, guiding his mouth to one of her exposed tits and stared at him while she slowly and deliberately rolled her hips.
He hissed. Grabbing her ass, he lifted her off him and flipped her on to her back with a thud.
“Umph.”
“Sorry, but not really,” he said with an amused smile. He jumped to his feet, kicking off his sweats.
“Then you won’t be mad when I do this.”
She knelt in front of him, slipping her fingers into the front of his underwear.
“I could never be mad when your hands are…oh, dear Lord,” he said with a throaty groan.
Cupping him with one hand, she gently ran the other one up and down the length of him, his hard skin soft and supple. She watched in glorious wonderment as she stroked and massaged him. She’d had a couple of short-lived affairs in the last few months, but not only did they mean nothing, they weren’t very satisfying.
A slow, warm shiver weaved up her body like an ocean lapping at the shore.
He pooled her hair on top of her head.
She glanced up at him and smiled just as she flicked her tongue out, rolling it over the tip.
“Oh fuck,” he said, tossing his head back and holding her hair a little tighter. “Sweet Jesus, you’re good at that.”
“You said that our first night together.” Closing her eyes, she took more into her mouth, concentrating on the groans and hissing noises coming from his as well as the way his hand tugged slightly at her hair. He never pushed or forced her. She always figured that was his way of keeping some kind of composure.
“And I wasn’t lying. Best I’ve ever…oh, my motherfucking God.” He tugged her head, pulling her off him, and dropped to his knees, shoving his tongue deep in her mouth, swirling around, finding every crevice. His hands fumbled with her thong as he pushed her to her back, pulling the flimsy undergarment to her ankles and tossing them across the tent. He rested her legs over his shoulders and licked his lips. “It’s not completely shaved like it used to be, and let me tell you, I love it.” He didn’t waste any time diving between her legs.
A wave a dizziness filled her brain. She blinked. And blinked again, trying to make the tent stop spinning, but it didn’t work.
She dropped her head back and tried to take in a deep breath, but with his hands on her breasts, and his tongue swirling over her hard nub, it became impossible.
He continued to tease her, bringing her body close to the edge, only to pull back and not let her go over. He’d been a master at bringing her to the kind of climax that went on for a good ten minutes. It was never just one orgasm. It was five or six, one right after the other, never giving her a rest in between. It built up deep in her gut, growing from a tropical storm into a category five hurricane that covered her entire body.
“Oh, dear, God,” she said, stiffening her lower body and gritting her teeth. If she wasn’t mistaken, he chuckled.
Which only made her stomach tighten more. Her toes curled, and she dug her heels into his ass. Her fingers dug into the scalp of his head as she tossed hers back and forth. “Why do you do this to me?”
He lifted his head, licking his lips, and smiled. “Because I can and because you love it.”
“Oh, fucking yes, I do.”
He slipped two fingers inside, curling them upward, reaching the sweet spot while his tongue danced on her hard nub like a feather floating in the air. He nipped at it with his teeth, sending her over the edge for the first time.
“Yes,” she whispered as the first wave made her tummy quiver.
“Do you want more?” he asked.
“Stop torturing me.”
He chuckled. “Babe, you live for me to torture you.” He sat between her legs, teasing and tasting, plucking and twisting until she called out his name over and over again.
“Please,” she begged. Her body shook like a herd of elephants on the run from a group of hungry lions. Each orgasm more intense than the other and her mind, body, and soul braced for final impact.
“Gladly.” He lifted her off the floor, turning her to all fours, spreading her legs, and easing inside.
She arched her back, leaning into him, raising up on her knees, and reaching behind her so she could wrap her hands around his neck.
He grabbed ahold of her breasts, squeezing them tight as he drove himself deep inside her. She had to fall forward, pressing her hands against the ground just to remain upright.
“Jag,” she whispered, her body betraying her as another climax tore through her muscles. It was so intense she shifted forward, stretching out on her stomach.
He rammed into her three times before arching his back and groaning. He held that position for a good minute before he slowly lowered himself to the side, pulling her to him and kissing her neck. “I’ve never had any control when I’m with you.” He pulled the sleeping bag up over their bodies.
She let out a long sigh. “Jag?”
“What, babe?”
“You know I truly, honestly loved you, right?”
“I know,” he said. “I loved…I still love you. I probably always will. I guess that’s what they say about first loves.”
She closed her eyes tight, squeezing out a couple of tears. “I still love you too. Only, we’re not the same people we used to be.”
“Thank God for that.” He kissed her temple. “Get some sleep. I’ll answer all your questions for your book in the morning.”
Callie let her body relax as she took in a few cleansing breaths. She wasn’t even sure of what she wanted to ask anymore. All she knew was that as m
uch as she loved him, he couldn’t be in her life long term.
Chapter 7
Jag blinked open his eyes and smiled. His heart swelled. It had been a long time since he woke with the woman he loved more than life itself in his arms. It felt surreal.
But he knew it wouldn’t last because he knew she would never give up her search for her sister’s killer. She would never be able to put anyone else before finding Stephanie’s killer.
He could understand that, and he didn’t blame her. He certainly wasn’t mad at her for it. If it were one of his siblings, he’d never rest until he brought the murderer to justice.
Hell, he wasn’t about to let it go until Stephanie and all the other victims had a voice, and that meant he had to find the Trinket Killer if it was the last thing he did.
He hugged Callie close, kissing her temple before slipping from the makeshift bed and hiking up his jeans and pulling a sweatshirt over his head. Last night had been about forgiveness. It had been their way of letting go of the past, showing each other that while they still loved and cared for one another other, they were moving on.
It was a goodbye of sorts, and he could live with that.
He slipped from the tent and shivered. The weatherperson had mentioned that the temperatures would drop back to what would be considered normal for this time of year, but it still chilled his bones. He managed to start a fire and put on a pot of water to make instant coffee. It would taste like tar, but it would do the trick to wake up his brain.
And calm his libido.
Because last night couldn’t happen again.
It would break his heart.
He flipped open the cooler and pulled out the eggs and sausage he’d packed and prepped them. It wasn’t going to be a five-star breakfast, but it would get the job done. His cell vibrated.
Matt Montgomery’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” Jag asked.
“I’ve got some news for you. Where are you?”
“Camping at Fort Casey,” Jag said.
