When they kissed, she wanted.
He’d gotten past her guard when no other man had. Because of their shared past? Perhaps. But maybe it was just because he was...Thomas.
He let the kiss linger. She never wanted it to end. She wished they didn’t have a killer waiting. She wanted to be with Thomas. To push away the fear and worry and simply live.
But he stepped back. “My first loyalty is to you. Remember that.”
She could still taste him.
“From here on out, it always will be.” He turned away from her and marched down the hall.
Noelle realized her fingers were trembling again, and a chill had slid down her spine. It was strange. Thomas’s words had sounded like a warning.
But what else did he need to protect her from?
* * *
THE LITTLE SHERIFF’S station in Camden didn’t have any interrogation rooms, but the place did sport two cells. And Patrick Porter was currently pacing the floor in one of those narrow cells.
When Noelle started walking toward him, he immediately stopped that pacing. His head snapped up, and he smiled at her.
She heard Thomas growl behind her.
She and Thomas were the only two conducting this interrogation. Mercer had gotten Aaron to install a video camera, and the feed was going back to him. Mercer wouldn’t be making a personal appearance for this questioning period, though, not unless he absolutely needed to do so. Noelle knew when it came to EOD prisoners, Mercer had a policy of standing back.
Because he’d been burned too many times before.
“Did the sheriff die?” Patrick didn’t sound particularly concerned about that possibility. Actually, he was more gleeful.
Noelle shook her head. “He’s stable.” At least, that was what she’d been told moments before. “He’s on his way to the hospital. Your bullet missed its mark.”
The glee faded as the faint lines near his eyes tightened. “I don’t miss my mark.”
“You did this time.” She nodded toward him. Blood had broken through on his shirt. “Maybe the wound I gave you made you weak.”
He laughed. “Nothing makes me weak.” His gaze slid to Thomas. “Bet you can’t say the same.”
Thomas didn’t say anything.
“We want to know where the bodies are,” Noelle said softly. “That’s the only reason we’re talking to you right now. We know about all of the victims, starting with Emma Jane in Charleston.”
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“You have no clue about my victims.” Disgust laced the words.
“We found your photographs. We saw the girls—”
Patrick laughed. She truly hated the sound of his grating laughter. His eyes were still on Thomas, but they were starting to fill with what looked like...recognition? “I’ll be damned,” the killer said as he advanced toward the bars. “It really is you...and she has no clue, does she? Dragon.”
Thomas still wasn’t speaking.
Patrick’s fingers curled around the bars. “Your hair’s shorter. Your face is harder. Looks like you broke your nose a few times over the years.” He laughed. “They’ve got you in here? Don’t they know what you’ve done?” His gaze came back to Noelle. “What he did to you.”
When they’d been in that hallway, Thomas sure hadn’t mentioned he knew the suspect. But then, he’d been busy kissing her. Noelle’s heart was galloping in her chest, but she didn’t let her expression alter. Dragon. The guy could’ve learned of Thomas’s moniker in a dozen ways. He could just be playing with them now.
“I want to know where those girls are,” Noelle said again.
Patrick’s hold tightened around the bars. “Get the Dragon here to tell you.”