The time for her coyness had passed. “Look, I know the last time we hooked up, it meant more to me than it did to you. I get that. I’m trying not to make the same mistake twice.”
“It was a tough time for me. You were a perfect light in the darkness, but I wasn’t ready to feel good or be happy. I woke up that morning and for the first time didn’t think about Karen, and I felt guilty as hell.”
She braced for another rejection. “It’s okay.”
“I’m not that guy anymore.”
She shook her head. “I’m not the same gal. My life has more complications than it did before.”
“Hanna’s a good kid.”
“She is and she’s also a teenager with abandonment issues. It’s not always easy. We’re a package. Like Cooper and I are a package on the job.”
He traced her jawline with his thumb.
“I understand.”
A muscle tensed in his jaw as he stared at her. Without a word, he tipped his head forward and kissed her. Against her lips, he whispered, “You’re better than I remember. And a few hours isn’t going to cut it for me.”
His hand came up and stroked her breast and she leaned into the touch, every nerve in her body firing again.
“I love your hair,” he said as he raised a lock of it to his nose. “It still smells like roses.”
When he entered her the second time, her breath caught in her throat and she had to fight not to rush to orgasm. It had been too long since she’d been touched like this.
He rose, staring at her with an intensity that stole her breath. He moved faster and faster while the heat built inside her so quickly she couldn’t stop it. Within seconds her body tensed and she climaxed, the sensations rolling over her like crashing waves.
“Riley,” he said.
He kissed her as he thrust deeper inside her, and within seconds, climaxed even harder than the first time. Finally, he rolled on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Despite what they shared, she couldn’t read his expression. She’d promised herself this would be casual. She would not get invested. But she’d dealt with enough liars to know she was lying to herself.
Her phone rang, and as she sat up to get it, he grabbed a handful of her hair and playfully tugged.
“I need to check. Hanna is traveling.”
He released her, relaxing back against the pillow. This was a man who understood duty.
She found her pants on the floor and unclipped her cell phone from the waistband.
“Tatum, this is Sharp. I thought you might like to know we have two more bodies.”
Her thoughts went to Sandy, to Jo-Jo, and other girls she’d spoken to over the last few days. “Who?”
“Not over the phone. You have to see this. I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.” She hung up, holding the phone close to her chest before she squared her shoulders.
Bowman traced his hand over her back. “What?”
“They found two bodies. Sharp won’t say who.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks. Second set of eyes might pick up something.”
She quickly dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and ankle boots before going to get Cooper. “Work time, Cooper.”
No matter what time of day it was or how little sleep they’d both had, Cooper was always ready to work. After Riley texted the address to Bowman’s phone, she pulled on her belt and holstered her gun. She ran fingers through her hair and made a ponytail.
At the front door, Bowman grabbed her arm and tugged her close, kissing her on the lips.
She smiled, and without a word, they each got into their vehicles. Twenty minutes later they arrived at the rural scene.
Several marked local and state cars were at the scene, as was the news van with Eddie Potter. The man must live on the police scanner.
Potter spotted her and started to move toward her. She heard Bowman get out of his SUV and slam the door closed, but she didn’t dare look back. The last thing she needed was Potter suspecting a connection between her and Bowman.
She moved toward the reporter, her hand outstretched. “Mr. Potter, you keep long hours.”
“I couldn’t pass this up. Can you tell me anything about the victim?”
“I just arrived. I suggest you talk to Agent Sharp.”
The reporter’s face soured. “Tried that. Would rather not get my head bitten off again.”
She forced down a smile. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I do need to check in.”
“You’ll double back and talk to me?”
“Can’t make any promises.”
Bowman had moved across the field toward the yellow crime scene tape and caught Sharp’s attention. As she moved toward them, she heard Sharp’s deep voice. “We don’t know much at this point. I checked local property records on the way out here. No connection to the victims.”
“Who are they?” Riley asked.
“Jax Carter and Darla Johnson,” Sharp replied.
“What!” Riley didn’t hide her surprise.
“Go look for yourself.”
Sharp handed them latex gloves, which they each donned before ducking under the tape. Riley walked up to Martin as he snapped pictures. “Mind if Mr. Bowman has a look? He’s worked his share of homicides.”
“Sure. I don’t mind.”
Bowman followed Riley into the crime scene. They stared at thick ropes tossed over a beam and wrapped around the man’s and woman’s necks. The two dangled, their heads slumped forward, mouths agape, and the settling blood darkening their limp fingers. “Have you checked their pockets yet?” Riley asked.
“Not yet,” Martin said. “I’m still photographing the scene.”
“Mind if I check?” Bowman asked.
Martin stood back. “Let Agent Sharp do it, and I’ll photograph him.”
Sharp stepped forward and reached into Carter’s back jeans pocket. He found a wallet stuffed full of money. “Not a robbery.” He dropped the wallet into a plastic evidence bag and checked the other back pocket. Sharp pulled out a playing card. It was a joker.
“Another card?” Martin asked.
Sharp held up the card and studied the morbid smile of the joker in the center. The very ordinary card wasn’t like the ones found on the dead girls. “I suppose this is some kind of message.”
“They both were bit players in all this,” Bowman said. “And whatever they did, the Shark didn’t like it.”
The Shark stared at the videotape of the girl sitting in the chair. Drugged and nearly unconscious, she possessed the physical beauty he always craved. Long dark hair. A slim face. Tapered hands. Like Angie. All were angels damaged and ruined by the streets, all of whom he set free from this world’s pain and suffering.
Angie had been dead for twelve years, but he still couldn’t forget her. He’d thought killing her would cleanse her from his senses, but she had burrowed deep under his skin and pierced his soul. Even now, she invaded his dreams, laughing at him, calling him common. “You’re pathetic,” she said.
Killing her was never the plan. He’d wanted her to love him and to understand the depth of his feelings. But instead of acceptance, she’d laughed and turned away from him. She’d shown him her back. Disrespected him—something she’d never have done if not for the streets.
On that long-ago night, he’d snapped, grabbed her, and spun her around. Still, his frustration had amused her. She’d pouted as if looking at a small harmless child. He never remembered wrapping his hands around her neck. He was so lost in his own grief, he didn’t hear her choke and gasp as he squeezed until the smile vanished and panic bloomed in her gaze. Her fingers, long and delicate, rose to his, trying to pry them free as pain distorted her features.
Her killing should have satisfied him. But even after all these years, he still heard her laughter. He still saw her in his dreams, mocking him.
The girl on the tape was not Angie. She was Riley. But she was so very similar to Angie that the
y could have been sisters. He traced the computer screen with his index finger; the sight of her could make him weep. She didn’t look damaged, but he knew the streets had ruined her as they had destroyed Angie.
“I’ve won,” the other player said.
Twelve years hadn’t dulled the sting of disbelief. For the first time, he’d lost.
“Pay your debt,” the winner said. “Give me my money and the girl.”
Watching the recording, the Shark reached for a glass of bourbon and drank it in one gulp, wincing as the liquid burned his throat. She had been so drugged, she barely noticed his touch.
Refilling the glass, he raised it to his lips and stared at Riley’s image, picturing the cord wrapping around her neck. He imagined her rapid pulse beating against the cord. The need to kill her—to kill Angie again—burning so strong.
Shoving aside the countless regrets he still attached to the day he lost Riley, he curled his fingers into fists, remembering what the video recording didn’t capture.
“You aren’t doing her any favors,” the Shark said. “She’s been on the streets. She’s damaged. She’ll never be right.”
“That’s my problem. Not yours.”
“You’re making a mistake. Kill her.”
“Not today.”