Murder of any kind was pretty unhinged. I’d taken life in the line of duty. But never lightly. And it weighed heavily on me every time.
But this had been done casually. It was blatant. And it almost seemed like… well, it seemed like the killer, or killers, had been having fun.
There was nothing pointing to a crime motivated by greed or territory wars. The Untouchables weren’t at war with anyone. And the business with the burnt bike and the mutilation- There was definitely something psychotic about the whole thing.
I drove towards Charles Street, my fingers tapping the steering wheel. Without even thinking, I turned on my favorite classic rock station after I got off the highway. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done that.
There was a pep in my step as I headed up the walkway to Mason’s house. I knew there was a good chance the girl wasn’t even home. Or that they both were, and he’d make my job more difficult.
But the lights were on, and I was feeling lucky.
I put one hand on my gun and pressed the doorbell.
Ding dong.
Cassandra
I was curled up on the couch in my pajamas, flipping through reality shows when I heard it. Footsteps outside. But they didn’t sound Mason.
No, definitely not biker boots.
I exhaled, realizing my heart had been pounding. I felt like a tiny little bunny, praying there wasn’t a wolf outside the briar patch. Yeah, I was pretty much in fight or flight mode.
And I didn’t much like it.
The doorbell rang. I sort of doubted Dante would ring the doorbell. I swallowed and padded over to the door in my fuzzy slippers.
I peeked out the window with the faded curtain and froze. It was him. The suit was here.
The federal freaking agent was standing outside the door.
The really hot one.
I closed my eyes and prayed for strength. Then I did the only thing I could do. I opened the door.
“It’s a little early for bunnies, isn’t it?”
Bunnies? How did he know what I had just been thinking? I glanced down at my feet.
Oh, right. My slippers. Wake up, Cass.
Fantastic, Mr. Genetically Perfect was seeing me in my PJ’s. Not sexy ones either. I was in a cami with an open hooded sweatshirt and flannel polka dot pajama pants. Very dignified.
Not.
“Mase gave me the night off.”
He quirked a smile at me and I froze. He looked almost boyish when he smiled. It was disarming. It made me forget who he was and why he was here.
To get me murdered.
Basically this guy, who was reasonably nice and undeniably gorgeous, was going to get me killed.
And Mason. Don’t forget about Mason.
“That was nice of him.”
I stood there, still staring at the agent. He wasn’t in his suit tonight. He was in jeans and a casual button down. But he was still on duty.
Don’t forget that. Do not. Forget.
Even if that smile had transformed him completely.
“Um, do you want to sit down?”
He nodded and I stepped back to let him inside.
I got an unexpected whiff of him as he walked past me. He smelled so good. Like the woods where we’d gone camping a few summers ago. Pine and fresh air and something… warm.
He waited for me to lock the door. As big as he was, he managed to fill the small kitchen. I swallowed and led him into the living room.
He watched me like a hawk as I hastened to turn off the TV, embarrassed that the housewives of wherever was on.
He must think I’m an idiot. I am an idiot. Why else would I care what he thinks?
You want him to think you are dumb, Cass. Dumb enough not to notice someone getting killed in a parking lot right in front of your eyes.
I folded the blanket I’d been rolled up in and offered him a seat. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. For a minute we just sat there.
It felt so weird, like we weren’t sure what to say to each other.
I caught Connor staring at me and looked away. Maybe Mason was right… my cheeks got red.
Don’t be stupid Cass. He’s just here to do his job. It’s not a date.
Even if it sort of felt like one.
“Have you remembered anything from last night?”
“Like what?”
He turned to face me, one arm up on the couch. I stared in awe as Cheeto circled Connor’s feet and sat down, staring up at him. Then Besos followed.
Morely watched from his favorite spot above the TV.
The agent glanced at the animals sitting at his feet and looked back at me.
“Like anything.”
I shrugged, trying not to notice how the animals reacted when he casually reached down to pet them. They acted like he was the Second Coming. I frowned, inexplicably annoyed.
“No. I mean, it was packed. Nothing stood out.”