“The photos show remnants of heavy makeup. The remaining coloring reminds me of a doll. Pale skin, red lips. The pictures prove Kara didn’t wear any makeup to the party. The fact that makeup was on her face makes no sense. Especially considering she’d been missing five days.”
Puzzle pieces snapped into place. “Someone else applied it.”
“That’s what I think.” Her fingers gripped the edges of the file tighter. “I think someone kept her drugged and sedated her like Diane.”
“The killer wasn’t planning to take her,” he said, letting the theory take shape. “He used what he had at the time. Barbiturates and face paint. And he overdosed either by accident or intentionally.” The end result was the same. His sister was dead.
She opened the file and rustled through the papers. “I also discovered the medical examiner found DNA on her. At the time, it didn’t match anyone in the system, but that was twelve years ago. The science is more refined now. Long story short, I’ve requested retesting, and I’ve also asked the DNA be cross-checked against the DNA found on Diane Richardson and Terrance Dillon.”
Sharp rose and paced the room. He stared at her, not trusting himself to speak. Answers dangled just out of reach.
She stood, set the file aside, and moved toward him. “Have you found Elena?”
“Not yet.” He flexed his fingers. “Madison dated Kara, Diane, and you.”
“He did not date me. I kind of had a crush on him, and he came by to see me several times after my accident. It was never romantic.”
“For you. You can’t speak to what he was thinking.”
“He never gave me any indication he was interested.”
“It’s a connection to all four of you. And until he’s found, I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”
“Anywhere? That’s kind of ridiculous. I mean, this is Stanford. The guy played cards and watched old movies with me while I was in a leg cast.”
“I don’t care if the fucker read bedtime stories to you every night. He knew all three victims, has professional artistic skill, and now has dumped all his work in the trash and vanished. We have no samples of his DNA yet, and until we do and can prove his innocence, you need to be on high alert.”
“Dakota—”
He captured her wrist with his hand. “You did a great job, Tessa. I listened to every word you said. Now it’s time for you to listen and let me do my job.”
She looked at his hand on her wrist. Laying her hand over his, she pulled his fingers free and took his other hand in hers. Her touch was warm. Soft. Somewhere inside him, he felt locks tumble free and a door open. Emotions raced toward the light.
“I’m going to solve this.” His voice sounded distant, hoarse.
“And then what?” she challenged.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. After this case, we figure us out.”
How could he make a promise to her he didn’t know he could keep? He was far from perfect, but he’d never lied to her. “None of our problems will be fixed by solving this case.”
“I don’t believe that. Kara’s case is the root of it all.”
“And what if it isn’t?”
She shook her head. “Did I ever tell you I had a little crush on you when I saw you that last Christmas? I tried to get your attention, but you didn’t see me.”
“I saw you.”
That prompted a nervous smile. “You did a good impression of pretending you didn’t.”
“You were seventeen. Underage. And I was home on leave. And it’s not acceptable to mess with your sister’s friend.”
“It was bad timing all around.” The words carried more meaning than they should have.
“We never really got the timing right.”
“No.” He tried to pull free of her touch, but her fingers tightened around him. How much of the past would have to be exorcised for them to now have a chance?
“After seeing Diane and her face destroyed, I understand better why you’re so driven. It’s one thing to believe in monsters, but entirely another to cross paths with a real one. It’s hard to know that someone is getting away with such cruelty.”
Anger burned in his chest. He broke their connection, his fingers flexing involuntarily. “This killer isn’t getting away with it.”
She took his fist and slowly uncurled his fingers. She traced the scar slashing across his lifeline on his palm. “Despite all our differences, I know you’re good at what you do. Without you, a lot of evil would be walking free.”
He looked at her long finger with its neat, trimmed nail circling the scar. She’d been so young when they first met, but each time he saw her, he was more drawn to her. He’d never made a single pass at her. And later, after they were married and mired in turmoil, when she told him she had to leave, he’d again taken that damned high road. Didn’t fight. Didn’t argue. Accepting. Alone.
At this moment, he was tired of walking the same lonely, shitty road. Righteousness didn’t welcome him home at night or warm his bed.
He wanted her. Wanted to feel like she once made him feel. Whole.
Moving his hand over hers, he wrapped his fingers around hers, savoring the warmth. He waited for her to pull free, for any sign she didn’t want his touch. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. She simply stared into his eyes.
Sharp leaned his head forward and kissed her softly on the lips. She closed her eyes, leaning into the kiss. The sex had always been great between them, but it hadn’t been enough. Temporary glue that couldn’t withstand the storms.
But temporary was good enough right now. An urgency hummed in his veins. God, but she tasted sweet. This moment felt like a homecoming.
He released one hand, letting it roam over her shoulders and to the small of her back. He pulled her against him. He wanted her to feel him. To know just how damn much he wanted her.
Given a choice right now, he’d pull her into the bedroom, shut off the world outside, and thrust inside her until he’d exorcised all the pent-up pain begging for release.
But when his other hand slid from her hair over her neck to her breasts, she tensed. Reining in his desire, he waited.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “I want this.”
He felt the thrust of her breast into his hand. Need elbowed past worry and any kind of resolve to keep his distance, and he gently brushed her nipple, feeling it harden through her sweater.
Months and too many issues had separated them, but he remembered her body and what pressure points made her forsake common sense and drop her guard.
As he kissed her, he continued to tease the tip of her nipple with his thumb and forefinger, all the while feeling her body melting into him. She moaned his name, her breath brushing against his skin.
God, he craved her.
“Are you sure?” he asked, wondering what the hell he’d do if she said no.
“Don’t stop.” The hoarse words traveled on a whisper.
He clasped her breast, and then glided his hand along her flat belly to the top of her jeans. He slid fingers under the waistband, taking pleasure when she sucked in her breath. He opened the snap with the flick of his fingers. He traced the top line of her panties, and her belly convulsed slightly as her breath hitched.
“I’ve dreamed about this,” she whispered in his ear seconds before she nipped it with her teeth.
Screw the high road. Without another word, he pulled her toward his bedroom and backed her up toward the bed until her legs bumped against the edge. She sat and then lay back. Emotions pent up for too long raged and rushed the gates as he straddled her and pinned her arms above her head. He kissed her again, opening her lips with his tongue. She arched up toward him and captured his bottom lip gently in her teeth.
He grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head, exposing full breasts peeking over the edge of a lace bra. He cupped each breast, kissed them, and sucked the tender skin.
A small whimper escaped her lips. “Best
bad idea we’ve ever had.”
He pushed down her pants, kneeling as he slowly slid them toward her ankles. She worked out one foot as he leaned forward and kissed her at her center before sliding her panties along her legs. He ran his calloused hands up her thighs. She hissed, and he felt the urgency tightening the muscles of her legs.
He unbuckled his belt as he kicked off his shoes and then shoved off his pants. He climbed back on top of her, his erection pressing against her belly. He leaned forward and kissed her stomach, her breasts, and then her lips as he pressed the tip of his erection against her moist center. She tilted her hips, beckoning him in. Desperate to claim her, he thrust inside her. She was so damn tight.
“You okay?” he rasped as he hesitated and waited for her to adjust to him.
“Yes.”
For a moment, neither moved. He kissed her mouth and neck as her breasts rubbed against his chest. Slowly he moved in and out. Each time he thrust his hips, she opened more for him, growing wetter with each thrust.
She slid her hands to his ass and squeezed. “Harder,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and tipped her head back.
“Look at me.” His voice was sandpaper as he grabbed a handful of her long hair and pulled her head forward. This time he pushed harder, with greater urgency. “Look at me.”