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A KILLER’S CLOSING IN...

When her client and old college friend is murdered, P.I. Kat Justice knows the killer will come for her next. Her survival depends on finding her unknown enemy first...and working with homicide detective Mitch Elliot, her onetime crush. It’ll take all her professional skills to ignore the sparks between them, but Kat can’t allow the handsome cop to get close. She’s seen too many people she loves die, so she vows just to do her job without getting emotionally involved. Yet keeping her distance may not be the best way to protect her heart—or their lives.

“I want to be part of the investigation.”

Mitch should’ve known this was coming. “You know I can’t do that, Kat. You’re a civilian now and the closest thing we have to a witness.”

“No one needs to know I’m helping.”

“I can’t let you help, Kat.”

“What if you were me?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “What would you want?”

“Wouldn’t matter what I wanted, it’s what I’d make sure happened.”

“Exactly. You’d make sure you were included in the investigation. I’m just trying to do the same thing.” She put a hand on his arm and the warmth of her touch melted his resolve.

Having her by his side would be a good thing, right? She wouldn’t let her family surround and protect her from this killer, but if she worked with him, he’d be able to keep an eye on her. Problem was he wanted to keep both eyes on her, and not just to be sure she was okay.

About the Author

SUSAN SLEEMAN grew up in a small Wisconsin town where she spent her summers reading Nancy Drew and developing a love of mystery and suspense books. Today she channels this enthusiasm into hosting the popular internet website TheSuspenseZone.com and writing romantic-suspense and mystery novels.

Much to her husband’s chagrin, Susan loves to look at everyday situations and turn them into murder-and-mayhem scenarios for future novels. If you’ve met Susan, she has probably figured out a plausible way to kill you and get away with it.

Susan currently lives in Florida, but has had the pleasure of living in nine states. Her husband is a church music director and they have two beautiful daughters, a very special son-in-law and an adorable grandson. To learn more about Susan, please visit www.SusanSleeman.com.

Dead Wrong
Susan Sleeman

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Can any one of you by worrying

add a single hour to your life?

—Matthew 6:27

Thanks to

My family: my ever patient and understanding husband, Mark, my daughter Emma

for all the help with editing and Erin

for your graphic design expertise.

My editor, Tina James. Thank you for

continuing to have faith in my writing.

The very generous Ron Norris—retired

police officer with the LaVerne Police Department. Thank you, Ron, for being there for technical support on police procedures whenever I need you. Any errors in or liberties taken with the technical details Ron so patiently provides are all my doing.

And most importantly, thank you God for not turning Your back on me when I forget to look to You first and worry like the characters in this book.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

TEASER CHAPTER

ONE

Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

Kat Justice flipped the light switch again. Once. Twice. Three times. Click, click, click.

Nothing.

She held her breath and listened. No hum from the refrigerator on the other side of the wall, no bubbling of the aquarium. She couldn’t even hear the heater that should be running on this unusually cold Oregon day. Just silence, pulsing in the dark.

Someone had cut the power to Nancy’s house. Were they still here, hiding in the murky shadows? Should she continue going forward or back out of the house?

A fresh wave of concern sent a shiver down her back.

“Easy, Kat,” she whispered as she often had when she’d served on the Portland police force. But calming her nerves wasn’t so easy anymore. Not since she’d left the force to work as a private investigator in the family agency. Now she rarely faced danger.

But this new case was different. A man had followed her friend Nancy home. Nancy feared it had to do with her brother Nathan’s recent death. She believed he’d been murdered.

Kat had told Nancy to call 911, but the police weren’t here. Had Nancy been unable to make the call? After finding the house dark, Kat phoned 911 herself, but she couldn’t stand outside and wait for them to rescue Nancy. She had to protect her friend at all costs.

Gun in hand, she slowly set off, putting one foot in front of the other and hugging the dining room wall to make herself less of a target. Her heart thumped wildly as she felt her way to the kitchen doorway.

“Nancy?” she whispered.

No response. She took another step, sliding her foot along the floor. It thudded into something soft yet solid. She knelt down and felt along the floor. A leg. A jean-clad female leg.

Her breath hitched in her lungs as she moved toward the spicy scent of her friend’s signature perfume.

“Nancy?” she whispered again, fear ripping open her heart.

She located her friend’s neck and checked her pulse.

None.

For a moment she could only sit in horror. Nancy was dead. Her old college friend, the woman she’d just reconnected with after seven years, was gone. Kat had failed her.

No, God, no. Not this. Not Nancy.

A sound drifted through the darkness. The barest of sounds like a whisper. Kat held her breath and listened. Soft footfalls. One then another, moving on carpet in the next room. Step after slow step. Heading her way.

He’s still here.

Hands trembling, she jerked back against the wall.

Think, Kat. Think.

She couldn’t help Nancy now. She needed to retreat to safety and then apprehend the killer if she could do so safely.

She searched the shadows, straining her eyes. Darkness and more darkness, split only with a slice of light from the open doorway. She heard the sound again. Slow yet stealthy. He was closer now. She had to move. If she sat here, she’d die.

She stayed low, crossed the room and followed the wall retracing her steps toward the door. She glanced around the corner.

A hulking male stood in a shadow cast from a streetlight. Dressed all in black with a ski mask covering his face, he closed the door behind his back, plunging them into complete darkness.

“So glad you could join our little party.” His voice was low and gravelly, yet oddly excited.

Her mouth went dry, and her throat tightened, cutting off her air. She had to get out of there.

The back door.

She rose and backed away, tripping over Nancy. Her arms flailed in the air, searching for anything to break her fall. Her fingernails scratched down a wall, but she couldn’t grab hold. She landed with an oomph next to her friend. Her gun slipped out of her hand and skittered across the wood floor.

She turned over. The moon broke free of heavy cloud cover. Silvery light filtered through the window making her assailant look otherworldly. Large, muscular, he took slow measured steps as if he had all the time in the world.

Father, please. Don’t let me die. The prayer filled her mind, but panic dragged it away in a flash.

Rolling over, she scrambled toward the kitchen.

His heavy footsteps followed, faster now. Clunk, clunk, clunk. Swift and sure. She felt him near her. Heard him breathing, raspy and harsh.

She risked a peek behind. He was close, standing over her. She gave one more lunge into the kitchen, the back door only a few feet away now. She clasped the cool doorknob, but a hand shot out and grabbed her by the ponytail, jerking her head back and dragging her toward Nancy.

“No!” she yelled and kicked, hair ripping from her head.

He slammed a knee in her back, forcing her facedown onto the ice-cold tile. Air rushed from her lungs and she struggled to gain a breath as he caught both of her hands behind her back.

“No,” she wheezed out and freed a hand. She grabbed for anything she could touch, connecting with latex gloves, then reaching higher and clawing with her fingernails. Digging deep and hard.

He swore and yanked her hand away, wrenching her arm and pinning it next to the other one. She bucked, but he was too strong. He bound her wrists. The slash of thick tape pulling from a roll the only sound besides the thudding of her heart echoing in her ears.

Please, God! Please don’t let this happen!

Hard fingers dug into her arms as he flipped her to her side then straddled her hips, holding her in place with iron muscles. “You’ll pay for that scratch, Kat.”

How did he know her name?

“Do I know you?” she asked, though she was certain she’d never heard his voice before.

“Nancy told me all about you and your little part in this. So glad I can clean up all of her messes in one night.”

He thought she’d discovered something about Nathan’s death, and he was going to kill her before she could act on it.

“I don’t know anything,” she said, filling her tone with as much conviction as she could, but it came out breathless and wispy.

“You think I believe that?”

“It’s the truth.”

He bent low. Got in her face and laughed. Rumbling. Horrible. Sadistic. His breath was stale with cigarette smoke and mixed with cloying aftershave. For some reason, that made it all abruptly real, and she realized she was about to die.

Terror took hold. Terror beyond her wildest imagination. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest.

“No.” She bucked harder, upsetting him for a moment.

He had to grab the wall to steady himself. “Just like your friend. Fighting when you have no chance.”

He drew back and sent his fist barreling into her face. She felt her nose give. Blood poured freely down her cheek and into her mouth, tasting metallic and thick. He laughed as he wedged a small flashlight under his arm then pulled an elastic cord from his jacket.

“Nancy had no business talking with a private investigator. Your death is on her hands, not mine.” He aimed the light at her arm and secured the cord just above her elbow.

He pulled something else from his pocket and held it up. The beam from his flashlight shone through it.

A syringe!

A sob rose in her throat, wild and desperate.

“This is more fun that I thought it’d be,” he said, thumping the vein at the bend of her elbow. “Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing. You’ll just slip off to Never Never Land.”

She looked up at his blistering, angry eyes, and prayed. Prayed for Nancy, dear sweet Nancy, but mostly, mostly she prayed he wouldn’t succeed in killing her, too.

* * *

Detective Mitch Elliot searched the hazy street of the older Portland neighborhood for the correct address. This was not what he wanted to do tonight. Not after a day of dead ends in his latest homicide investigation. He should be home tossing a thick steak on his new gas grill. He could already taste the tenderness of the aged beef that he’d enjoy while listening to cheers of the Trailblazers game. A perfect way to improve a hideous day.

Yet here he was. Chasing down Kat Justice’s wild voice mail.

She didn’t even want him here. She’d called his partner, Tommy. But Tommy had an appointment and they were expecting a call on a case. So he’d forwarded his phone to Mitch. Now he had no way to reach Tommy and it was up to him to check out Kat’s claim that her friend was in danger.

He located the house and killed his lights. No sense in alerting anyone to his presence. He pulled to the curb several houses down and got out to assess the situation. An SUV sat in the driveway. Kat’s? Maybe. Or it could belong to the homeowner. Kat had said the front door was open when she’d arrived, but now it was closed and the house was dark. It had taken him ten minutes to get here so maybe she’d already come and gone.

Easing closer, he listened. Nothing but crickets chirping from the postage stamp of a yard. He couldn’t go rogue and bust in. He wasn’t a private investigator working for the family agency like Kat, but a sworn officer with protocols to follow.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled to Kat’s number. Dialing, he listened at a window. The phone chimed from inside the house.

She was here. It kept ringing.

C’mon, Kat. Pick up.

No answer. Rolling to voice mail. He dialed again. Same response.

Shoot. This was not how he’d planned to spend his night off. He lifted his gun and turned the doorknob. Unlocked. Not good.

“Help!” He heard a woman’s voice. Maybe Kat’s but it was so high and desperate he wasn’t sure. It was enough, though. A cry of distress gave him the right to enter.

He burst inside. “Police.”

The sound of a scuffle to the left took him in that direction. Gun outstretched with flashlight underneath, he turned the corner and directed the beam ahead. A masked man bolted out of the room. Kat shifted on the floor, her arms bound behind her back. Her nose was swollen and bleeding and a woman’s lifeless body lay nearby.

Mitch wanted to rush ahead and check her out, but he stayed in defensive mode and eased slowly forward, noting a syringe on the floor. “Are you okay, Kat?”

“I’m fine,” she said between deep breaths. “Go after him.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. He killed Nancy. Don’t let him get away with it. Go!”

He didn’t wait for more encouragement but leaped over both of them and charged out the back door. Adrenaline flowing, he cautiously moved to the corner of the house and saw the killer jumping into an older model van. Revving the powerful engine, he raced away.

As Mitch ran for his car, he caught a glimpse of the license plate too coated in mud to identify. Still, he noted it was a white, full-size van with a large black circle painted on the hood with red printing. Some sort of logo, but the rain and fog obscured a clear view of the words.

Hitting his lights and siren, he squealed onto the road. He radioed in his pursuit, reported the murder, then turned his full attention to avoiding an accident. They flew down tree-lined streets, houses blurring by until they careened onto a main thoroughfare, narrowly avoiding a collision. Soon the wail of other sirens on the way to help mixed with his. Good. The more officers coming to the party the less likely their suspect would get away.

They headed toward a train crossing with red lights already flashing and a thick wooden gate lowering.

“Gotcha,” Mitch said as he mentally prepared to apprehend the killer.

But the van sped up and crashed through the gate, sending debris flying. He whooshed across the track inches ahead of a train.

Mitch slammed on his brakes, his car fishtailing to a stop seconds before the rumbling train thundered across the tracks. Slamming his fist on the wheel, he radioed the killer’s location. He was out of the chase now. When the train cleared, the killer would be long gone. Mitch could only hope one of the officers on the other side of the tracks would catch him.

Adrenaline ebbing, he backed up and retraced his route to the house at a more sedate speed. No need to race back and risk an accident. He’d been gone long enough for paramedics and patrol officers to have freed Kat from the restraints and tended to her injuries. Now he’d have to take her statement.

If she was willing to talk to him—and that was a big if.

Seven years had passed since she’d declared her rookie crush on him. Though he’d tried to let her down easy by telling her about his policy not to date coworkers, she hadn’t taken the rejection well. Well, hah! She’d taken it badly. Very badly. They’d been able to work in the same department, but man, it was tense every time they’d run into each other before she left the force.

Not knowing what to expect from her, he turned onto the street and spotted Tommy’s car parked near two cruisers and an ambulance, their lights swirling into the fog. Good, this was better than Mitch had hoped. Tommy would take Kat’s statement while Mitch worked the other aspects of the investigation.

Tommy jogged down the front steps as Mitch parked.

“Glad to see you’re here already,” he said, climbing from his car. “How’d you hear about it?”

“I’d barely gotten out of my appointment and stopped my phone from forwarding when a uniform called to tell me what had happened.” Tommy looked at Mitch’s empty backseat. “I see you didn’t apprehend the suspect.”

“A train got in my way, but uniforms are still in pursuit.”

Tommy mumbled something under his breath and tipped his head at Kat who sat on the front porch with a medic ministering to her. “Kat’s friend didn’t make it, and she’s really freaked out.”

“Any idea what’s going on here?”

“It has to do with a case she’s working on, but I couldn’t get the details out of her.”

Odd. Tommy could make even the most noncompliant suspect confess, so why couldn’t he get the woman who’d sat next to him in a patrol car for five years to tell him what was happening? Maybe Kat had completely collapsed—although that would be another oddity, as she was one of the strongest women he’d ever met.

“She too upset to talk?”

“Nah, it’s me. I kinda blew up at her.” No surprise, there. Tommy’s Irish temper often got in the way. “When I saw what the creep did to her, I lectured her about going in without backup.”

“You didn’t.”

“I know. I know.” He held up his hands. “We both would’ve done the same thing, and I had no business yelling at her.” They were taught to protect life at all costs and sometimes that meant risking your own. “But man, he could’ve killed her. And I—” He shrugged.

“You lost it.”

“Yeah, and now she’s upset with me on top of everything else. So can you talk to her? You know, help her deal?”

Not at all what Mitch expected him to say, not with his history with Kat.

“Can’t you call her family to help?”

“Trust me. The last thing Kat would want is for me to call them. She’s too independent for that.”

Mitch knew Tommy was right, but that still didn’t make Mitch the best one to help. “You know I’m not the right choice for this.”

Tommy raised a brow. “What? You talking about the way you brushed her off? That was a long time ago. I’m not sure she even remembers it.”

Mitch wasn’t as certain. When the medic headed for her rig, he looked at Kat, hoping to judge her mood.

Sitting with her legs pulled up tight in the circle of her arms and her head resting on her knees, she met his gaze. Anguish flowed from her expressive eyes. Her nose had stopped bleeding but was already swelling. Probably broken.

“Look at her, man,” Tommy said as she lifted an ice pack to her face. “How can you say no?”

She shivered and stared into the night, her eyes vacant and full of pain. Mitch hadn’t seen her for two years, maybe longer. Not since her adoptive parents’ funeral. They were murdered in a robbery gone wrong. Her adoptive father was a former police officer so all the rank and file had shown up to pay their respects.

He’d watched her that day, unable to take his eyes off her as she stood in her dress blues for the very last time in her career. Perfect posture keeping her back stiff, shoulders high, arms at her side. Looking strong and in control. Until he caught sight of the raw pain in her eyes and his heart turned over and broke for her.

But now? Now he didn’t know what he was feeling and that scared him more than he’d like to admit. But he just couldn’t walk away.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” he said. “But I’m not to blame if it upsets her even more.”

“Just handle her with kid gloves and you’ll be fine.”

Mitch headed for the house. Kid gloves, right. How was he supposed to do that when each step gave him a better look at how this creep had beaten her up, making him madder than he’d been in years?

He fisted his hand. He had to keep things professional. Do his job. Encourage her to recount her horrifying experience. Then help her deal and do everything within his power to catch the killer before he came back to finish the job.

TWO

Kat couldn’t get her heart rate to slow, and the thunderous look on Mitch Elliot’s face as he strode up the walk didn’t do anything to help. She should look away from the man who’d once rejected her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Over six feet, and dark, he looked dangerous coming out of the mist. Not dangerous like the suspect, but dangerous like a man who refused to be ignored. He always managed to get to her in a way that tested her decision to steer clear of relationships.

The wind gusted, ballooning out his jacket and blowing tiny needles of rain in her face. She shivered, a tremor starting at her neck and working down her body.

Mitch stopped in front of her and, without a word, he shrugged out of his windbreaker and handed it to her. As the jacket dangled from his finger, she thought to refuse it, but another shiver had her sliding her arms into the sleeves and feeling the gray flannel lining laced with his musky scent resting soft against her neck.

He took a deep breath and squatted in front of her. Closer than she’d like, he didn’t make eye contact. Instead, he stared beyond her—maybe at the door or at the officer standing watch. He needed a shave and in this hazy light, he looked more like a bad boy than a homicide detective.

“You give anyone your statement?” he finally asked, still not looking at her.

“Not formally.” She looked at her hands, remembering how she’d clawed the killer. “I scratched the suspect and the tech scraped my nails for evidence, but otherwise Tommy’s kept me out here.”

Despite the warmth of his jacket and the scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric, she shuddered again, and that seemed to bring his assessing, steel-blue eyes her way. “You’re in shock, Kat.”

“Huh?”

“Shock. That’s why you’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. I just need a moment.” Intending to talk with Tommy—maybe escape the piercing eyes that seemed to cut to her core—she rose. Her vision blurred on the edges, and she swayed.

Mitch shot up and clamped his hand around her elbow. “Easy, Kat.”

She shook it off and used the column for support, but waves of dizziness continued to assault her. She never fainted. Never. Not at gory accident scenes. Not at homicides. So why now? Why here in front of all these law enforcement professionals?

She didn’t want to seem like a rookie, falling down at the sight of a body, so she sat down, before dropping into Mitch’s arms embarrassed her more. She lowered her head between her knees and gulped air.

She felt him sit next to her, the warmth of his leg settling into her chilled skin. He took a deep breath before exhaling loudly, and she wanted to turn to him and let him hold her. To make this all go away for just a moment in the circle of his arms. But she wouldn’t turn to the man she’d once had a huge crush on.

A rookie crush like all the female recruits wanting him for their training officer.

Never happened. Not for her or for the other women. The captain must have seen them all swooning over those amazing blue eyes and only assigned male recruits to Mitch.

Her crush ended, but not before she’d let him know of her interest, and he’d firmly rejected her. Now here he was, sitting next to her, and she needed to start acting like the professional she was and not some woman he cast aside—or worse, a victim.

Father, I know what I’m going through is nothing compared to the loss of Nancy, but please help me get through this. Help me stay strong, do what I’m trained to do and find her killer.

She lifted her head and waited for the world to right itself.

“Better?” He watched her with his trademark stare. One eye narrowed, his mouth lifting a bit on the same side, the other eye dark and deadly intense.

She nodded.

“Good. How about telling me what happened?” He pulled a small notebook from his pocket, his gaze saying this was all business for him.

All business...and the fact that it bothered her made her even more upset. “Nancy called me. She’s an old friend from college and a client of our agency.”

“And Nancy’s the deceased?”

She flinched at the clinical terminology. “Yes. Nancy Bodig.”

He jotted her name on his pad. “Go on.”

“Her twin brother, Nathan, died two months ago when his car plunged into a ravine. It was deemed an accident, and she didn’t question the ruling until last week.”

“What made her change her mind?”

“She kept Nathan’s cell phone active so she could call his voice mail. You know, just to hear his voice every now and then. But the last time she called, a man answered.”

Mitch’s eyebrow rose. “And she thinks this means his death wasn’t accidental?”

“Sort of,” Kat answered, knowing how lame it sounded. “He never went anywhere without his phone but the investigating officers didn’t find it at the accident scene.”

“That doesn’t mean he was murdered. The phone could’ve been stolen or misplaced. Even lost in the crash area. Then someone found it and decided to use it.” He sounded so detached—professional like a cop should be.

Now she knew how it felt to be on the other side. To be a victim. All she wanted to do was mourn the loss of a friend. Instead, she had to recount how she’d failed Nancy. It was almost too hard to go on. But if she didn’t, this killer would never be caught.

She took a deep breath. “The state police said the same thing when Nancy approached them. I even told her that when she first came to see me.”

“But?” He waited, pen poised over his notebook.

“But then she told me she checked his online phone records. There were no outgoing calls and there was only that one incoming call after his death. Since then, I’ve monitored the account. Nothing.”

“Maybe the phone company made some sort of mistake routing that call.”

“I checked into that, too. Trust me, I checked everything I could about that phone. It all points to someone possessing Nathan’s phone. But not for regular use. So why keep it? Why answer only on that one day?”

“Good questions, I suppose.”

“That’s why I took her case and agreed to find out who had it.” She shook her head. The truth of her failure was about to come to light, and she waited until she’d stemmed off another round of tears. “I didn’t think she was right about the murder, but after tonight—” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t finish her thought, but simply stared down at the mossy sidewalk in front of her. The sidewalk she’d run up not an hour ago and found Nancy’s lifeless body.

She felt as if she might lose it. Really lose it like she did the night her birth father killed her mother right in front of her. She was only eleven. A child. Watching the man who’d beat her mother time after time, finally going too far. Her mother, after years of letting a man control her every move, lying there. Lifeless.

The pain swamped her as another wave of grief rose up over her adopted parents who were gunned down in a robbery just a few years ago. Another senseless loss and a reminder of all the horrible things that had happened in her life before they’d rescued her.

“You’re certain tonight is related to the brother’s death?” Mitch asked, his gentle tone pulling her head back up. His eyes were soft and warm. He understood the pain of what he was asking her to do and he was urging her to go on.

She let his warmth chase away the horrible sights and smells of violence and focused straight ahead. “The killer said Nancy shouldn’t have involved a private investigator in this and that it was her fault he had to kill me. He knew my name and it sounded almost like he had Nancy lure me here to kill me, too.”

“Back up.” His voice turned sharp. “You didn’t say anything about luring you.”

“Like I said in my message, Nancy called and said a guy followed her home. She thought it had to do with Nathan’s death. When I got here, she was already dead and the creep was waiting for me. He told me it was good that he could clean up both of Nancy’s messes at one time.”

He winced as if the memory of finding her didn’t sit well with him. “So you think our suspect forced her to call you so you’d come over?”

“Maybe... It sounds farfetched when you say it, but after what happened here, I honestly don’t know.” She drew in a deep breath before going on. “Also Nancy was supposed to call 911. So why didn’t she?”

“Maybe he overpowered her before she could dial.”

“Or she didn’t make the call because he was standing next to her forcing her to call me.”

“At this stage in the investigation, anything’s possible,” he answered just like a good cop would. They were taught to look beyond the obvious. Not form an opinion early on or it might cloud their judgment. And never, never rush to a conclusion.

“So how about the suspect?” he asked. “I got a good look at his build and saw he wore a mask. Is there anything you can add to help ID him?”

She thought about it. About him. About anything that could help, but even though it seemed to go on forever as he’d held her on the floor his angry eyes seething at her, now it flashed by in a blurred memory, and she couldn’t come up with much.

“Nothing, other than he was strong,” she said. “Crazy strong. He tried to inject me, and it took everything I had to fight him off until you got here.” She looked at her wrists, red and irritated from the tape, and could still feel the creep binding her hands and pressing her face into the cold floor. “He thinks I know something about Nathan’s death. Except I don’t have a clue why Nathan or Nancy were killed.” She forced nonchalance into her tone that she didn’t feel even as a swift shiver confirmed her fear.

Mitch leaned over and tugged the jacket closed but didn’t let go and looked deep into her eyes. “We need to get you out of here.”

“I want to stay to make sure Nancy’s treated right.” She took a deep breath and forced away more tears.

“We’re all professionals here, Kat. She’ll be handled with dignity.” He let go of the jacket and stood, offering a hand on the way up.

He was right. Nancy didn’t need her now. She’d needed her earlier. Before a man murdered her and Kat failed her.

She took Mitch’s hand and swayed again. He put his other hand under her elbow. She wanted to shake it off and be strong—be like the police officer she used to be where nothing made her feel so lost and dead inside. But she couldn’t find the resolve to do so and wasn’t sure she ever would again.

* * *

Mitch pushed open the front door to Kat’s town house and stood back to let her enter. She slipped past him, went to the kitchen adjoining a two-story family room with soaring windows and dropped her keys on the laminate counter.

He shouldn’t be here. Not in her home with her personal things all around, making him think of her as a person and not a victim in one of his cases. His first instinct had been to have a patrol officer take her home, but he’d told Tommy he’d try to help her cope. Plus he wanted to check out her house to make sure their suspect hadn’t decided to come here to finish what he’d started.

And maybe, if he stopped to admit it, something in his gut said she needed him. Not some unknown officer, but him. Mitch Elliot.

He hadn’t felt needed in years. Avoided it, actually, ever since his partner, Lori, was gunned down in front of him. Sure, he took a bullet himself that day, but he’d lived. She hadn’t.

He felt the scar on his neck, the raised reminder of how fast someone he loved could be taken from him and why he was better off going it alone in life. No matter how good it felt to discover he could connect again with a woman like Kat, he’d never risk another loss.

She turned and big, haunted eyes stared at him. His gut squeezed like a vise, but his fingers still resting on the scar kept his mind on business.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” she said. “And I haven’t thanked you for your help at Nancy’s house. If you hadn’t come along—” Another violent shudder wracked her body.

“You’re welcome.” He felt as if he should say more but opted not to dwell on what could’ve been.

He closed the door and took in the apartment’s white walls and dull beige carpet. Moving boxes lined the far wall and minimal furniture filled the small living space. Fire had destroyed her house last year when a drug dealer tried to burn out the woman she was protecting. This place was so not Kat. Her walls would radiate color. Bright, bold color.

“So when will your house be done?” he asked, wiping his feet on the small mat by the door.

“How do you know about my house?” She bit her lip, but her gaze never waivered.

“Tommy’s my partner, remember?”

“Right.” She frowned and tugged the jacket tighter.

But a tug of a jacket wouldn’t keep him out of her business. Partners shared a lot—were like old married couples in so many ways—and he knew all about Kat’s life. More than she’d likely want the man who’d once rejected her to know.

The sooner he did his check and got out of there, the better for both of them. “I’ll do a quick walk-through of the house then take off so you can rest.”

“You think he came here?” Her voice rose in alarm.

“Nah,” he said, to calm the renewed fear sparking in her eyes. “But it’d be a good idea to make sure. You stay here.”

He didn’t wait for her agreement but went down the hall. He checked each room, each window, to be sure the locks were secured and the blinds closed. As he headed back to the family room, his cell rang, making him jump.

“What’s up, Tommy?” he answered, passing by the kitchen and seeing Kat making coffee.

“Suspect got away.”

Mitch huffed out a disgusted breath and started up the stairs. “What happened?”

“Does it really matter? He’s gone.”

“Then it’s up to us to bring him in.” Mitch tried to sound optimistic but until he knew if the scene provided any strong leads, he couldn’t really be so sure they’d catch him.

“You get Kat home all right?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at her one more time before making the turn on the landing.

“She doing okay?”

“Not really. I’m clearing the house right now, but when I finish, I’ll insist she call someone to spend the night with her. Maybe her sister or one of her brothers.”

Thanks to Tommy’s nonstop chatter, Mitch knew all about the Justice family. Kat had three brothers and one sister. All of them were adopted. And all of them were former law enforcement officers who gave up their careers to find their adoptive parents’ killer. Now they continued to work together in a private investigation agency. No one better to care for her than her siblings.

Keep telling yourself that and maybe you can go home without a backward glance.

“Kat will never go for it,” Tommy said.

“I thought you said they were all tight.”

“They are, but if this guy is really trying to kill Kat, she won’t want them mixed up in this.”

“I don’t follow.” He checked a bedroom with a small bed and more boxes piled to the ceiling.

“She’s a worrier. She’s seen too many people she loves die and lets it get to her. So if there’s any chance they’ll get hurt, she’ll keep them out of it. She doesn’t even date. As she says, why find someone just to lose them.”

Mitch understood that. How he understood it. Losing his parents and Lori, plus his sister Angie’s plunge into the black hole of drugs, guaranteed that. Still, it didn’t fit the woman he thought he knew. “I never figured her for a worrier.”

Tommy laughed. “She puts on a tough front, but when it comes to people she loves, she’s a bowl of jelly.”

“Good to know. Still, I’ll have to insist she call them.” He went on to the next bedroom. This one was obviously Kat’s—neat, orderly and box free.

“Of course you will. Just wanted you to be prepared when she balks at it.”

Mitch opened the closet door. “You about done at the scene?”

“Yeah. I’m heading back to the office to get a jump start on this if you want to come in.” Not a request. More of a plea to help find the person who’d manhandled and almost killed his former partner.

“Want me to bring a pizza?”

“Yeah, man. That’d be good.”

“I’m putting mushrooms on it, so deal.” As he disconnected, he heard Tommy laugh over their longstanding debate about where fungus belonged. According to Tommy, it wasn’t on a pizza.

Mitch cleared the small bathroom, checking behind the shower curtain, then went to the stairs where the nutty aroma of fresh coffee drifted up.

Kat was standing at the bottom. She still wore his jacket and held a steaming mug. “I made coffee. You want a cup?”

Not really, but with the way she looked up at him all wounded and sad as if she needed him, he couldn’t say no. “Sure.”

She went to the kitchen, and he considered how he was going to convince her to let a family member spend the night. She had a reputation for being stubborn and headstrong. Not something he had much experience in dealing with when it came to women.

“I’m assuming we’re clear,” she said, joining him with a second cup.

“Yes.” He took the mug and put some distance between them. He waited for her to say she could’ve done that herself, but she just gave a sad, halfhearted nod. Not a good sign.

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight, Kat.” He took a sip of coffee and nearly groaned at the strong, freshly ground taste he loved.

“I’m fine.” Her shoulders went up a notch.

He regarded her for a moment and she held her rigid posture under his scrutiny. She was trying so hard to keep it together, but he saw the crack in her strong veneer ready to crumble with the least little blow. “I’m not sure you’re a good judge of how you’re doing right now.”

She raised a brow as if daring him to protest. “I appreciate your concern, really I do, but there’s no need to bother anyone else.” She gave him a tough-as-nails look, then walked into the family room almost aimlessly as if she had no idea what to do with herself. She paused staring ahead. Then, as if reaching a decision, she put her mug on a table and dropped onto the sofa.

He followed and decided to take a firmer stance as he sat next to her. “I’m going to call one of your brothers or your sister.”

“No! It’s late and they don’t need to get involved in this mess.”

“Truth time, Kat. What’s going on here?” he asked, expecting her to reinforce Tommy’s take on things, but hoping if she did, he’d find a hole in her logic.

“It’s nothing, it’s just—” She looked down and started frantically rubbing her wrists where the skin was angry and raw. “This is the first case I’ve headed up at the agency. Ethan and Cole have pretty much been in charge. Makes sense, I guess. They’re the oldest and have the most experience. But still, I begged for a case. Told them I was ready. Now I screwed up and...” Her voice faded away.

Not the answer Tommy had prepared him for. “And you don’t want them to know about it.”

“Yeah.” She kept picking at her wrist.

His mind flashed back to the moment he found her. Bound and helpless, a terrified glaze to her eyes. These very wrists strapped behind her. She seemed now as if she could hardly bear the memory. He took her hands, stopping her from damaging the skin even more. He held her icy fingers as he waited for her to look up at him. When she did, he smiled to help ease her anxiety, but she stared at him looking lost so he plunged ahead. “Your family will hear about this on the news by morning. Maybe you should tell them before that happens.”

“I just can’t handle facing them tonight. Tomorrow, but not tonight.”

He could feel the tension radiating off her. He wanted to do more than hold her hands—maybe give her a hug—but this wave of uncertainty would be gone by morning. Her feisty personality would return, and she wouldn’t remember the hug too fondly.

“I still don’t like the idea of you staying alone. Not with a killer on the loose.”

Fierce independence replaced the uncertainty in her eyes, and she jerked her hands free. “I was a cop, Mitch. I know how to protect myself.”

“I know you do, but you’re upset and not thinking straight.”

“You’re right. I’m upset. Of course, I’m upset. I lay right next to my friend’s body. But don’t think that means I’m falling apart. I’m thinking clearly, and I’ll be fine on my own.” Her shoulders jerked higher.

He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her. He had no choice but to back off. But he wouldn’t leave her unprotected. He’d arrange for an officer to sit outside all night.

“You’re tired. I should be going.” He started to rise.

“Wait.” She grabbed his arm stopping him. “We haven’t talked about the investigation.”

“What about it?”

“I want to be part of it.”

He should’ve known this was coming and prepared a way to say no without hurting her more. “You know I can’t do that. You’re a civilian now and the closest thing we have to a witness.”

“No one needs to know I’m helping.”

He opened his mouth to object but she jumped on it.

“You know Tommy will agree.” She crossed her arms as if she felt it necessary to defend herself from his questioning gaze. She didn’t, though.

He was the one who needed defending from these eyes imploring him to give in. Spending time with the one woman who’d gotten beyond his defenses and made him almost agree to date a coworker wasn’t a wise move.

“I can’t let you help, Kat, without jeopardizing my job.”

“What if you were me?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “What would you want?”

“Wouldn’t matter what I wanted, it’s what I’d make sure happened.”

“Exactly. You’d make sure you were included in the investigation. I’m just trying to do the same thing.” She put a hand on his arm and the warmth of her touch melted his resolve.

Having her by his side would be a good thing, right? If she wouldn’t let her family surround and protect her from this killer, if she worked with him, he’d be able to keep an eye on her.

“Please,” she said softly, and her big brown eyes pleaded with him.

Eyes he’d once looked into where he’d found the same longing he’d felt in his own heart before hurting her. He couldn’t do it again. He’d let her work on the case, but he’d lay down some ground rules. “You don’t call any of the shots. You’re just an observer. You got it?”

“I got it.” She squeezed his arm and smiled. “Thanks.”

He nodded, keeping his look neutral even though he liked the warmth of her hand on his arm.

“So where should we begin?” she asked.

Her sudden enthusiasm made him smile. “It’s late. We’ll start first thing in the morning.”

“No!” The word shot out like a bullet. “If I bring you up to speed on what I know about Nathan, we can hit the ground running in the morning.”

Staying for a few more minutes wouldn’t be a problem, right? “Tell me what you’ve done so far.”

“I started by investigating Nathan Bodig. Everything about the man checks out. He was an all-around good guy, and I couldn’t find any obvious reason why someone would want to kill him.”

“What’d he do for a living?” Mitch picked up his cup and took a long sip.

“Social worker for the Oregon Department of Human Services. He worked with kids at risk. Monitoring them at home and placing them in foster homes.”

“So he dealt with troubled families and might’ve made someone mad. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in a position like his was threatened.”

She nodded. “I was going to talk to his coworkers, but I hadn’t gotten that far yet. With your credentials we’ll have better access to them.”

She so desperately wanted to find Nancy’s killer that she was rushing ahead. As they worked the case, he’d need to keep an eye out for that and make sure they stayed on solid footing. “I’d like to hold off on that until we have evidence that proves the crash wasn’t an accident.”

“You doubt it?”

“Nancy’s death could have nothing to do with her brother’s, and I don’t want to jump to conclusions.” She appeared to get upset with his reluctance to embrace her theory so he moved on before she argued. “Where exactly did the accident occur?”

“On Highway 30 near Clatskanie. Nathan was dating a woman he met at a conference. She lives in Astoria and he was on the way to visit her.”

“And you checked her out, too?”

“She’s as squeaky clean as Nathan. She was the one who reported Nathan missing. When he didn’t show up as scheduled, she tried calling him. After a few tries with no answer, she contacted Nancy. Nancy set out, planning to retrace his route, but by that time, a trucker had spotted the car burning in the ravine and called it in.”

Good. At least Kat hadn’t let her emotions keep her from following strong investigative techniques. If Nathan really had been murdered, then the girlfriend would be a prime suspect and someone they’d need to scrutinize. He was glad Kat had already gotten the basic story—it was a place to start. “You talk with the officer who investigated the accident?”

“That would be Senior Trooper Ed Franklin. I tried to talk with him, but he shut me down.” She crossed her arms. “He said I was no longer a police officer and I’d have to go through proper channels for my information.”

“He was just following protocol, Kat.”

“You and I both know he could’ve helped me if he wanted to.” She ended with an adorable little pout that kicked up his pulse, and he knew it was time for him to get out of there before he did something he’d regret.

“Well, he won’t have a choice with me.” He stood and headed for the door before she tried to stop him again. “We’ll start with him first thing tomorrow.”

She rushed ahead as if she thought he was going to change his mind about including her in the investigation and wanted him to leave before he said anything to that effect. Now that her pleading expression had disappeared and he could think straight, he wanted to do just that.

She shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to him with a sweet smile.

The softness took him by surprise. She’d always been so tough. So independent. Not needing anyone. The very reasons he’d been attracted to her. But this vulnerable side of her tugged at something in him that he’d only felt for his family and Lori. He wanted to protect Kat. To take care of her. But that wasn’t the end of his interest and the rest wasn’t at all familial.

He took the jacket and stepped outside. “Tommy and I’ll pick you up at nine. Make sure you lock the door.”

He heard her snort as he walked away and a smile found his lips. She was starting to get a bit of her spunk back. Good. With a killer running free, she’d need every bit of her determination and then some to stay alive.

THREE

Morning sun filtered through the blinds as Kat laid her Bible on the table and got up to see if Mitch and Tommy had arrived yet. Her usual morning devotions reminded her to let go of her fear. God was here, by her side. Walking before her, beside her. He would take care of her.

Just not those you love, huh, Kat? The thought came from deep inside, and she squelched it. She trusted God. She just wanted to help Him to make sure things didn’t go wrong.

She scissored opened the blinds and saw the same squad car she’d spotted when she’d peeked outside around 3:00 a.m. after a noise woke her. Not a pleasant discovery. Tommy knew how she detested her birth father’s iron control, and she rarely tolerated people making decisions for her. So it had to have been Mitch. Still, she wouldn’t ask them to cancel the unit. Her siblings would be more likely to keep their distance if they thought provisions had been made for her safety.

She let the blinds fall and pressed her only sister’s speed dial number.

“Hello,” Dani answered on the fifth ring, sounding sleepy.

“Hey,” Kat said, trying to be cheerful though the loss of her friend weighed heavy on her heart. “I have something I need to tell you about.”

“Does it have to be this early in the morning?” Dani was so not a morning person.

“Sorry, but it does.” Kat launched into a description of the attack and Nancy’s death.

“Thanks for calling me last night.” Her sarcastic reply hurt, but Kat deserved it and more for shutting out her sister. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, and I’m sorry about last night. I couldn’t very well tell you about this and ask you not to tell the others. Then everyone would rush over here, and I couldn’t handle that.”

“So no one else knows?”

“No.”

“You should’ve called Cole first. You know how mad he’ll be when he finds out this happened and you spent the night alone.”

Cole was the last person Kat wanted to tell. With their oldest brother, Ethan, on a month-long honeymoon, the usually quiet Cole had taken charge and was very vocal of late.

“That’s why I need your help,” Kat said. “He’ll want to take me off this case and keep me under lock and key until the killer’s caught.”

“And you don’t think he should do that.”

“I have to work on this case, Dani. Nancy was my friend. Plus I screwed up and have to prove myself or I’ll never be in charge again.”

“I don’t know, sis.”

“C’mon, Dani.” She used her most persuasive tone. “With the way Ethan and Cole want us both to sit behind desks all the time, you of all people should back me up on this.” She and Dani had fought their brothers treating them like helpless females instead of trained law enforcement officials for two years now. Their brothers had only recently started letting them get more involved, but this situation would make them pull back.

“You have a point,” Dani said, although grudgingly.

Kat almost had her cooperation. “I’ve already gotten approval to work with the detectives in charge of the case so I’ll spend most of my time with them. They’ve also posted an officer outside my door for when I’m home. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea....”

“Please, Dani. I need to do this.”

She sighed. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes. I’m positive.”

“Fine. I’ll tell Cole about it when I get to work, and I’ll try to convince him to stay away. But don’t blame me if he comes after you.”

“Thanks, Dani. I owe you one.” The doorbell rang, and Kat jumped. “Tommy’s at the door. I gotta go.”

“Tommy. Wait. This means you’re working with Mitch Elliot, too. When were you planning on telling me about that?”

Never. “I’ll call you later.” Kat hung up before her sister, who knew all about Mitch’s rejection, had a chance to grill her.

She went to the door and found Mitch leaning on the wall, his legs crossed at the ankle. Her heart did a little free fall as she tipped her head back and ran her gaze up the strong column of his neck to meet his eyes. She was rewarded for the effort with a slow smile spreading across a rugged face with a hint of stubble to match his dark hair. He wore boot-cut jeans, a white dress shirt and tie covered with the same Portland Police Bureau windbreaker as last night. The memory of his scent as the jacket circled her in warmth still lingered in her mind and she had to take a deep breath to clear it out.

“Where’s Tommy?” she asked and stepped back as the ramifications of spending the day alone with him sunk in.

“He’s taking care of something, and he’ll meet us later.”

The only reason Mitch would be so vague on Tommy’s whereabouts was if they thought it would bother her, making it easy to guess his location. “So he’s at the morgue?”

“Yeah.”

She appreciated the two of them trying to spare her from the gruesome details, but she couldn’t let them continue to tiptoe around her. “You guys don’t need to treat me with kid gloves, Mitch.”

“Okay,” he said, and something that looked suspiciously like relief flared in his eyes for a brief moment.

She got it. He didn’t want to be burdened with her fragility brought on by grief. She’d have to make a point today of showing him she could do her job no matter her pain. And that started with making sure Nancy’s parents had been notified of her death.

“Has anyone located Nancy’s parents?” she asked.

“They’re meeting Tommy at the morgue right now.”

So they were at the viewing window for the second time in a few months identifying their child. Kat couldn’t imagine their pain. She offered a quick prayer for them before looking back at Mitch. “I didn’t know them, but I’d like to offer my condolences. I don’t suppose you’d break the rules and give me their contact information.”

“We can get it from Tommy when we meet up with him.” He sounded as sad as she felt. “Trooper Franklin’s expecting us so we should get going.”

“I just need to grab my stuff from upstairs and then I’m ready to go.” She nodded at the kitchen. “There’s fresh coffee. Help yourself.”

As she ran up the stairs, she heard his phone ringing. Maybe it was Tommy calling from the autopsy to give them a lead. At least she hoped so. The sooner they got a few strong leads the faster they’d solve the murder and bring closure to Nancy’s family.

She secured her gun in the holster and slipped it onto her belt then gathered her things and retraced her steps. On the landing, she paused and looked down at Mitch. She’d expected to find him in the kitchen getting coffee. Instead, he stood leaning on the fireplace mantel, one hand on his cell, one massaging the back of his neck as if his conversation was tense. She studied him. His broad shoulders and long lean body. His self-assured stance.

A man this attractive should have women flocking around him, but if rumors were true, he didn’t even date. Of course, she didn’t, either. But at thirty she had a few more years than he had to find a mate if she ever chose to do so. He was at least four years older, maybe five.

He turned, looking up at her. His gaze roved from her head to her toes and back up again. Her heart dipped, and she pressed her nails into her palms to keep from embarrassing herself by fawning over him.

She wouldn’t let him get to her again. The loss of her adoptive parents had made her look back on her life and take stock of all she’d been through. To remember all the horrible things that had happened so they couldn’t be repeated. And that meant not letting a man get close enough to control and hurt her as her mother had been hurt. Even a man like Mitch, who on the surface seemed like an upstanding kind of guy.

Just keep remembering that, Kat, and you’ll be fine.

She continued down the stairs and by the time she reached him, he was saying goodbye.

“Tommy,” he said, without making her pump him for information as she’d expected. “The drug in the syringe was propofol.”

Propofol. Very dangerous and deadly in the wrong hands. “The anesthesia drug used in surgeries,” she said, trying to keep the renewed fear out of her tone.

“If he’d injected you with the entire syringe, your breathing would’ve been severely compromised.”

“And I’d be dead,” she said in a whisper.

“Nancy’s tox screen was positive, as well,” he said quickly, as if wanting to move on.

Kat wished she could let go of her memories of that night as easily. It’d be a long time before she stopped seeing Nancy lying there next to her while the killer tried to end her life, too.

“The M.E. estimates Nancy had been dead less than an hour before he arrived on scene,” he continued.

“Not long after she called me,” Kat said and clenched her hands to fight back a fresh wave of sorrow. If only she’d gotten to Nancy sooner. Or taken her more seriously when she’d claimed Nathan had been murdered. Her friend could still be alive.

“Still, the killer could’ve gotten away if he’d wanted to leave.” Mitch paused for a long moment and made eye contact. “Sounds like your theory may be right. He knew you were coming and waited for you to arrive so he could kill you.”

“Then he’ll likely try again.” She stated the obvious and hated how it made her breathe faster to ward off her fear.

Mitch searched her face, his intriguing eyes softened as he moved closer. He took her chin between his fingers and turned her head, studying her like a bug under a microscope.

“Your nose may be broken. We’ll make time today to get it checked out.” He sounded so clinical, which was the farthest thing from what she was feeling.

“I’m fine.” She gazed up at him. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

With his other hand, he gently brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “You never said how this happened. Did you fall and hit the floor?”

“The killer punched me.”

He hissed out a breath and his thumb trailed down her cheek and under her chin, sending every nerve in her body into awareness. Even the scientific way he’d held her chin felt good. It was almost like a caress, wrapping her with warmth. Warmth she had no business feeling if she was going to keep Mitch at bay, much less stay alert and out of the path of a killer.

* * *

Mitch didn’t know what it was about Kat that got to him. Sure, she was cute, adorable even. A brown-eyed, curly-haired, five foot four bundle of adorable, but he’d resisted adorable in the past.

He was probably reacting to what had happened to her last night, but man, when she’d told him their suspect punched her, he’d seen red. Bright, vivid, bull-fighting red and he had to touch her. To connect with her on some level. So he’d used her injury as an excuse to reach out to her. Soon, he felt the anger melt and something else he didn’t want to think about replaced it. It had lingered ever since.

Even now after a sixty-minute drive on winding Oregon roads, he couldn’t get images of her being manhandled out of his head when he should be focusing on a case that wouldn’t solve itself.

Maybe things would be better once Tommy joined them. And maybe if they talked for the rest of the drive, his mind would stop wandering to places it had no business going.

“So do you ever miss being a cop?” he asked, trying to sound casually interested.

“Sometimes.” She faced the window as if trying to shut him down.

“But you like working with the agency?’

“Most of the time.”

Great. A real talker. “What don’t you like about it?”

“It can be difficult to work with family.”

With his parents dead and his only sibling wandering the streets of Portland, he couldn’t begin to understand that, but he knew her family was important to her.

“How so?” he asked and took a long sip of the rich coffee they’d poured into travel mugs before leaving her house.

She shrugged.

“C’mon, Kat. Would it hurt to talk to me?”

She swiveled and searched his face with big brown eyes. Sweet eyes. Eyes with no residual frustration but were just filled with questions. “Why do you want to be so buddy buddy all of a sudden?”

“You’ve been through something horrible, and I thought it might help to talk.”

She just looked at him, her expression unreadable.

“This isn’t about that crush you had on me, is it?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“Sorry for bringing it up, but there are a lot of female officers in the department who don’t exactly like to see me.”

She frowned at him, and he got the message. She didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him. Something he should expect coming from one of the women he’d rejected, but for some odd reason it was important that she understood.

“It’s a problem, Kat. A very real one.” He waited for a response but got none. “You try doing your job when half the force is hurt because you wouldn’t go out with them.”

She snorted.

“What?” he asked.

“Half the force?”

“Fine.” He grinned at her teasing tone. “I exaggerated.”

Her lips twitched in a smile. “In all seriousness, I heard other officers complaining about how hurt they were when you rejected them. I know it’s a problem for you.”

“I appreciate your understanding.”

“I can be sympathetic now, but make no mistake, I was mad at you. Or maybe I was more embarrassed that you shut me down in front of my coworkers. But all of that’s in the past.” Her smile faded. “It’s not important anymore. Nothing seems quite as important after losing Nancy that way.”

The opening he hoped for. “You want to talk about what happened?”

She shrugged.

“I’ve been there, Kat. Not the being attacked part, but I lost a partner once.”

Her eyes flew up to his, surprise brightening the color. “Really? I hadn’t heard about that.”

“It happened in Salem. Before I moved here.” He looked at her wondering if he should go on. If he did, he’d expose feelings he never shared. Raw feelings that he’d rather keep to himself, but he could help her. “It’s something you never get over. I’m still trying to let it go.”

She peered at him then, her eyes soft. Vulnerable. The emotions from last night were present and vivid on her face.

“Do you feel guilty?” she asked.

Her whisper-soft voice cut into him and once again, he was back there, with Lori the day she’d been shot, stuck in the scene that had replayed in his mind too many times to count. The bright sunshine. The deafening sound of a shotgun as the man bolted out of his house and opened fire. The sticky blood everywhere at once. A bullet slicing into his neck, spinning him to the ground where he was powerless to help Lori—not only his partner but the woman he’d just asked to marry him.

“You know,” Kat added, oblivious to his turmoil. “Guilty, as if you could’ve prevented it from happening?”

“It’s not as if we have any control over what happens.” He stopped, not trusting himself to say anything until he took a few deep breaths. “No matter what I do if God allows people I care about to be hurt, I can’t stop it.” His voice was heavy with sadness, and he saw the same thing on Kat’s face. “I wish I could go back to the days when I believed God heard my prayers.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but sat there as if gathering her thoughts. “It may be hard to see at times, Mitch, but God does listen, and He has a good plan for your life.”

He glanced at her again. “After all you’ve been through and seen on the job, you honestly believe that?”

“I may not like what He allows to happen, but I know He’s there.”

“It would be nice to feel that way. I just can’t,” he said with such finality that she looked away, and he was left with his thoughts again.

Thoughts of his sister, Angie. Every day, he expected to arrive at a homicide scene only to discover she was the victim. He tried not to think about it. Tried, but failed every time he caught a case. Every time he had to inform a victim’s family that their loved one would not be coming home. Every time he worked his leads and brought a killer to justice.

And even times like now, as he parked in front of the Oregon State Police office in St. Helens, he knew when he talked to the officer about Bodig’s death, a part of him could easily slip into questions about why God took Nathan Bodig. Questions that brought no answers.

He turned off the engine and as Kat started to get out, his mind moved to the upcoming meeting. “I’d appreciate it if you’d remember you’re just an observer here. Especially since Franklin’s already proved he plays by the rules.”

“I’ll try,” she said and slipped out of the car.

He followed her into the crisp morning air and paused by the office door to enjoy a rare sun break. As usual for February in Oregon, by the time they came back outside the sun would most likely have retreated behind gray clouds.

He opened the door for Kat and followed her inside where a young clerk escorted them through a bullpen area to a desk in the back. A stout, uniformed male came to his feet, his eyes roving over Kat, then Mitch, taking in details an officer of the law was trained to see.

“Senior Trooper Ed Franklin.” He thrust out a hand.

Mitch offered his business card while completing introductions.

“You didn’t mention Ms. Justice would be accompanying you.” His tone hinted at opposition.

Mitch eyed up the officer with a stare he’d perfected in suspect interrogations. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” he said, though Mitch heard the reluctance in the single word. He sat and gestured toward chairs by his cluttered desk. “So you came to talk about the Bodig fatality.”

Mitch waited for Kat to sit then took the other chair. “I’m interested in hearing how you determined this crash was an accident.”

“First off, a crash like Bodig’s isn’t unusual for that stretch of highway.” Franklin leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his neck. He seemed relaxed but Mitch could see he remained alert. “We’ve covered several fatal accidents in that location. Second, it was a rainy night with slick roads.”

“So you think visibility might’ve been a factor in the crash?” Mitch clarified.

“Could be.” He snapped forward and pulled out a map, pointing to a section of Highway 30. “This is where it happened. Deep ravines line both sides of the road here. It wouldn’t take much of a misstep to turn fatal.”

“Any possibility he was forced off the road?”

“There were no skid marks at the scene. So that would be highly unlikely. But without an eye witness, I can’t be one hundred percent positive.”

“No skid marks?” Kat asked, clearly surprised.

“None.”

Interesting. A lack of skid marks would mean Nathan didn’t apply his brakes to keep from going off the road. But that wasn’t conclusive. His brakes could’ve been cut, or Bodig could have been impaired. Maybe by alcohol or drugs or he fell asleep. “What about Bodig? Did you check him out?”

“We ran down the usual profile. Blood alcohol, tox screen, D.M.V. record. All clean. He made the trip every weekend to visit his fiancée in Astoria. From what she and his sister both said, he’d been burning the candle at both ends. My best guess is that he fell asleep at the wheel.”

“And no unusual findings on the vehicle?”

“Unusual? No. But it was seriously charred.” He shook his head. “Don’t know how long it burned before the fire department arrived on scene. A trucker spotted the wreck and called it in.”

“Do you know what happened to the vehicle after it was released?” Mitch asked, hoping they could get a look at it.

Franklin opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. He circled something in the middle of the page and slid it across the desk. “This is the tow company we recommend to next of kin. Henry down there is good about helping them dispose of vehicles. You can check with them.”

“Thanks,” Mitch said. “One more thing. Bodig’s cell phone. It was never recovered.”

“His sister said that was odd so we spent extra time looking for it.” He reclined again. “With all the windows shattered in the car, his phone could’ve been ejected and landed anywhere. The brush is too thick to search every inch.”

“But it definitely wasn’t in the car,” Kat added.

He nodded and looked at Mitch. “You mind telling me what this’s all about?”

“We think this may not have been an accident.”

“Suppose you tell me what you’re basing that on.” This time he didn’t mask his defensive tone.

“Relax. It has nothing to do with your investigation. His sister was murdered after she started looking into the accident.”

“Murdered.” Franklin’s feet came to the floor with a loud thud. “Why didn’t you tell me that right up front?”

“I needed to know your mind-set at the time of the investigation. Telling you could’ve changed your perception of things.”

“You think?” He kept shaking his head. “Now I’m wondering if I missed something. How’d the sister die?”

“Injected with propofol.”

“If Bodig had taken propofol, he couldn’t have been driving,” Franklin mumbled to himself then a light-bulb-gone-off look brightened his face. “This’s why you want to see the car. You think it was tampered with.”

“It’s possible,” Mitch said, not wanting to get into details of their investigation with Franklin. “We’d appreciate a copy of the accident report as soon as possible.”

“I’ll run one off right now.” Franklin got up. “Be right back.”

When he was out of hearing distance, Mitch faced Kat. “Not what you expected to hear?”

“No, but the lack of skid marks aren’t conclusive. He still could’ve been murdered.” Her chin jutted out in a cute defiant angle.

“Agreed. If our killer has access to propofol, he could get any number of drugs that didn’t show up on the basic tox screen Franklin had run. If Bodig had drugs on board it would’ve seriously hindered his ability to drive.” He smiled to try to ease the concern wedged on her face. “But we’ll need solid evidence before we can request additional tests.”

“Question is where are we going to find that evidence?”

“You up for a road trip?”

“Where to?”

“The accident scene.” He felt the excitement of the hunt raising his pulse and heard it settling in his voice.

“Absolutely,” she agreed. “Though after two months it seems unlikely there’d be anything for us to find.”

“It’s still a good idea to get a visual of how things went down. After that we’ll take a look at Bodig’s vehicle.” He saw Franklin returning, so ended their conversation.

“Here you go.” Franklin handed over the file.

“Thanks.” Mitch stood. “Mind if we take your map?”

“Not at all.” Franklin picked it up and gave it to him.

“You’ve got my card. Call me if you think of anything that might help.”

Franklin gave a clipped nod. “Will do.”

Mitch gestured for Kat to precede him, and they headed for the exit.

“By the way, I meant to say thanks in there,” he said, slipping ahead and holding the door for her.

“For what?”

“For letting me do most of the talking.”

“Don’t get used to it.” She grinned up at him, revealing small dimples in both cheeks.

He ignored the way his heart dipped again and followed her outside.

The sun had given way to rain. More than a drizzle, less than a steady rain. Kat flipped up her hood. Mitch’s P.P.B. windbreaker didn’t have one, so he rushed ahead and unlocked the doors.

In the car, he handed over the paper from Franklin. “Can you call the garage to see if the wreck is still there or if they got rid of it for salvage?”

“Sure.”

He headed out of town, and she dug out her phone. On Highway 30, he paid close attention to the two-lane road. With slick rain, the road could be as dangerous as Franklin had indicated. Kat chatted with the tow company, and he could tell by her questions that they no longer had Bodig’s vehicle.

“The car’s at a salvage yard.” She dialed another number. “Let’s pray it hasn’t been crushed for scrap yet.”

She was right. They should pray. But then he should pray all the time. He just couldn’t seem to manage it. He’d held on to his faith when his dad died just after Mitch turned fifteen, and when Angie turned to drugs. He’d even kept praying after his mom’s death. But when Lori was gunned down and everyone he’d ever loved was taken from him, he knew God no longer cared for him or those he loved. So he’d shut himself off from other people and from God.

But if what Kat said earlier was true, maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe God was still there. And maybe He’d brought Kat into his life again to show him that.

He glanced at her as she concentrated while a rumbling male voice barked at her over the phone. The little bit of a woman holding her own with the surly man brought a smile to his lips.

“How can you not know if the vehicle is there?” Frustration bit into her tone and she took several deep breaths. What followed was kinder, softer. As if she remembered she could get more cooperation using honey. And she could. At least with him. With her sweet tone feeling like a soft smile, resisting her was going to be harder than he first thought.

Seriously, Elliot. You’re acting like an adolescent boy.

He rolled his eyes at his behavior and caught sight in the rearview mirror of a white van fast approaching. He took a better look. Spotted a logo on the hood. Blinked and looked again. The same van as last night.

Nancy’s killer was following them.

Mitch didn’t want to panic Kat so he didn’t say anything but kept an eye on the van. As they reached a narrow turn, the vehicle sped up and the driver gunned the engine.

They were approaching Bodig’s accident site. If their theory was right, the killer had drugged Bodig and forced him off the road. Maybe the driver had the same plans for the two of them, minus the drugs.

“You need to get off the phone,” Mitch said with urgency.

She cupped her hand over it. “I’ll just be another minute.”

He looked up again. The van was now only a few car lengths behind. “A minute’s too long.”

“What’s going on?”

He jerked his head toward the rearview mirror. “You need to brace yourself. It looks like Nancy’s killer is about to run us off the road.”

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