course, he’d only gotten that sheriff’s badge after his own father had been murdered, and she knew Kellan would have gladly given it up to have his father back.
“Stay right next to me,” Kellan insisted, and he stepped into the small entry. The moment they were both inside, he motioned for her to shut the door.
Gemma did, and while she kept a firm grip on her gun, they stood there, listening. With her body sandwiched between Kellan and the door. The back of him pressed against the front of her.
It stirred different kinds of memories.
Of the heat that had once simmered between them. Of the long, lingering looks that he’d once given her with gunmetal eyes. Of the way his rough hands had skimmed over her body. Years ago, they’d been lovers but had drifted apart when she’d left for college. They’d found their way back to each other and likely would have landed in bed again if Eric hadn’t struck first. After that, well, Kellan no longer wanted her that way.
Because he blamed her for his father’s death.
Of course, he blamed himself, too, which had put an even bigger wedge between them. Kellan would never be able to forgive himself for what’d happened, and Gemma wasn’t sure she could forgive him for not being able to stop it.
All that lack of forgiveness was why she knew something was horribly wrong. This was the last place Kellan would have wanted to come, and she was the last person he’d want to try to protect.
“Wait here while I have a look around,” Kellan insisted. “And lock the door. If you hear anything, and I mean anything, get down on the floor.” He glanced back over his shoulder at her, and she saw that his jaw had tightened even more than it had been when he’d first arrived. “Understand?” he added.
There was a lot of anger and old baggage in that understand. The last time she hadn’t listened to a sheriff, she’d nearly been killed and two people had been murdered. Maybe three since one of the possible victims, Caroline Moser, was still missing and presumed dead. She would definitely listen this time.
Kellan stepped away from her, heading first to the kitchen, where he checked the pantry. Since the living room, dining room and kitchen were all open, she had no trouble seeing him, but that changed when he went into the bedrooms. First hers and then the guest room. Gemma just stood there, waiting and praying. If Eric was indeed inside, she didn’t want him claiming another victim.
Especially a victim who was trying to protect her.
That’s what Kellan’s father, Buck, had been doing the night Eric had gunned down him and his deputy. Then Eric had escaped and hadn’t been seen in the past year. But unlike the people he’d murdered that night, Eric was very much alive. Gemma could feel that all the way down to her breath and bones.
It seemed to take an eternity or two, but Kellan finally came out from the bedrooms, and he shook his head. “He’s not here, but your bedroom window was open. I’m guessing you didn’t leave it that way?”
The air stalled in her throat, and it took her a moment to answer. “No. I’ve never opened that window.” Heck, the only times she’d ever opened the curtains was to make sure the window was closed and locked.
He nodded, and the grunt he made let her know that it was the answer he’d expected. “So, someone’s been here. Maybe Eric.” He went to the keypad for the alarm, brushing against her arm as he walked by her. It was barely a touch, but she noticed.
So did Kellan.
Their gazes connected for a split second before he mumbled some profanity and looked away. He sounded disgusted with himself. Maybe because he didn’t want to feel that quick punch of attraction. Gemma didn’t want to feel it, either. It was a distraction, and something like that could get them both killed.
Kellan took out his phone and texted someone. Perhaps one of his brothers who were all in law enforcement. Gemma took out her phone, too, ready to call her handler, Marshal Amanda Hardin, but Kellan shook his head.
“Don’t involve your handler yet,” he said. “There’s been a leak, and I haven’t discovered the source.”
Gemma lost what little breath she’d managed to regain, and because she had no choice, she leaned against the wall for support. Kellan helped, too. Well, he did after he muttered more of that profanity. He took hold of her arm, marched her to the sofa and had her sit before he went to the window. Keeping watch.
“What happened?” she asked. “Tell me about the leak.”
He glanced back at her, his tight jaw letting her know she should brace herself, that what he was about to say would be bad news. “There’s been another murder.”
Gemma was glad she was sitting down, but she had to shake her head. Kellan was a sheriff, and while Longview Ridge wasn’t exactly a hotbed of crime, murders did happen there. That was something that Kellan and she both had too much experience with. However, Gemma couldn’t figure out why a murder there would have brought Kellan here to her WITSEC house in Austin, a good ninety miles from Longview Ridge. Unless...
“Did Eric kill someone else?” she managed to say.
Kellan’s hesitation confirmed that that was indeed what had happened. “We found the body about two hours ago.”
Two hours. That meant Kellan had left the crime scene and come straight to her. “Who was killed?” she snapped.
Judging from the way his forehead bunched up, he didn’t want to tell her. But then she knew it was connected to her, or Kellan wouldn’t be here. “Iris Kirby,” he finally answered.
That felt like the slam of another bullet into her. Oh, God. Iris. Gemma knew her, of course. She knew almost everyone in Longview Ridge. Iris had been her favorite teacher in high school.
Gemma wasn’t sure she could stomach hearing the answer to this, but it was a question she had to ask. “You’re sure she was murdered? And how do you know it was Eric?”
Without taking his attention from the window, he pulled up a photo on his phone and handed it to her. “That was left at the crime scene. And as for how we know it’s murder, Iris died from three gunshot wounds to the torso.”
The slams and punches just kept coming, and each of them brought one more wave of the nightmarish images. That’s because Eric had shot both Gemma and Kellan’s father three times. She supposed Eric considered that his signature. One of them anyway. Leaving notes at the crime scenes was the other. And the picture on Kellan’s phone was that of a note.
“‘Too late again, Sheriff Slater,’” she read aloud. “‘Tell Gemma that Iris didn’t suffer. I made it fast as a favor to her. And then tell Gemma that she’s next. I know where to find her. Three-twenty-three East Lane, Austin. Our girl didn’t go too far, did she?’”
As hard as it was to read those words, Gemma tamped down the rising fear and tried to view this as a profiler. The note was meant to taunt Kellan and her.
And it had.
Along with twisting her insides into knots. Judging from the tight muscles in Kellan’s body, it had done the same to him. However, this wasn’t proof there had been a breach in WITSEC.
“How would Eric have gotten access
