Hide and Seek (Criminal Profiler #1)(65)

He took care to straighten her large T-shirt and made sure its hem covered her private parts. No need to be crass, and he certainly didn’t want the world to think he was a pervert.

He removed a disposable phone from his pocket and dialed a familiar number. It rang three times before he heard a gruff “Hello.”

“It’s me.”

A long pause followed, and then, “What do you want?”

“An alibi.”

More silence. “I did that once before.”

“And you were generously rewarded.”

“The stakes are higher now.”

Rising, he stared up at the bright half moon. “The stakes are always high. That’s what makes it interesting.”

He wouldn’t make threats. They both knew that one word to the cops would bring their house of cards tumbling down.

“What do you want?”

Smiling, he drew in a deep breath and relayed exactly what he needed said if anyone should come asking about him. When he ended the call, he stared up at the bright sky and thought about the next woman.

He had his eye on several, but there was one that rose to the top of his list. Already he imagined his fingers around her slender neck and the final moments they would share.





CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tuesday, November 19, 10:00 p.m.

When everyone left the conference room, Macy sat in silence and dropped her face into her hands. Since she had rolled into town, she had learned precious little. And at the rate she was going, she would drive back to Quantico empty handed and out of a job.

Nevada pushed through the door. “Let’s take a break.”

“I don’t need a break. I need to solve this case.”

“Two hours won’t make a difference, and getting away from the station might help clear your head.”

“I’ve barely gotten started on this investigation.”

He picked up her backpack. “Break. Food.”

Knowing her mind was running in circles, she realized an hour or two might be what she needed. Macy followed him out the back door of the station and got into his car. He started driving, and she didn’t pay close attention to the passing buildings until he took a road leading out of town.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To my house. I’ll make us a meal, and then we can get back to it in a few hours.”

“To your house. I’m not sure that’s smart.”

“Afraid you can’t keep your hands off of me?” he challenged.

She studied his amused profile and realized how much she’d missed his sense of humor. “Your honor is safe with me, Sheriff.”

He laughed and turned down more roads, following a series of smaller and smaller side streets until he took a hard right onto a freshly paved blacktop driveway. It snaked up the side of the mountain, winding around a switchback curve, and then pushed up to the final stretch.

The house waiting for them was not what she had expected when she had heard farmhouse. It was large and at least a five-thousand-square-foot extravagance of stone, tall glass windows, and a wide covered porch that wrapped around the entire front of the house.

“Wow, Grandpa rolled large,” she said.

“He built roads for a living.”

“And made a small fortune.”

He hit a button on his visor and a garage door on the side opened, allowing him to pull in. He shut off the engine. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“Why not?”

A combination lock opened the door leading from the garage into the kitchen. She paused to study the neat display of mountain bikes, hiking gear, and ski equipment precisely arranged along the walls.

“How long did he live here?” she asked.

“Forty years.”

“This gentleman was also Ellis’s grandfather?”

“No. I’m related to Ellis on my mother’s side. George, my grandfather who built this house, was my dad’s father.”

“You were close to George?” She’d slept with the guy, but neither had really talked about their pasts.

“My grandfather raised me from age fifteen onward after my parents died.”

“You never told me that. How did your parents die?”

“Car accident. Hit head-on by a drunk driver.”

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

“It was a long time ago.” He waved her in before he disappeared inside.

She traced her finger over the handlebar of a mountain bike, realizing she wanted to know more about Nevada. Curiosity served her well on the job, but it wouldn’t in this case. She liked the guy a lot, but the less she knew about him, the better. Regardless of their pasts, their futures were headed in opposite directions. If she went inside Nevada’s house, the odds of her sleeping with him were high. God knows she wanted it. But when the case ended and she returned to Quantico, she would again endure the one-two punch of loss and longing.

“Since when did fear stop you?” she muttered.

Shouldering her backpack, she followed him inside. Nevada shrugged off his boots and hung his coat on a peg in the entryway. Her gaze was drawn to the vaulted ceiling cutting high into an A-frame and a wall of windows that overlooked another deck and the rolling mountains behind the house.

She toed off her shoes and crossed in sock feet to the window. “You have the high ground. Expecting an invasion?”