grim expression on his face.
“Roger, what’s up?”
“We’ve got another one.” The words hung in the air, and for a moment Amberly couldn’t even make sense of them. Another one? Another murder already?
“Who?” Cole asked, his tone terse and filled with the same kind of dread that weighed heavy in Amberly’s heart.
“Casey Richards.”
“Where?” The word shot out of Cole like a bullet.
“He hid this one a little better than the others,” Roger said. “She’s in the back of the alley between the Dollar Store and Suzie’s Collectibles. Looks like she was killed sometime during the night and she was stuffed between the two garbage bins.”
“Is there a dream catcher there?” Amberly asked.
Roger nodded. “Same as the others. Looks like she was stabbed multiple times in the chest, and one of those dream catchers is hanging from a string and dangling over her head.”
“We’re on our way.”
Both Cole and Amberly jumped in his car. Cole started the engine with a roar and then slammed his fists down on the steering wheel and cursed.
Amberly understood the anger that erupted inside him; she felt the same kind of rage along with more than a little bit of fear. It was the fear that they were no closer to catching the murderer and the knowledge that the time between his kills had shortened to almost nothing.
IT WAS AFTER ONE IN THE morning by the time the newest crime scene had been processed and everyone pertinent to the victim and the crime had been interviewed.
Cole and Amberly were the only ones remaining in the conference room, where the bulletin board now held the photos of Casey Richards taken at the scene of the dump site.
Cole’s eyes felt gritty with exhaustion and the weight of frustration he’d carried all afternoon and evening. Amberly looked exhausted, as well. They’d had nothing to eat all day, their entire focus on the new victim and the agonizing realization that the killer was on a time line that they couldn’t predict.
“We need to call it a night,” he finally said, breaking the silence that had momentarily lingered between them.
She nodded. “You’re right. I can’t think anymore. My brain is completely fried.”
He leaned back in the chair and studied her features. She was truly one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, but right now, she looked utterly drained, and the idea of her getting into her car and driving the twenty minutes home concerned him. It was already so late, and he hated the fact that on some level he was worried about her.
“I’ve got an extra bedroom at my house if you want to just crash there for the night instead of making the drive back to your place in Kansas City.” He didn’t really expect her to take him up on the offer, but she tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtful.
“Does the offer of a room come with an offer of any kind of food?” she asked.
He nodded. “I could probably whip up a couple of omelets and some toast.”
“At the moment, that sounds like manna from heaven,” she replied. “I vaguely remember a cup of coffee this morning, but we haven’t fueled up since then. And to be honest, I am really too tired to make the drive home, but I could get a motel room for the rest of the night.”
“Nonsense,” he replied as he pulled himself up and out of his chair. “We’ll eat and then you can crash in my spare room. It’s not a big deal.”
Half an hour later, they were in his kitchen. Amberly sat at the table, her eyes narrowed to tired slits as he stood at the stove, making a cheese-and-mushroom omelet for them to share.
He hadn’t thought it would be a big deal, her being here in his kitchen, her sleeping in his spare room. But as he worked on the food, he was acutely conscious of the scent of her, which had lingered in his head all day long. He was far too aware of his desire to tangle his fingers into that glorious mane of hair and repeat the kiss they’d shared when they’d left Bledsoe’s.
As he popped the bread into the toaster, he thought that it seemed like a lifetime ago that they had gone to the bar together and had shared that crazy kiss.
“Tell me about your son,” he finally said, hoping that any discussion of a six-year-old boy would drive any inappropriate thoughts he might entertain right out of his mind.
The smile