Ty may have made a mistake in kissing her. However, he just wasn’t able to control himself. He’d had to devour those lips, to taste the sweetness on them and revel in the scent of her skin. She had smelled so good, something floral, but he hadn’t been able to tell if it was from her perfume or her hair. Whatever it was, he wanted to take it deep into his lungs once again.
He hadn’t got nearly enough of her, or gone to the depths of the places he’d needed and wanted to explore.
He needed to taste more of her, to lick every last drop of sweet sweat from her skin as he kissed down from her lips...
He stirred.
No, he reminded himself. I definitely made a mistake.
Not only was she somewhat the cause of his friend’s death, but she was also part of an active investigation. There were so many ethically gray areas in his falling for her again that he simply couldn’t take things between them any further.
The sensible part of him was relieved that the detective from DCI had pulled up behind them, ending things. If he got the opportunity to continue things with Holly tonight, or some other time, he wasn’t sure what he would do. It would take a will of steel not to pull her back into his arms and show her all the things he’d missed doing to her over the years. He had thought of her so many times.
He had thought he had put all of those old feelings away; however now that he was facing her head-on and being in such close proximity, everything had just come back in waves.
He got out of his pickup, casting one more gaze in her direction as he berated himself. She looked as torn and confused as he was feeling. He took a little bit of delight in seeing that her reaction was much like his own.
“Why don’t you wait here for a moment, and let me talk to this detective?”
Holly nodded, but she refused to meet his gaze.
Ty closed the door and walked back toward the waiting detective from DCI. He’d never been overly friendly with Detective Josh Stowe. They had worked together a few times before, and the man was all business and a bit too tall in the saddle for his liking.
The guy was tapping on his phone as Ty walked up. He rolled his window down. “How’s it going, Stowe? I appreciate you coming our way. I’m sure you had a thousand other things on your plate today.”
Stowe waved him off. “It’s nice to get out of the office once in a while and deal with something fresh. I have a stack of cases on my desk I’ve been working on for months. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like they are going anywhere.”
He could understand the feeling. “I hear you.”
Stowe slapped the bottom of the window frame as he opened up the door and stepped outside. “I just talked to Sheriff Sanderson and had him give me a status report. And I called the judge. He approved our warrant. Who all’s going to be working this with us from your team?”
He just knew Stowe was going to love his answer. “Just you and me.”
“That’s it?” Stowe looked at his pickup. “Not the officer with you, as well?”
Of course, he’d assume anyone with Ty was a LEO, it wasn’t a common thing to have a detective with company. That was more of a patrol officer thing, to have a ride along.
“She’s a witness and she knows our suspect. In fact, it is my belief that she is the reason he’s gone off the rails.”
The other detective nodded, as if this was something he had seen a ton of times. “Relationships, man. It’s a wonder that any of us make it out alive.” Stowe laughed.
“You’re not wrong.” He leaned against the back of the truck and took out his phone to look at his emails. The judge had signed off on the search warrant; he wasn’t surprised, but he wondered how the other detective knew before he had. Clearly, he must have made phone calls before he’d arrived on the scene. “As I’m sure you know we’ve already been here doing some surveillance. So far, we haven’t seen anything to indicate that our suspect is inside the residence, but enough time has passed since the shooting we believe he may have been able to deposit any weapons he may have used inside. As for his pattern of life, normally during this time of day he is at work. Today, however, that obviously isn’t the case.”
“What are we looking for inside the home?”
He looked in the direction of the chestnut-brown house. The driveway had been shoveled during the last snowfall; berms of icy snow were stacked on each side. The sidewalk to the front door, however, was still littered with ice and patches of snow. Clearly, the guy wasn’t having a lot of guests, at least through the front door.
“Due to the nature of the shooting, we are to collect any firearms, reloading supplies, surplus ammo, bullets, magazines, or any gun-related items. We’re gonna need to test them to see if they were involved in the shooting in any way.”
Stowe dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I know I told you in text, but I want to reiterate how sorry I am about your friend’s passing. Have you made any headway on that case?”
Ty wasn’t sure how the detective had gotten from their search warrant to Moose’s death so quickly, but he appreciated the guy’s sentiment—it was always hard to lose a fellow brother in blue, even if a person wasn’t close to them. No doubt, for Stowe, Moose’s death acted as a reminder that their job brought continual danger and unknown threats.
“Nothing so far. Just got the ME’s autopsy report back. Looks like he suffered trauma consistent with that made by an eight-inch-long blade.”
“That’s a big knife.” Stowe’s expression darkened.
“That’s what I thought, too. Larger than a folding knife carried by most hunters or outdoorsman. It’s strange, but then again everything about his death was.”
“That’s kind of what I’d heard.” Stowe scowled. “He was a good dude, though. Funny as hell.”
“I miss him already.”
“As I’m sure his girlfriends do,” Stowe said, with a laugh. He glanced over at him like he was checking to make sure that his joke hadn’t been too soon.
Ty chuckled, trying to pacify the guy. “Moose definitely had a harem. I haven’t heard from any of them. He’d been talking about settling down the last time we chatted, but who knows with him.”
Stowe stared over at the house. “Do you think that any of them had anything to do with his death?”
Ty shrugged. “I can’t see how. The only women on the hill, at least that I know about, were Valerie, Cindy and our vic. None of them reported having a relationship beyond friendship with him.”
“What about the guys?”
Ty frowned. “I don’t think Moose was dating any of them, either.”
“That’s not really what I meant, but that’s also worth looking into.”
Ty shrugged. “Not a whole lot surprises me anymore. You know how it is, you see everything.”
“You think we are going to see anything interesting in this place? Anything unexpected?” Stowe asked, nudging his chin in the direction of Robert’s house.
Ty stopped leaning and pressed down his shirt, nervously. He had no idea what they were walking into, but he was hoping that it would lead to some kind of answer and at least a resolution in this case. Holly needed to be kept safe and protected and out of the sites of that man.
“There’s only one way to find out. Let’s grab our gear and head over there.” He walked to the back door of his truck, behind Holly and took out his kit.
Holly looked over her shoulder at him. Her blond hair was falling loose over her shoulders, and it caught the sun, making a halo effect around her face. He tried to control the thrashing in his chest as he looked at her. She was so goddamn beautiful that she could nearly make him forget everything else that was going on in their world.
All he wanted to do was kiss her again—mistake or no mistake, at least for those precious seconds he was exactly where he wanted to be and doing exactly what he wanted to do. Kissing her was where he belonged.
She ran her hand over her face, pushing a wayward hair behind her ear, nervously. “Can I come with you? I promise I won’t touch anything. I just don’t want to be sitting out here, all alone.”
Her voice was high-pitched and airy, and he could hear her fear and it felt like a punch to his gut. If he had just taken Robert out on the highway when he’d had the chance, he wouldn’t have been putting her back in another compromising position.
He should have killed him. He should have neutralized his pickup at the very least, but in that moment all he could think about was Holly and the situation she was in. He hated putting her in danger; and yet, here he was again, sifting through an impossible set of choices and trying to find the right answers to questions he never knew he’d be forced to face.
He unbuttoned his uniform shirt and slipped it off his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting naked.” He smirked. “Is that a problem?” he teased.
Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“I’m kidding.” He pulled his bulletproof vest off and handed it over to her. “You need to put this on.”
She took his Kevlar vest and slipped it on over her head.
His body was warm where the vest had rested against his skin, and it brought him a certain amount of comfort to know that his warmth was against her. Even if it couldn’t be his body, at least he was close to her.
He opened her door and helped her to pull the straps tight. “It’s a little big, but I’d rather you have it on in case something happens.”
She glanced up at him. “He’s not in there, is he?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I’m not gonna put you at risk. You keep that vest on until I tell you to take it off.”
Or I take it off for you. Though it wasn’t the most appropriate moment, his thoughts turned to him undressing her in the dark. If only things were different.
“Is it okay that I go in there? You know, with everything going on?” she asked, nibbling at her lip.
“I don’t want you waiting out here alone. Just don’t touch anything and please stick close to me.”
The way he spoke made fear rise within her. “You don’t really think that he’s going to show up or anything, do you?”
It was definitely a possibility, especially if he had some kind of tech in his house that notified him upon their entry. Weasels had a way of popping up their heads when their territory was disturbed.
“I doubt it,” he lied. “This is just to make me feel better.”
She smiled at him, mollified.
He held out his hand and motioned for her to step out of the vehicle. Though he was aware that the other detective was likely watching them, he helped her slip from her seat before letting go of her hand.
He closed her door and grabbed his gear from the back seat. He pulled out his spare bulletproof vest and put it on, then put on his shirt and quickly buttoned it before slipping his bag over his shoulder.
Stowe walked over to them. “Holly this is Detective Josh Stowe, with DCI. Stowe, Holly.”
Stowe gave her a tip of the head but didn’t offer his hand.
“Let’s roll.” Ty motioned for the detective to follow them as they crossed the street and moved toward the door. He knocked, announcing their presence. There was no sound coming from inside. He reached down and unholstered his weapon. “Holly,” he said, turning to face her. “You stay right there. We have to clear the structure. Okay?”
She nodded in understanding.
“Stowe, you ready?” he asked the detective.
The man tipped his head. “Let’s do this.” He stepped around Holly, giving her a gentle reassuring smile that made Ty like the guy a little more. He might have been a bit too big for his britches, but at least he was still a good human.
He went to the door and tried the knob. It was unlocked—at least he didn’t have to kick it in. He opened the door a crack. “Robert Finch, this is the Madison County Sheriff’s Department, we are here with a warrant to search your residence. If you are present, come out with your hands in the air!” he ordered.
Holly sucked in a breath behind him as he reached down and opened the unlocked front door. The finding surprised him. It wasn’t entirely unusual for people not to lock their doors in Montana, but it was unusual for a suspect in an attempted homicide.
The smell hit him first. It was unmistakable. The coppery-metallic odor filled his senses and settled as a faint taste on his tongue. Blood. Lots of blood.
He glanced back over his shoulder at Stowe as he entered the house, looking to see if the other man sensed it, as well.
“Holy—” Stowe muttered. “Are you getting that, too?”
He nodded, looking into the entryway. To his left was a living room, which led to the main area of the house. In front of him was a typical entrance, a coatrack and a closet then at the far end of the little hallway was a set of stairs. At the top step, dripping down the beige carpet was a long trail of red. From their angle it was hard to say with any certainty, but if he had to guess the blood’s source was probably lying just out of sight at the top.
He considered stopping and calling in more units, but there weren’t any to spare. They had to handle this.
“Robert Finch, if you are inside the residence, put your hands up and step out where we can see you!” he ordered, louder than before in some hope that the source of the blood wasn’t the man who’d gone missing.
There was no answer, not even the barking of a dog in the neighbor’s yard. It was eerily quiet, so quiet that he could hear his own breathing and the racing of his heart.
He wasn’t known for being nervous in these kinds of situations. If anything, he was typically cool under pressure, but Holly was throwing everything out of whack—she shouldn’t have been there. He glanced behind him at her, but she was standing to the side of the open door and all he could see was the back of her hand and part of her side. It appeared as though she had her back turned to them and was peering out into the street.
He motioned for Stowe to close the door. She didn’t need to witness what they were walking into. At least he could protect her from that.
He gestured toward the stairs as Stowe closed the door and kept it open just a crack. He liked the guy’s style.
They cleared the living room to their left, then the kitchen and the rest of the ground floor of the house. Everything except the blood stain seemed normal and mostly well-kept. Nothing on the main floor gave him the impression that there had been any sort of struggle or fight.
His ankle cracked as he started to ascend the stairs. Nearing the top, he called out to Robert again, hoping the man would reply or appear in the event he was still alive or in the house. Again, he was met with eerie silence.
At first glance, he could make out a trail of the crimson liquid trickling down the hall and disappearing into the furthest bedroom on the left.
A giant black blow fly buzzed toward him, landing on his shoulder.
He hated flies.
Flies only meant one thing—they were nearing a death scene.
Clearing the hall and the other bedrooms, they worked toward what was a possible crime scene. As they neared the bedroom door, the drone of flies grew louder. He cringed at the sound; it was the same sound that frequented his nightmares. There was the faint aroma of decay, the kind that came with a recent death. For that, he was grateful. If they were finding death it was far better to find it sooner rather than later.
The bedroom door was closed, and he tapped on it, hoping against hope that he would get an answer. Instead, he only heard the buzzing of flies.
He reached down and touched the cold metal handle. Turning it, the door drifted open. The flies lifted into the air in a little black cloud of wings and bodies. There, on the floor in the master bedroom, next to the bed was Robert’s dead body. Under his jaw was a small, tattooed edge gunshot wound. Blood was coming out of his mouth and stained the front of his white shirt and jeans. The injury was deadly, but it mustn’t have killed him instantly as he may have walked from where they had initially encountered the blood trail—or, someone had moved him.
At the edge of the hole, a black fly moved. Ty waved his hand, shooing it off.
Near Robert’s right hand was a Glock 19.
If he had to make a split-second judgment, it appeared as though Robert had committed suicide. However, after years working in law enforcement, he’d learned that the causes of deaths weren’t always as they appeared.