Hunter approached the tree from the back, where the trail camera was mounted, to make sure whoever had put it there wouldn’t get a glimpse of him on camera. He’d like nothing more than to stomp the thing to bits, but this might be just the break they’d been looking for. On the older models, you had to physically get the SD card from the camera. But on the newer ones, you could connect to your cell phone, and they’d send images to you via email or text. If that was the case, it just might net him the cell number of Charlee’s stalker. But either way, Hunter planned to watch the watcher. He headed back to his truck to get what he needed.
When he came inside a few minutes later, Charlee stood up from the couch. “A trail camera?”
“Yes. I’ll see if we can track down the serial number. If we’re really lucky, maybe a cell number it’s tied to. Either way, we’ll be ready if our guy comes back.” He grinned.
He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. “You installed another camera?”
“You bet. I’m covering all the bases. If it’s a cellular model and Byte can trace it, great. But if it’s one of the older models, our guy will have to come back to get the SD card or replace the battery. We’ll be watching.”
Charlee rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “It all makes perfect sense. I just don’t like knowing someone’s been watching me. Even worse to think they’ll still be doing it.”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, just act—”
She held up a hand. “Seriously? Do not tell me to act natural.”
His eyes were steady on hers. “Just trying to catch this guy.”
“Right. I know. I don’t want to miss the big picture, so to speak.” She shuddered.
Every protective instinct sprang to life. He wanted to pull her close and promise her it would all be okay. But nobody could promise that, and he respected her too much to offer empty words. Still, the need to hold and protect her gnawed at his good sense. The best thing he could do right now was figure out who was after her. Frustration made his voice gruff. “I need to make some calls. Why don’t you lie down for a while? You look like you’ve been staked out in the desert for days.”
She batted her eyelashes at him, à la Scarlett O’Hara, and drawled, “I declare, you say the sweetest things.”
She surprised a laugh out of him, a real laugh that made him shake his head.
“You should laugh more often, Lieutenant,” she quipped, then sashayed down the hall and closed her bedroom door.
He stared after her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed, truly laughed. She had a way of bringing things out in him he’d thought long dead.
Focus, Boudreau. He gave Byte the camera’s serial number, hoping it was connected to a cell signal, but he doubted it. It appeared to be one of the older models. Then he updated his captain and responded to the regular two-hour check-in from dispatch, confirming all was well. He also checked in with Fish and Sanchez for an update and checked the CAD log to see what issues his other patrol officers were facing today.
Finally, he called Josh, who had planned to do an aerial patrol of a section of the Ocala National Forest this morning. “Tanner.”
“Hey, Hollywood, Boudreau. No issues on that flyover this morning?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you have a chance yet to check if anyone saw any other cars leaving the area of the shooting?”
“Of course. I always do my job, Lieutenant.”
Obviously still ticked off about Hunter’s promotion. Hunter let the silence stretch. “And?” he finally prompted.
Josh heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I checked with all the first responders, talked to a couple old-timers who don’t live far from there, and questioned anyone else I could think of. No one saw another car in the area. But I did find an elderly couple at the Corner Café who said they’d been coming back from a trip to Ocala for doctor’s appointments when they saw a dark-blue pickup truck barreling away from the forest like, and I quote, ‘The hounds of hell were after him.’ They didn’t get a license plate or good look at the face, though they did say they thought he was a pretty big guy and wearing a ball cap. Which could describe just about any male who lives out here between the ages of eighteen and sixty-five.”
“Any luck at local tire shops?”
“I called both places along SR-40, then called every shop on that end of town, but got nothing. On a hunch, I stopped by Joe’s junkyard out that way, too. Nobody claimed to have worked on a blue pickup lately.”
Hunter huffed out a curse. They needed a solid lead. “Thanks, Hollywood. I appreciate it.”
“Like I said, Lieutenant, just doing my job.”
Hunter ignored the chill. In Josh’s place, he’d have been frustrated at being passed over, too. He’d give the man some space. They’d find their way eventually. “Charlee and I spoke to Travis. He’s got a crush on your sister, does Travis. Left work early the other day to make sure she was okay. Says he had overheard mention of the anniversary. Charlee read him the riot act for fretting over her instead of starting CPR on Brittany when he arrived.”
“Slimy little coward. I bet she did.” There was a pause, then Josh added, “It’s damn coincidental that Travis just ‘happened’ to show up there at that time.”
“Agreed. But to what end? That he has a thing for Charlee, I get. That he let it distract him from what he needed to do, I also get. But that he would want to harm Brittany for some reason? It’s a big leap I’m not sure I’m ready to make.”
“Why don’t I run his background? I think he grew up around here, but I can’t be sure.”
“Do that and let me know. Thanks, Hollywood.”
“How’s Charlee?”
“Sleeping right now. Brittany’s death hit her hard, and she didn’t get much sleep last night. And I’m sure her head is still pounding. But she’s tough. She’ll handle it.”
“I can come spell you for a while.”
“No. We’re fine here.” In the ensuing silence, Hunter realized he’d answered too fast. “If you’ll get me the background on Travis, that’ll help.”
* * *
Hunter checked on Charlee throughout the night, but she never stirred. At six, he made coffee and did a search for Brittany Harris’s name. Not surprisingly, she was all over social media, especially Instagram. There were lots of pictures of her “enduring” the trip to Florida with her lame brother and stupid father, but none of that was out of the ordinary. Wyatt didn’t show up there, but he was all over the online gaming forums and chat rooms. It didn’t take long to find out which games he played most often, who his gaming partners were, that he couldn’t wait to graduate and get away from his family, and that he thought school was a waste of time. He was particularly vocal about a certain math professor at his private school who, to hear Wyatt tell it, picked on him all the time for no reason.
By the time Charlee mumbled, “Morning,” as she wandered into the kitchen, Hunter had just typed the professor’s name into the search engine and the school’s website popped up.
She walked behind his chair and stopped when she saw his open laptop. “Why are you looking up JJ and Nora Jennings’s school?”
Hunter turned to face her. “I wasn’t. I was looking up Wyatt and Brittany Harris’s school.”
All the color drained from Charlee’s face. “Tell me that’s some kind of sick joke.” She poured a glass of water, and a bit sloshed over the rim as she sat down across from him.
Hunter typed in JJ Jennings’s name and found himself on another page of the school website, with an “in memoriam” listing for James Junior Jennings.
He checked several more pages on the website, and that twitchy feeling at the back of his neck intensified. “No joke. According to the website, all four kids went to the same private school in White Springs.”
“And one child from each family died exactly one year apart? No.” Charlee shook her head. “Can’t be coincidence.”
“I agree.” Something stank about this whole scenario. His phone rang. “Boudreau. What have you got?” He shifted away so he could focus without being distracted by Charlee’s questioning gaze.
“You said you were looking for information on the Brittany Harris autopsy right away, Lieutenant,” the medical examiner said.
“Yes, thanks for getting back to me so quickly.”
“Your initial assessment was correct. Brittany Harris was suffocated. There was no indication that any system failed that would have caused her death. There were no puncture wounds, no drugs in her system except what was prescribed. Someone put tape over her nose and mouth and suffocated her.”
Hunter tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. The who and why will be up to you, Lieutenant.”
“It is possible she was strangled? She had bruises on her neck.”
There was a pause. “I considered it, but I don’t think so. The bruising was too light.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” He hung up and faced a wide-eyed Charlee. “I’m sure you heard all that. The ME confirmed Brittany died of suffocation, not the gunshot.” He picked up his phone.
“Why strangle her and use the duct tape?”
“Good question. To buy time? To keep her quiet?”
“Who are you texting?” Charlee asked.
“Your brothers and Sanchez and Fish. I want to get everyone together for a meeting.”
Then he called his captain and updated him.
All the while, Charlee didn’t say a word, just paced the small room, arms locked around her middle, equal parts sadness and fury in her eyes.
When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he stepped around the table and pulled her into his arms. After a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her grip like she’d never let him go. He rubbed his hands up and down her back in a soothing motion, struggling not to notice the way her breasts pressed against his chest or how perfectly they fit together. Her sweet vanilla scent made him want to nuzzle her neck, but he didn’t let himself. The more time he spent with her, especially lately, the more he admired her. And the more he wanted her. She was sharp and beautiful, and lately, she was starting to shed the insecurities that had surrounded her the past year. The fire rekindling inside her made him want to get close enough to absorb some of her heat. But she was his friend, and he knew if he pushed, he could put their friendship in jeopardy. He wouldn’t risk that. She meant too much to him.
Even as he told him himself that for the tenth time, she shifted back slightly in his arms so she could see his face. His hands settled at her waist, and he pulled her closer, ran his hands over that sleek back and down her very sexy butt. Their eyes met. Held, and the mix of vulnerability and strength in hers was almost his undoing. Especially since she was looking at him as though he were a mirage that had suddenly appeared after a long, dusty trek through an endless desert. And she was ready for a deep drink.
Electricity crackled and sparked between them, and his hands reached up to cup her smooth cheeks, run his thumbs over the soft skin. Time stretched and froze, and before he could force himself to move away from the temptation in her beautiful eyes, she slowly leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips over his.
The contact shocked him like a jolt from a Taser, and his hold on her tightened. Their lips met again, and the fire burst into flame. She made a sound at the back of her throat and opened her lips wider. He plunged his tongue inside, wanting more of her sweet taste. More of her heat. When she wrapped her arms around his waist and plastered her curves to his, reality slapped him. Hard. She wasn’t ready for this. They weren’t ready for this. The timing sucked.
It took every ounce of his self-control to take that one necessary step back, to put some distance between them. Her eyes blinked open, wide and confused. His hands didn’t want to let go, so he backed up another step for good measure, until he could breathe again.
A flush climbed Charlee’s cheeks, and she turned and straightened some mail, not meeting his eyes. But somehow, her self-consciousness just made him want her more.
No. Absolutely not. He couldn’t let himself get close, couldn’t get involved with Charlee, especially not now, while they were in the middle of a case. She mattered too much. His feelings for her could distract him, cause tunnel vision. And if that happened, people died. He wouldn’t risk that with her. He touched Johnny’s bracelet, put the barriers firmly back around his heart. Johnny’s death would always remind him of what happened if he let emotions cloud his judgment. He would never make that mistake again.
He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, took a deep breath. “You can sit in on the meeting, but you need to let us do our jobs.” Really, could he have made a more idiotic statement?
Her eyes met his, and her expression went hard. “Right. Civilian. Murder investigation.”
She whirled around and would have slipped past him, but he stopped her with a light touch on her arm. “You’re beautiful, Charlee. And you make me crazy.”
“I’m not anyone’s toy.”
His eyebrows shot to his hairline. Where had that come from? Rick? “No, you’re a lady who should be treated as such by a man who will treat you right.”
She tossed her head and kept walking.
He let her go. Distance, he reminded himself. Professional distance. Friendship.
Charlee had no idea how sexy she was. She was smart and strong, but she was also picket fences, babies, and forever. The one woman he sensed could change his life forever. If he let her. Which he could never risk, certainly not in the middle of a case. No matter how strong the pull.
He would protect Charlee. And he had a killer to catch.
If she made him feel things he’d never felt before, he’d ignore it. It was better that way. Safer for their friendship, safer for his relationship with her brothers, altogether safer for his heart.
* * *
Charlee paced her bedroom, trying to gather her scattered wits. What had she been thinking, throwing herself at Hunter again? Hadn’t she learned her lesson about macho males with Rick? And Hunter had backed away like she was a live grenade. Fine. Whatever. They were friends, good friends. Actually, the best friend she’d ever had. Around him, she felt like she could be herself, without fear of judgment. If lately he looked at her with the same growing hunger she felt for him, it was better, safer, if they both ignored it. She didn’t want to lose the ease between them, the closeness, by behaving like an idiot. She took several deep breaths and walked back out to the living room.
He looked up from his laptop, expression carefully blank. “You up to some more questions?”
She could pretend, too. She sank down on the sofa, since the annoying dizziness still hit at odd times. “Ask away.”
“Did you sense any hostility toward Brittany or Wyatt from Paul Harris?”
Charlee considered. “No. He came across as a divorced dad trying to do right by his teenagers—neither of whom wanted to be around him, which is typical. Brittany liked playing the martyr, and Wyatt hid behind his video games. There was anger on Brittany’s side.” She thought about it. “Wyatt’s, too, given the way he avoids his father. I worry there’s some abuse, but I’m having trouble seeing Paul in that role. I got the sense that the three had once been close, and Paul was desperate to regain that. I can’t picture him trying to kill either one of them.”
Hunter nodded. “What about Oliver Dunn? Besides his stalker vibe, anything else stand out to you?”
Charlee looked away, then met his gaze. “Honestly, I just tried to avoid him. But he tried to help Paul connect with his kids, to engage them in conversation, make jokes.”
“How did Paul feel about that?”
Charlee searched her memory. “At first, he didn’t look happy, but after a while, they all seemed to be having a good time.”
“Where did Oliver say he was from?”
“If he said, I don’t remember. I was only focused on two things: making sure everyone had a good time and getting them all back safely.”
“And surviving the one-year anniversary,” Hunter added, brow raised, though he hadn’t asked a question.
She swallowed hard. “Right, get through the day and convince my family I was fine.”
“They care—”
She held up a hand. “I know. Which is why I don’t want to add to their burdens. Next question.”
“Why do you think someone shot at you and Brittany?”
“Shooting at me, I get. But Brittany? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Not to us. But it does to whoever did it. We’ll work every angle until we can see the whole picture.”
It was how an investigation worked. But this was different. Personal. A young girl was dead, and it had something to do with Charlee. She had to think. She walked into her bedroom without a word and put on her tennis shoes, running shorts, and tank, and strapped a knife to her ankle. She passed through the living room and said to Hunter, “Let’s go for a walk. I need to clear my head.”
“Give me two minutes.” He returned in running clothes, gun at his back, and motioned for her to precede him.
Every fiber of her being wanted to go by herself and escape the tingly awareness whenever he was near. But she wasn’t stupid. “I need to process, so keep up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hunter grinned as they set out at a fast walk.
Just being outside, moving, helped settle her mind. Hunter kept pace without a word, and she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. The way his T-shirt stuck to his skin and outlined his chest messed with her equilibrium, and the silence made her want to fill it. But she kept quiet, thinking about the case. She had to keep her priorities straight.
By the time they got back, she felt much more settled, but she was still glad to head for the shower and escape his nearness. When she walked back into the living room, she was surprised to find him alone.
“Where is everyone?”
She leaned over his shoulder as he checked the CAD log, which showed GPS coordinates of each officer’s whereabouts. He pointed to a spot on the map where Sanchez’s and Fish’s call signs were clustered together on a call. For some reason, Josh was there, too. She knew his call sign. Hunter opened the details tab and read the call description out loud. “Resident claims there’s a large gator in his yard and asked for help to remove it.”
Charlee’s eyes widened at the address. “That’s Rick’s place.”
“That’s what I thought.” He dialed his cell phone. “Let’s see if Pete is there, too.” The sheriff’s department had their own system, so Pete’s location wouldn’t show up on Hunter’s screen. “He’s not picking up.”
Charlee was already by the front door, sliding her feet back into her tennis shoes. Rick lived out in the woods, and she never wore flip-flops when she went there. His grass always needed cutting, which meant there could be snakes.
Hunter notified dispatch he was heading to that location and then didn’t say anything more, though his irritation grew with every mile.
“Cell service is always sketchy out there,” she began, but he shot her a look that made her swallow the rest of her words.
“Don’t make excuses for them, Charlee. That’s not your job, and they don’t deserve it.”
She looked out the window. Sure, she’d spent most of her life fighting with her older brothers. But she’d also defended them, always, against outsiders. They’d done the same for her. She didn’t quite know what to do with this. They’d flat-out ignored Hunter. In the middle of an important investigation. That wasn’t like any of them. There had to be another explanation.
Though given the look on Hunter’s face, he didn’t seem inclined to find out.