Samantha snapped another shot of Lindsay Milan’s bloodied body, trying like hell to ignore the death glaze in her eyes and the fact that she had known the woman. Investigating murders had once been her job, and though she had on occasion gotten queasy, none of them had been acquaintances of hers.
Lindsay hadn’t had an easy life; her death had been even tougher.
“What do you think?” Zach asked.
“She put up a hard fight. The cuts on her hands are slices, not stabs. Defensive wounds.” Samantha drew closer, snapping shots of her extremities. “Think he restrained her?”
“Don’t think so. No ligature marks on her wrists or ankles. The bruises on her wrists look like finger bruises to me … like on her neck.”
“What about the bite marks? You think that was consensual?”
Zach shook his head. “Hard to say, but if he didn’t restrain her, then my guess is she was okay with it. At least at first. Especially since she’s got several that are a couple of days old.”
“Breasts, stomach, and inside of her thighs. Anywhere else?”
“Yeah, we turned her over. She’s got one on her back, below her right shoulder blade, and a couple on her buttocks.”
“So this guy gives them the rough sex they like and then kills them. Any evidence of semen?”
“No.” He sighed and added, “I didn’t mention this to Savannah, but if you’ll notice the smell …”
He waited until she took a deep breath. Her eyes widened with knowledge of just how thorough the killer had been.
“Yeah … he used bleach to clean her up, inside and out. We found a turkey baster in the kitchen, filled with bleach.”
Samantha’s stomach lurched. Holy hell, that was cold. “Hope she was dead before that happened.”
“Me too,” Zach agreed grimly.
“Any idea on time of death?”
“We’re approximating between noon and 6:00 P.M. Hopefully the coroner can pinpoint it closer.”
Samantha sighed, beyond exhausted. She’d been through every room in the house and had taken at least two hundred photos.
“Come on and I’ll take you home,” Zach said. “The coroner is waiting for my call to come pick up the body.”
Too tired to argue, she walked outside with Zach and took in a deep breath of fresh air. No matter how many murder scenes she saw, she would never get used to them. This one might not have been the most graphic or gruesome, but it had definitely been the most disturbing.
She glanced over at Zach, who seemed to be taking his own deep breaths. “We haven’t talked about Quinn. Aren’t you going to ask me if I think he did it?”
“Do you?”
“No, I’m sure he didn’t.”
“You weren’t too sure once before.”
“And that was a mistake. Someone is trying to make it look that way.”
“Then if you’re right, we need to figure out who it is before he kills again.”
“Any ideas on how you’re going to do that?”
Quinn’s voice behind her had her whirling around. “What are you doing here?”
Instead of looking at her, his gaze was focused on Zach.
“Dammit, Braddock,” Zach snapped, “you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not staying.”
“Then why are you here?”
“For Sam.”
Hearing Quinn’s words in that deliciously growly tone he got on occasion sent a jolt of warm electricity through her bloodstream. When he held out his hand, she couldn’t have stopped herself from joining her hand with his if she had wanted to … which she didn’t.
She felt Zach’s questioning look and gave him a smile. “I’ll be home later. Tell Savvy not to worry.”
Zach nodded and got into his car. The minute he drove away, Quinn pulled Samantha to his car.
“Where are we going?”
“Home … to bed.”
She grinned at him. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
Laughter rumbled in Quinn’s chest. A few hours ago, he hadn’t believed he’d ever laugh again. But now, here with Sam, he had the insane feeling that everything would work out. He had no good reason to think that. The last few months his life had been closing in on the edge of hell. And now that hell had come even closer. But being with Sam blurred all of that.
They were almost home before she asked the question he had been anticipating. “What made you change your mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t.” The one word held a mountain of emotion.
Quinn pulled into the drive. “Let’s get inside, then we’ll talk.”
They got out at the same time. Meeting her in front of the car, he took her hand and pulled her up the steps, unlocked the door, and then pulled her inside. The instant the door closed behind them, she went into his arms.
The depth of his feelings for this woman was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He had thought they were strong when they were in Atlanta, before Charlene’s murder. Those were mild compared to what he was experiencing now.
“I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Quinn. But we’ll figure it out.”
She humbled him with her quick forgiveness. Without his asking for it … even with no explanation of why he’d been such a prick to her before.
“You know I don’t deserve you.”
She pulled away, apparently surprised at his confession. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I’m a dickhead.”
Green eyes lighting up with teasing laughter, she cupped him in her hand. “If you’ll remember our interlude from earlier, you’ll know that I’m particularly fond of that part of your anatomy.”
Laughing at her wicked sense of humor, he said, “Why don’t we take a shower and then we’ll talk.”
“Separate or together?”
“I’ve heard Midnight’s water supply is low.”
“Then I guess we’d better shower together to conserve.”
As they walked up the stairs together, Quinn wondered if it was possible to have these feelings last. He had little to no experience with couples staying together for more than a couple of years. He immediately discounted his own parents’ marriage. From his perspective, love had nothing to do with why they had stayed together for almost forty years.
Quinn opened the door to the bathroom and waited for Sam’s reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Oh, Quinn, when was this done?”
“A week or so ago.”
Letting go of his hand, she walked around the oversized bathroom, touching the gleaming fixtures. “It’s gorgeous.”
“I found some photos in a magazine and asked the contractor to copy it.”
“Where did you get the claw-footed tub?”
He shrugged. “Found it online.”
Her glowing smile of approval made the hours he’d spent perusing magazines and online sites worth it. “I’ll look forward to a good, long soak in it soon,” she said.
He turned the shower on and began to unbutton his shirt. Sam’s soft hands stopped him and she slowly unbuttoned the shirt for him.
Steam from the shower filled the entire room. Everything felt as if it was in slow motion. Quinn slipped Sam’s shirt over her head, leaned down, and licked the moisture gathering at her neck. Hands caressed slick, moist skin, lips kissed, and tongues glided over each other as they lost themselves in a silent declaration of devotion. He had made love to Sam many times, but none had ever seemed more important or poignant. She had given him everything—her trust, faith, and loyalty. He wanted to show her how much he cared for her, appreciated her … cherished her.
When at last they were nude, Quinn nudged her into the shower, and with all the tenderness he knew how to give, he gently washed her body, lingering over soft mounds and delicious curves. And then, when neither of them could stand it anymore, he pressed her back against the wall of the shower, fitted his erection into her hot, welcoming sex, and thrust deep.
With a soft cry of surrender, Sam wrapped herself around him. Buried deep within her heat, Quinn stilled. Everything within him told him to piston back and forth, to take the explosive pleasure Sam’s sweet body offered. But he waited and watched.
Glittering green eyes, dark with passion and love, gazed up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Not a damn thing.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“You.”
“What do you …” She broke off, gasping as he shifted, stroking hard … pressing deep.
“Come for me, Sam.”
Their gazes locked, he watched her eyes widen, felt the pulse of her coming climax as if tiny aftershocks were developing into a massive reaction. And then it happened. With a soft, sexy cry, she came. And at that moment, Quinn gave himself permission to let go, pounding again and again until pleasure drove everything from his mind. Only in this woman’s arms had he ever found this kind of peace.
Burrowed against his chest, so relaxed she could barely move, she whispered, “Hard to believe I could feel so wonderful after all that’s happened.”
“I’m sorry for how I acted before.”
One of the many things she loved about this man was his ability to apologize. She had known some men who would barely make a token apology and assume all was forgiven. And granted, Quinn had hurt her on several occasions, but he was man enough to admit his mistakes.
“You were pushing me away from you. Why?” she asked.
“I would think that would be obvious. Some twisted freak is killing women I’m associated with. You think I want to put you at risk?”
Even though that thought had crossed her mind, his rejection had stung. “So what made you change your mind?”
He hesitated and she knew he was considering not telling her. Shifting in his arms, she looked up at him. “Quinn?”
“Your sister came to see me.”
Breath whooshed from her. She didn’t need to ask which one. “What did Bri say?”
“Hmm, besides the insults? She reminded me that whether I want you involved or not, you were going to be.”
A little let down, she said, “And that’s it?”
“Should there be another reason?”
Shrugging, she turned her head away. “I guess not.”
Quinn made a sudden abrupt move and Samantha found herself on her back looking up at him. Though they had closed the blinds to shut out the daylight and the room was dim, she had no problem seeing the fierce gleam in his eyes.
His voice gravel rough, he said fiercely, “Do you want me to say that staying away from you for more than a minute is painful for me? That the thought of not having you in my life tears at my soul? That just seeing your face creates a peace inside me I’ve never felt before? That having you in my arms is like coming home?”
Tears filled her eyes. Quinn had stripped himself bare, exposed his deepest thoughts and feelings—ones she had never expected. Whether he used the words or not, he had just told her he loved her. That was all she had ever wanted to hear from him.
Cupping his face in her hands, she brought him down to her mouth and whispered softly, “I love you, Quinn Braddock. With all of my body, heart, soul, and strength, I love you.”
She heard a groan, wasn’t sure if it came from her or him and didn’t care. His mouth moved tenderly, softly over hers, and Samantha pushed aside everything but the glory of the moment as she gave her heart and her body to the love of her life.