Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Deputy.” With a hand on the small of Nina’s back, Rory offered his hand to the officer, then waited until the cop had done the same with Nina before asking, “How can we help you?”

“Morning, sir, ma’am. Deputy Jones. I’m here because of some trouble down the mountain.”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble requires la policia?”

Rory gave an inward sigh of relief. The accent and mannerisms were all Octavia.

Whether it was for the deputy’s benefit or sincere, she crowded closer to him.

“Early this morning the bodies of two hikers, a man and a woman, were found not too far from here,” the deputy informed them grimly.

Rory tensed. Shit, shit, shit.

Octavia gasped in shock. “How horrible!”

“Their names were Kate and Mike Levin. Do you know them?”

“No, but we passed a young couple on the road a few days ago when we arrived,” Rory said as Nina slipped under the crook of his arm. “Could have been them. What happened?”

Plastered against him, she shivered in what appeared to be genuine shock.

“Looks like murder, sir. I would like to ask you some questions, if I may?” The deputy was young, his manners impeccable.

“Of course,” Rory assured him.

Deputy Jones took out a notebook and pen. “Your names? For the record.”

“Richard and Gloria Williams.” According to public record, Rick and Gloria got married a week and a half ago. The IDs were solid. Everything would hold up, if the cops checked.

“And you are here for…?”

“Our honeymoon. Another week, then I have to get back to work.”

The deputy scribbled furiously as he asked them a series of routine questions. Rory had to force himself not to look around and check the area for movement. Nervous tension was mounting inside him. The sensation of someone watching was suddenly overwhelming, as if they had a big bull’s-eye drawn on their backs. Creed was somewhere out there, he was sure of it. Maybe watching them right now.

“I cannot believe they are dead, querido,” Octavia murmured as the deputy closed his notebook. “Murdered, you said?”

“That’s what it looks like, ma’am.”

Rory, keeping up his role as the devoted husband, gently stroked Octavia’s arm. They had jogged quickly back when they’d spotted the police car, and now that they were cooling down, goose bumps spread across her damp skin. In light of their present problem, he refused to be affected by her warm nearness.

“You’re sure it wasn’t some sort of animal that killed them?” he asked. Not that he believed for one second it wasn’t Creed.

“Very sure, Mr. Williams. The bodies—” Jones looked uncomfortably at Octavia, who peered back at him with huge eyes. If she was faking her responses, she was one hell of an actress. “They were killed and then dragged inside their tent. The zipper was closed. We think the killer used the camp as late as last night.”

A prickle of alarm rolled down Rory’s spine. Last night. They had been vulnerable last night—he had not been functioning well at all.

“When were they killed?” he asked, wanting to kick himself for being so distracted. Keeping Nina safe was his fucking job.

“The coroner estimates around thirty-six hours ago,” the deputy said. “It was pretty gruesome, sir. Downright brutal.”

Rory broke down and surreptitiously scanned the area, suddenly realizing such an isolated spot was anything but safe. Not with Creed closing in on them. He tightened his hold on her.

How the hell had Creed found them again, and so soon?

“Madre de dios,” Octavia murmured, and buried her face into Rory’s chest. “Those poor people. I hope you catch the person responsible, deputy.”

“We will, ma’am. For now, I advise you not to go out alone at night, and keep all your doors and windows locked until this monster is caught.” The deputy was all country-boy sincerity.

“Do you have any leads?” Rory asked.

Jones sighed. “Nothing yet. We’re waiting for the CSI techs the sheriff called in from the city.”

“You’ll be patrolling the area, though, I hope?” Rory asked, careful to play his part of the worried husband.

“Yes, sir. The perpetrator has probably moved on already, but if you see anything suspicious, please call the station immediately. We’ll be here ASAP.”

“Gracias, Deputy Jones,” Octavia said, giving the deputy a watery smile. “I feel much better knowing that.”

The poor guy actually blushed, and did a “Shucks, ma’am” tip of his Smokey hat before heading back to the 4x4 sheriff’s vehicle parked in the driveway.

“He was sweet,” Octavia murmured as she settled against Rory once more. After a moment, she said, “So, when did we get married, querido?” Though the question sounded serious enough, he heard a teasing note in her voice.

Over the top of her head, he watched the deputy lean against his car while he talked into the radio.

“The Williamses got married last week,” Rory answered, going along with her affectionate embrace by slipping his arms around her. As if he had done it a million times, he placed his chin on her crown and inhaled her tempting scent. Even though she was tall, they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. It was comfortable holding her like this. Too comfortable.

For his own good, he shouldn’t be standing this close to her, and he knew it. But he didn’t change his hold. Couldn’t.

“That is nice,” she murmured, raising her head from his shoulder. She slid one hand up to his cheek, mesmerizing him with the smile she gave him. “It means we’re still in that stage.” She drew him closer still, until their faces were a scant inch apart.

He shouldn’t allow this. Knew it to the core of his being. But he was fighting a losing battle.

“What stage?” he managed to croak past the sudden tightness in his throat.

“Where we can’t keep our hands off each other.” She brushed her lips over his.

Very much aware of their audience, he had no choice but to participate when she rose on her toes and offered him better access to her pouty lips.

Blood roared in his ears, and he felt heady with instant desire. With their bodies flush together, he had no doubt she could feel his all too obvious response.

She didn’t seem to mind.

The engine of the deputy’s vehicle revving made sanity return. Rory clamped his jaw. Damn, but this woman had a dangerous effect on him.

Ruthlessly and with tremendous effort, he released her and widened the gap between them. But he was still extremely aware of the woman beside him.

They watched the deputy depart, the silence between them charged.

Not good. Standing there out in the open—kissing, no less—with the safe house compromised was just plain stupid.

There was no doubt in his mind it was Creed who had murdered the couple and stayed at their camp afterward. Which meant he could very well have been watching them for days. Their time was up.

He looked down at her and caught the understanding in her eyes. She, too, was well aware of the danger.

Straightening her shoulders, she pulled back and smiled determinedly. “I’ll prepare breakfast, querido. We need to eat, yes?” Without waiting for his response, she turned and headed for the cabin.

Damn it. They would have to leave.

Right away.

One last time, he scanned their surroundings before he followed her inside.

The noose was tightening.

Something needed to be done.

Something drastic.