Jesse wandered to the driver’s side of the truck. Annabel caught a glimpse of the driver. He wasn’t Dylan Morris. “My wife and I are having some trouble remembering which is the way to Granite Gulch. Can you point us in the right direction?”
The man gave them a funny look but indicated turning to the left out of the parking lot. Jesse thanked him, and they hurried back to the car.
“I can’t believe you did that! What if it had been Dylan?” Annabel asked.
“Then it would have been better for you to stay in the car. Dylan and I are not on great terms, but he wouldn’t take a shot at me.”
Annabel shivered. “Next time, we discuss the plan first.”
“I was afraid they’d leave, and we’d miss our chance to find him. We drove out here, and I hate to return empty-handed.”
The night hadn’t been wasted. She’d had fun with Jesse. She moved closer to his seat and touched his arm. “Thank you for tonight. You don’t have to do this for me.”
Jesse grinned at her. “Sure I do. I’m a gentleman.”
As they drove to Granite Gulch, Jesse turned on the radio. It played softly in the car, but Annabel didn’t need music at all. The roads were quiet, and the sky was beautiful and she was with Jesse.
They were about five minutes from Willard’s Farm when important questions sprang to mind. Would she spend the night with Jesse? She didn’t want to overstay her welcome, but going inside with Jesse held some interesting possibilities. Was their adventure that afternoon a one-time fling? Could it be more?
She wanted the answer to be yes, but what they had was limited by time and depth. Her brothers would only see him as Regina Willard’s brother, and she had to maintain professional distance from him to remain objective about the case. Her ties to the investigation via her father were a definite gray area, and she couldn’t complicate matters.
“I need to know something, and I’d like a straight answer from you,” Jesse said.
The seriousness in his voice was different enough from his playful tone that she took note.
“I try to be straightforward with you,” Annabel said.
“I know. Given that and what happened between us, I feel like I can ask you this question. What has my sister done that convinces you she’s the person you’re looking for? Why do you believe she is the Alphabet Killer?”
A dozen answers sprang to mind. Regina’s letters to Matthew Colton. Her abandoned boarding room in Rosewood. The connection between her job at the diner and her victims—those credit card receipts were terribly damning. Annabel wasn’t sure how many details of the case were public. Speculation and rumors were rampant, but as a member of the Granite Gulch Police Department, it was her job to uphold the integrity of the investigation.
She checked every word before she spoke it. “The FBI crime lab has authenticated the letters from Regina to Matthew Colton came from her. In those letters, she strongly implicates herself.” Regina hadn’t written outright that she planned to kill anyone, but she had included details that tied her to the killings.
“How do you know Matthew Colton isn’t playing a game? He could have fabricated those letters or tricked Regina into writing them and then provided it to the FBI out of context. From what I hear, he’s pretty twisted.”
It had been a long time since a negative comment about her father hurt her, but hearing Jesse say it, it burned like an old injury that ached when it rained. “That could be true. Matthew Colton has time, the intelligence and the means to toy with the people around him.” But the FBI crime lab was certain the letters had been sent from outside the prison to Matthew. The prison logged incoming inmate mail and had records of Regina’s letters with dates and times of arrival.
“Here’s where I can’t make the connection. Regina was good to me growing up. We didn’t live together long, and I will always regret that she was left with our father, but you have to understand what she did for me. She protected me. From my father and from bullies in the neighborhood who made fun of us because we were poor and our clothes were too small and our shoes worn through. Regina was my one ally. She is the one person who knows what we went through and how hard it was.”
Annabel’s chest ached. The parallels in their story were striking. She often felt her brothers were the only people capable of understanding how it felt to be the child of a serial killer. “I’m sorry, Jesse. I know those memories must be precious to you, and I don’t want to say anything to take them away. Even if Regina has changed, if she is someone else now, that doesn’t mean she wasn’t a good sister to you then.”
“Is that how you feel about your father? He was a good father to you even though he killed all those people?”
Jesse didn’t pull punches. Annabel felt herself struggling with her emotions. What she felt for Jesse was new and fresh and felt good, and talking about her father brought the opposite emotions. They collided inside her in a potent cocktail. “I do not think Matthew Colton was a good father. I do not think he is a good man. I don’t know how someone can be so dark and twisted to do what he did, even though he had to realize the consequences. He hurt people without caring about their feelings. I remember a man who could be kind and sweet one minute and vicious and cruel the next. I think those sweet moments were manipulative, completely without sincerity. I have no good memories of my father. Not a single one that makes me feel sorry for him or wish he was in my life. Matthew Colton is a bad man, and I accepted it long ago.”
Jesse pulled into the driveway leading to his house. He reached across and took Annabel’s hand. “I’m sorry you’ve had to live with that. I can’t imagine, as young as you were, how you coped.”
She had been in denial after her mother had died. It had been difficult to accept her new reality, and nearly impossible to acknowledge her father was responsible. Annabel kept to the facts, the way Mama Jean had. Gently and kindly, but the facts without opinion and hearsay were easiest to understand. “There’s something else I am reluctant to tell you about Regina.”
“Why reluctant?”
“It’s part of an ongoing investigation, and I care about your feelings.”
“You don’t have to spare my feelings. Tell me. Help me understand what makes you certain my sister is a monster.”
He sounded angry, and Annabel didn’t blame him. She couldn’t guess Jesse’s reaction. She didn’t want to hurt him, but wasn’t the pain inevitable? “The other day, my partner and I were called to assist with a reported crime. The victim had been attacked by the Alphabet Killer.”
Jesse parked the car and turned off the motor and the lights. He faced Annabel, watching her, listening intently. At least she had that.
“The victim’s first name began with G. She is the seventh victim of the Alphabet Killer who we know about. She was shot twice in the head and marked with the killer’s signature. She was taken to Blackthorn County General, and we met her there to speak with her about what happened.”
The next part was the hardest to say. “She identified Regina Willard as her attacker.”
Several long beats passed. Annabel wouldn’t fill the silence with nonsense. It was a lot for Jesse to take in.
“What happened to the woman?” Jesse asked. His voice was gravelly and the emotion raw and almost hard to hear.
“She did not survive the surgery.” Whether it had taken too long to get to Blackthorn County General or her wounds were too great, Annabel didn’t know. She had not been privy to the medical examiner’s autopsy report. The last Annabel had heard, the FBI had confirmed Gwendolyn was a victim of the Alphabet Killer. The ballistics, the trace evidence and the methods fit.
Jesse turned away from her and looked straight out the front windshield. He said nothing, and his expression was unreadable. Annabel remembered what she had needed when her mother had died. She had needed a friend. Her brothers and sister had been taken from her, and she had needed someone to stay by her side. Words weren’t as important. It had been nice to have someone around.
Jesse climbed out of the car. He circled to the passenger’s side and opened it. He took her hand and helped her out onto the driveway. Though he was silent, she wasn’t afraid. He was letting her know that he, too, needed a friend.
Hand in hand, they walked into the house. He greeted his dogs, fed them and poured food in the cat’s bowl, as well. Then Jesse lifted Annabel into his arms and carried her up the stairs.
“Stay with me,” he said. “I won’t ask anything more of you. Just stay with me. I don’t want to be alone tonight.” His voice cracked, betraying the emotion swirling beneath.
Annabel hugged him. “I can do that.”
She kicked off her shoes, and they lay together in the middle of his bed, their hands clasped together, staring at the ceiling.
Several hours passed. Though he barely moved, Jesse wasn’t asleep.
“You must think I’m disgusting,” he finally said.
His words were raw; they chafed her to the core. She remembered those same feelings. She had felt like less of a person because she was Matthew Colton’s daughter. She had considered changing her last name, perhaps taking her mother’s maiden name as her own, but she worried her siblings wouldn’t find her. In the end, she had made good on being a Colton. She liked to think she had brought some honor back to the name. “Being the relative of a murderer does not reflect on you. I’ve studied criminology. I’ve studied criminal cases. People go off the rails. They make bad decisions, and they can’t find their way back to good. They are consumed by anger and jealousy and greed, and it blights out everything right inside them. That doesn’t mean anything about the family.”
“You saw her victims. You saw what she did to them. Seven people. Seven deaths and I don’t understand why. What good does it do to kill someone?”
It served no purpose. But Regina had something dark inside her, demons she couldn’t excise. “She has her reasons even if they only make sense to her. She carries a lot of rage with her.” Her letters to Matthew Colton had contained blame and anger for everyone in her life, for what they had done and what they had failed to do for her.
“You must think I’m an idiot for not seeing it. Or worse, you think it reflects on me.”
He wouldn’t make eye contact. Even in the dark, with the light of the moon shining through the windows of his bedroom, Annabel could read the devastation on his face. “Look at me. What do you see in my eyes?”
Jesse looked at her. Green eyes met blue ones. “You look sad.”
“Sad because I’ve been where you are and I know it’s hard. It feels terrible. Coming to terms with this and fully accepting it will take time. When you think of me, do you think of my father?”
He shook his head. “Only when you bring him up.”
“My brothers and I are running as fast as we can to distance ourselves from that legacy. We’re trying to prove we’re more than Matthew Colton. We’re not killers. We’re not cold and soulless. We care about people.”
“You’re one of the warmest women I’ve ever known.”
“Yet my father was one of the most brutal killers in Granite Gulch’s recorded history. Maybe one of the most brutal killers who’s lived in Texas.”
“I don’t know what to do now.”
“Let me hold you. Let me show you that I care for you,” Annabel said.
A tear slipped down his cheek, and he lifted his mouth to hers and kissed her. He was seeking a connection, and she would give it to him. She would be everything he needed tonight.
“Are you okay knowing Regina is a killer?” Jesse asked.
“I’ve suspected her since before we met. It hasn’t stopped how I feel about you.”
“How is that?” Jesse asked, brushing his hand down her hair.
“I like you. You’re fun and sweet. I miss you when we’re not together.”
He kissed her softly on the lips. “I feel lost.”
“Then let me be your guide. Let me show you there’s a way out of this dark time.”
Jesse kissed her again. “I feel desperate and exposed.”
“You don’t have to hide anything from me. You don’t have to pretend to be anyone you’re not. Let me make you feel good.”
She accepted Jesse as he was. He was a good man, and she liked him. His hurt and grief were potent, and she wanted to comfort him.
Jesse moved over her, bracing his weight on his arms, and kissed her. She tasted his hunger and his desperation to have her, to have her on his side fully and completely.
Annabel closed her eyes, and he kissed each of her eyelids, then her mouth and lower to the top of her dress. He pulled the fabric to the side, trailing kisses along her collarbone. She arched underneath him, wanting to let him set the pace. His mouth turned her on and going slow was hard. Tonight would be about him and letting him take and have what he needed.
He cupped her breast and squeezed lightly. She had always wanted to be more endowed in that area, but Jesse seemed plenty fascinated, his gaze lingering on her bra a few minutes before he pulled the fabric cups down and sucked one pert tip into his mouth, his hand massaging the other. Then he switched sides and excitement jolted through her. Annabel stroked his hair, running her fingers through the soft strands.
He let out a growl when the top of her dress would not give further. She sat and peeled it over her head, tossing it to the ground.
Half-naked before him, she wrapped her arms over her chest, feeling self-conscious. Earlier he had touched every inch of her in the shower, and she had felt amazing and sexy and bold. Now, they had a deep and meaningful connection, impossible to deny.
He took her arms and gently uncrossed them. “Don’t. You’re lovely. Every part of you, inside and out.”
Had anyone called her lovely before? As a teenager, she had been in survival mode, defensive and hostile. When she had worked as a park ranger and then as a cop, she downplayed her femininity, knowing she would gain more respect from her peers and her brothers if she came across as hard and uncaring about her appearance.
Jesse made her feel feminine but also powerful. It was a sensation she enjoyed.
He covered her body with his, and she set to work on his shirt, unbuttoning the row down the front of the blue plaid, pushing it to the side to reveal the roped muscles beneath. Tanned skin and hard plains tapered to a ripped stomach.
Peeling the shirt over his shoulders, she reveled in his bare skin pressed to hers. He kissed her until she was mindless and dizzy, and then he reached between her legs, moving aside the fabric of her underwear, and slipped his fingers inside. She was tender and swollen from the afternoon in his arms, but the wetter she became, the easier his fingers slid between her folds, raising her anticipation.
He stared for a long moment at her. “Wow.” The tone was filled with awe. He hooked his thumbs around her underwear and drew them down her legs. He dropped them and slid her to the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side of the mattress.
He set his hands on her knees, prodding her to open her legs wide.
She was suddenly nervous. They had done this before, and she had no reason to be, yet, this felt like so much.
“Relax,” he said. He parted her thighs and brought his head between them.
His breath blew over her, and he stroked her inner thighs.
“You don’t have to...” Her thoughts flew out of her head as his tongue pressed into her. His hands held her thighs open, and the heat of his mouth felt incredible. He tongued her, and within moments her entire body was engaged in what he was doing and loving it.
He was amazing at this. The right pressure and the motion, the steady pace, building her higher and higher. Her hips thrashed, and she wanted release, but she wanted him inside her when she finished.
“I can’t come yet,” she said.
He didn’t respond and continued his assault. When completion washed over her, he slowed down and shifted her legs onto the bed. He drew the covers away and slid a pillow under her head.
Removing his pants, he climbed into bed with her. Spooning his body against hers, she felt his arousal between her thighs, but he made no motion to push inside her.
His hands brushed against her breasts, and he kissed the back of her neck.
She lifted her leg to give him access and found him long and hard, moving against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
“Wait, wait,” he said. He reached behind him and pulled a condom from his night table. She heard the tearing of packaging and then the crinkle of the condom being rolled on.
She caught him in her hand and guided him toward her entrance. He pressed against her, his size impressive. Relaxing her muscles, her wetness gave him better access. Several thrusts and he was inside. Shifting her hips, she took him deeper, deeper, until she felt stretched and full.
He rocked his hips, working his length in and out. She controlled the depth of his pumps, her body oversensitive, the nerve endings between her legs tingling and hyperaware of every brush of his skin against hers.
Without pulling away, he lifted her onto her knees. He brushed her hair over her shoulder so he could see her face. Then he seated his body fully into hers. The angle and position made him feel bigger.
He moved slowly at first, holding her hips and using them for leverage. His thrusts were more insistent, and he reached between her legs to rub the bundle of nerves at her core. He moved like a piston, sinking inside her and pulling away, the friction amazing and the look on his face intense.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled lightly, her body accepting him as part of her, riding her hard.
Another orgasm crept over her and exploded around her before she could warn him.
He seemed utterly pleased with himself as he withdrew and turned her onto her back. “More?” he asked.
How was he still going? Her body felt tingly and relaxed. “Yes.” She would take everything he had to give her. This had been about making him feel good and showing him she accepted him and everything about him, but she was having the best sex of her life.
He slid into her with swift precision. He palmed her breasts and surged hard. His hips snapped faster. He was close. She lifted her hands over her head and moaned. Everything felt good.
With a satisfied roar, he slammed inside her as he climaxed. He was panting and he buried his head in her neck, kissing her languidly.
As their heart rates returned to normal, he rolled to the side.
After several beats, he sat. “Give me a minute.”
He went into the bathroom and returned, strutting naked across the room, the moonlight accentuating his muscled body, hard and primed from long days in the sun.
He slipped into bed next to her and slid his arm around her waist. Nuzzling her neck, he made a sound of satisfaction.
Annabel pulled the sheet over them, putting one of her legs between his and closing her eyes.
Jesse’s even, deep breathing gave away he was asleep. Sex had had a sedative effect on him. Though her body felt tired, her brain was running too fast.
Sex with Jesse had been mind-blowing. She didn’t realize sex could be that good. Was this the type of connection they’d found with their significant others? She could see herself falling for Jesse, and she could see wanting more time with him. How could she sleep with him and walk away in the morning? She felt as if she had launched herself off an emotional cliff, and she was counting on Jesse to catch her.
Bliss gave way to darker thoughts. They crept over her and took hold. Her father had not believed she or her brothers were worth anything. He hadn’t cared that his actions had torn apart their family. Her mother had died at his murderous hands. Her beloved foster mother, Mama Jean, had died of a heart aneurysm. Her brothers had been taken from her, and though they’d later reunited, their relationship had suffered from many years apart. They didn’t accept her for who she was and believed she couldn’t hack it as a police officer. Her sister, Josie, had disappeared.
Everyone in her life who was close to her was either taken from her or had suffered.
The past couldn’t dictate the future, but it was a good predictor of what was to be.
Annabel rolled to look at Jesse. He was devastatingly handsome, charmingly rugged, and she was falling for him. The day he had swaggered into the police station, she had lost a piece of her heart to him.
Jesse seemed to accept his sister was the Alphabet Killer, but Annabel knew firsthand, when the information fully penetrated, he would struggle with it. He would have to find a new reality, a new way of living with that terrible information dangling over him, following him all this life.
He may do reckless things. Turn people out of his life. Shut down emotionally.
Annabel ran her hand down his beautiful face. Was she strong enough to go through this with him? Was she strong enough to hold on through the inevitable ups and downs?
History indicated she was not. She had not forgiven her father, and she still had a chip on her shoulder about her brothers. She was angry with Josie for running away and blocking her from her life.
What would she tell Chief Murray? That she had decided to shack up with the brother of the prime suspect in the Alphabet Killer murders? Her brothers would be livid when they found out.
Annabel was not capable of handling this. She could be there for Jesse now, but the case was building against his sister, and Regina would make a mistake and be found. Everyone in Texas was looking for her. When she was captured and charged, it would tear her and Jesse apart.
Her relationship with Jesse, which had seemed shiny and bright only a short time ago, was doomed to fail and leave them both with terrible scars. It was too good now. The only place the relationship could go was down.
Annabel would end it first, before she became more involved, before either of them got hurt.
Annabel climbed out of bed on silent feet and found her clothes in the dark. If Jesse woke, what would she say? Thank him for the great sex and then run? She texted Mia that she needed a ride.
She dressed and then hurried out of the house. She raced down the driveway. Feeling like a coward, but knowing she was doing everything she could to protect herself, she didn’t look back.