Outlaw Lawman (14 page)

Almost immediately he drew back his hand. “Dead.”

Caitlyn’s breath swooshed out. She’d hoped this was a false alarm, but no such luck. And she seriously doubted that it was the killer dead on the ground.

No.

This was another victim.

Harlan didn’t touch the rest of the body or the flashlight, but he pushed the button on his phone to illuminate the screen so he could lower it to the face.

Even with the angle and the hat, Caitlyn could see the person’s features, and she staggered back.

God.

Sherry Summers was no longer missing. She was dead.

Chapter Fourteen

Harlan was glad it was close to midnight, because that meant this hellish day would soon be over.

Finally.

There was no way of knowing if tomorrow would be equally hellish, but anything short of death and serious injury would be an improvement.

“Anything new?” Caitlyn asked. She stood in the doorway of his home office sipping a longneck beer that she’d snagged from his fridge.

Nothing new that he wanted to relay to her, so he settled for a grunt that could have meant anything.

She’d showered. He caught a whiff of his soap. Shampoo, too. But they seemed to smell a lot better on her than they’d ever smelled on him.

“It’s my last change of clothes,” she mumbled, glancing down at her jeans and white camisole.

It took Harlan a moment to realize why she’d volunteered that. Because he was looking her over from head to toe. Actually, he was past the looking stage and had progressed to gawking, so he forced himself to glance away. Not that it would help. Her image was branded in his head. Her taste, too.

Heck, plain and simple, he was just branded all over when it came to Caitlyn.

That wasn’t a news flash to either of them. She had yet to step into his office since they’d arrived back at his house. In fact, she’d pretty much avoided getting anywhere near him.

Maybe because she felt as he did. If they touched, the hellish day might come crashing down on them.

Harlan wasn’t sure what the result of the crashing might be—maybe sex or a good falling apart—but the latter seemed a lot to risk with the exhaustion already closing in.

Even though every bone and muscle in his body was yelling for him to get some sleep, he continued to scroll through the reports and emails he was getting about the investigation. Everyone seemed to be in on it. The marshals. Rangers. The locals from Rocky Creek. The governor was even asking questions, because Sherry’s body had been found on state-owned property. So Harlan read them all, not liking much of what he was reading.

Farris was already out of jail on bond. Lots of money and good lawyers could manage that even for a man who should be locked away for life.

Billy was in hospital being treated for a gunshot wound to the arm. It wasn’t serious, but the man had been so shaken up that he’d required some sedation. However, he’d be released soon.

Devin was nowhere to be found, and Curtis had had a major meltdown when he’d seen Sherry’s body. According to his lawyer, Curtis was so distraught, he wouldn’t be able to answer questions for a while.

Caitlyn cleared her throat, grabbing his attention again. “How’d Sherry die?”

Oh, it was going to hurt to say this and hurt even more for her to hear it. “She’d been strangled.”

Caitlyn clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, but not before she made a helpless little sound. Harlan could almost see the memories of Farris’s attack zooming through her head.

“Farris could have done it,” she choked out.

Yeah, Farris could have indeed killed Sherry, and his motive might be all mixed together with his obsession with Caitlyn. “We won’t know for a while, but the ME thinks Sherry could have been dead for days.”

Hell, maybe even weeks, because when Harlan had touched her, she’d felt ice-cold, as if her body had been frozen and then partially thawed. That meant any of their suspects could have killed her at any time, and their alibis were out the window.

“Did Billy happen to say how he knew the body was there?” Still holding the nearly full bottle of beer in her hand, Caitlyn reached down, pulled off her shoes and rubbed her feet. It seemed, well, normal except her hands were trembling.

“He said, but it didn’t make a lot of sense.” Harlan was hoping he could blame that on the sedative Billy had been given. “He claims he was out at Rocky Creek just to look around and maybe talk to the groundskeeper, and then he heard something in the woods and went to have a look. That’s when he found the body.”

“
Claims?
You don’t believe him.”

Harlan had to shrug. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s still a suspect.”

“Along with Devin, Curtis and Farris.” The next sound she made was one of pure frustration.

She bobbled, nearly lost her footing and Harlan stood to catch her. However, Caitlyn waved him off and slid down to a sitting position on the floor. “I’d love to lean on you tonight, but we both know it’d lead straight to the bed.”

Since it had already crossed his mind—many times—he hadn’t expected her
stating the obvious
comment to hit him like a sucker punch. But he actually lost his breath for a moment. Not a very manly reaction, which was weird, because everything else about his reaction was manly times a thousand. His body sure wasn’t going to let him forget that if he pushed this, just a little, he could have Caitlyn in his bed.

Or on his office floor.

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Face it, we’re too tired for sex anyway.”

“No such thing.”

She laughed. It was smoky and thick and laced with the fatigue that had obviously made them both punchy. “What we need is to catch the killer, get some rest and then...go out to dinner or something.”

“I’d prefer the sex. But dinner’s a good start.”

He stood there, watching her and wondering how long it was going to take him to get on the floor with her. But a thought stopped him, and he mentally repeated what she’d just said.

Catch the killer.

The only way that was going to happen was to flush him out.

Caitlyn tilted her head, studied him. “That doesn’t seem like a foreplay kind of look in your eyes.”

“It’s not.” And while it hurt to say that, he saw a glimmer of hope. A way of maybe ending the danger so that he and Caitlyn could, well,
have dinner.

“What are you doing?” she asked when he took out his phone.

“Putting out some bait.”

He called the marshals’ office, and Slade answered. Obviously, Caitlyn and he weren’t the only ones not getting any sleep tonight.

“Nothing to update,” Slade immediately volunteered. “How about you?”

“No, and that’s why I want to shake things up. I need something leaked, but I want it to come from the marshals so it looks official.”

“I can send it from my work computer. What you want leaked?”

“A lie,” Harlan readily admitted. “You okay with that?”

Slade just grunted. “What’s the lie?”

“That the ME found something on Sherry’s body. A partial fingerprint on the back of her neck that’s consistent with the ligature marks from the strangulation that caused her death. And I want you to say that the Rangers are sending someone to the morgue first thing in the morning so the print can be retrieved and processed.”

Slade stayed quiet a moment. “Most people know that it’s hard as hell to retrieve a fingerprint from a body.”

“Hard but not impossible. All I need is for Sherry’s killer to have enough concern that he’ll try to do something to cover up that print.”

And not something that involved Caitlyn and him either. Nor anyone in his family.

“Guess this means you’ll want someone watching the morgue?” Slade clarified.

“Oh, yeah. And I don’t want the ME or anyone else in the building.”

“No one’s over there anyway this time of night. Not even a security guard, but they do have an alarm.”

“Keep it on and have someone in place to watch all entrances and exits before you send out the leak. You got the manpower for that?”

“I can find it.” Slade didn’t hesitate. “I’ll call you when I have something.”

Caitlyn got to her feet and scrubbed her hand down the side of her jeans. “If it’s Farris, he’ll hire someone to destroy the evidence.”

Harlan agreed. Billy likely would, too. And that left Devin and Curtis. He didn’t know them well, but if they were behind these deaths, he doubted either would want evidence to convict them.

Of course, even if they managed to make an arrest, it still meant unraveling all the threatening notes, Farris’s computer-hacking adventures, Tiffany’s car accident, their own kidnapping and the shootings.

“What now?” Caitlyn asked.

“Now we wait.” Harlan checked the time. “You should get some rest,” he reminded her again. Reminded himself, too.

But he didn’t move. Couldn’t. And he swore that someone had cemented his feet to the floor.

“Do we really want to do this?” she asked, her voice all warm and breathy.

Since he was a guy, his body wasn’t going to let him think long and hard about a question like that. So he just jumped right into the mistake they’d be making no matter how much thought he gave it.

Harlan reached out, hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. The problem was she didn’t even put up a token resistance or offer any other questions that might force him to think. Then he kissed her and forgot all about questions and common sense. Forgot all about the other things he should be doing.

Hell, he forgot how to breathe.

Everything hit him at once. The feel of her in his arms. The way she fit against his body. Her taste. Yeah, especially that. Some women just tasted good, and Caitlyn tasted better than good.

She made a little purring sound deep in her throat that stalled his breath, and she coiled her arms around him. Soon they were plastered against each other. Until his body started to remind him just how much better this kiss would be if he stripped off Caitlyn’s clothes and kissed every inch of her body.

Caitlyn clearly had the same idea, because she went after his shirt. And she wasn’t very good at it. She tugged, pulled, catching his chest hair. It didn’t cool him down one bit, and he finally let go of her for just a second so he could shuck the shirt off over his head.

Her eyes lit up, she smiled and she looked at his chest as if she planned to have him for dinner. Harlan figured he was looking at her the same darn way.

While she kissed his chest, touched him and generally made him hot and crazy, Harlan rid her of her own top. Her bra was lace and white. Barely there. But it was too much between them, so he quickly rid her of it and did some payback. He dropped lower and kissed her breasts.

A lot.

“Yes,” she mumbled. “And so help me, you’d better not call this off when your conscience kicks in.”

He lifted his head so he could give her a flat look, took her hand and pressed it to the front of his jeans. “Does it feel like I’ll call it off?”

Her next smile had a touch of the devil in it. “No.” She shoved down his zipper and put her hand inside. Not just inside his jeans either. She might have fumbled with the shirt, but she found her way into his boxers without a problem and latched on to his erection.

Harlan was sure his eyes crossed.

“Hell,” he muttered. And while he could still walk, he scooped her up and headed for his bedroom.

“Not up for sex on the floor?” she teased. Tormented, too, because while his hands were occupied with carrying her, she kept touching him. Kept driving him crazy. Until he dropped her onto the bed, yanked off his boots and settled on top of her.

Harlan grabbed her jeans and pulled them off. Panties, too. He saw the tiny white scars on her belly and some letters tattooed on her left hip.

She followed his gaze to what had snagged his attention. “I had navel rings. Relics from my wild-child days.”

Now all hidden away for him to rediscover. That sent a rush of fire through him, but he stopped when he looked at the letters again.

H. M.

“Harlan McKinney,” she provided.

“You had my initials tattooed on your body?” He felt his mouth drop open.

“Hey, a girl’s first time is a big deal, and I didn’t have enough money to put your whole name there.”

He was touched. And sad that she’d obviously thought so much of him.

“No trips down memory lane,” she insisted, and kissed him so hard and deep that memory lane vanished.

Harlan kissed her right back. Not just her mouth either. But her breasts again. Her belly. Yeah, the tat. Before he went even lower and kissed her in the hottest, wettest part of her body.

“We didn’t do this at Rocky Creek.” She made a sound of pleasure and wound one hand into his hair. Her other hand clamped onto the bedding as if she was trying to anchor herself.

“We didn’t do a lot of things.”

Like go back for seconds, something that Harlan thought he might like to do tonight, especially since it was clear that this wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he wanted.

“I want you naked,” he heard her say a split second before she gave his hair a yank.

That got him moving up her body again. Caitlyn used her hands and feet to slide off his jeans and boxers, and even with all that moving around and adjusting, she still managed to get in some pretty potent kisses. She also pulled him on top of her.

Exactly where he wanted to be.

But thankfully all his common sense wasn’t gone, because he fumbled in the nightstand drawer, located a condom and somehow managed to get the darn thing on even with Caitlyn pulling and tugging at him.

“No virgin surprises this time,” he heard her whisper.

But the jolt was still there when he pushed inside her. Pure pleasure. There went his breath again, and he didn’t care if he ever got it back. The only thing that mattered now was moving inside her and finding the release for the powder keg of pressure roaring through every inch of him.

Caitlyn was clearly on the same page when it came to pressure and release. She lifted her hips. Dug her fingers into his back. And met him thrust for thrust.

He felt the climax ripple through her body. Saw it, too, in the depths of her crystal-blue eyes. Heard it in her uneven breath. She mumbled something.

His name, he realized.

With his name still shaping her lips, she pulled him down to her. And kissed him.

Harlan returned the kiss. Hard and deep. And with Caitlyn’s taste in his mouth, he let her take him to the only place he wanted to go.

* * *

C
AITLYN
WONDERED
WHY
she was still so wide-awake when she desperately needed sleep. She’d dozed on and off, but that was about it.