Wolf Protector (13 page)

Too many times he’d gone out on a date with a curvy woman and seen her skip a normal meal because she was dieting and felt the need to lose the curves god had given her. It made no sense to him. He liked his women with enough meat on them that he could have something to hold on to. He squeezed Erica’s ass. She had the sexiest body. As soon as his brain stopped drooling over it, he’d get her to ride him again.

Erica slid off him, but when she gave him her back and tried to move away, he just pulled her flush against his front and spooned her. She wiggled her butt and fell asleep with his arms around her waist.

Trent woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of soft whimpers. After a moment of intense listening, he realized the cries were coming from Erica. She’d turned toward him at some point in the night. Since she’d warned him about the possibility of a nightmare, it didn’t catch him unawares. She hugged him. His arm pillowed her head. The low lighting from the bathroom allowed him to see her face clearly. Tears fell from the corners of her closed lids. It was hard to watch. Wrapping his other arms around her, he held her close.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he whispered. “It’s alright. I’m here. Relax, love.”

He rubbed her back in what he hoped were soothing motions and kissed her forehead. Her whimpering quieted, but he continued to hold her, unwilling to let go. He stayed that way, with her in his arms, and whispered that all was fine until she relaxed in his hold. Pain had filled his heart when he’d seen her cry in her sleep. It felt good, right, to have her in his arms.

* * *

“So you’re sure the ex is at the police station?” Trent glanced at Erica’s face. She frowned, deep in concentration.

“Yes. Apparently when the father heard that his son was in our list of suspects he wanted the kid cleared and sent junior to answer any questions we have. The kid isn’t very happy we’ve kept him waiting. He promised to call the news stations and every politician his daddy is friends with.” She sighed, turning to look out the window.

Upon nearing the police station, Trent thought about what they needed to ask. Erica had mentioned that she’d know, once she spoke to Derek Holmes for a few minutes, if he was the killer. What he didn’t tell her was that he’d also know if Derek was the killer. All he’d need to do was ask, and if the kid was lying he’d smell it immediately. He had to sit and talk to Erica soon about his shifter abilities.

When they got to the station, he cut off the engine and turned to her. Just before she had a chance to pull the door handle and jump out, he grabbed her, stopping her movement.

She glanced his way, her brows lifted in question.

“I don’t know what you plan to do in there, but I don’t want you doing anything that’s going to make you pass out. Brock and I want you to stay away from anything that will create stress.” He and Brock both felt the need to ensure she didn’t overuse her ability.

She stared at him for a moment. “I’m fine. I rested.”

Trent realized she hadn’t agreed to his request. “Promise there won’t be any John Edwards stuff with you and the kid.”

She chuckled, a low, throaty sound he loved, and shook her head. “There won’t be anything strange with the suspect. I just need to talk to him.”

That was going to have to be enough, because she didn’t seem like she’d offer any other promises. Trent jumped out of the Jeep and followed behind her into the small station. Inside, the same deputy they’d spoken to before waited by the counter. Deputy Owens smiled the moment he saw Erica.

“Ms. Villa, nice to see you again.”

“Deputy Owens.” She shook his offered hand. “We’re here to speak to Derek Holmes.”

One thing he loved about his woman was that she didn’t beat around the bush. She had adopted the professional, profiler look that turned him into a horny teenager. He wondered if he should tell his sister, the psychiatrist, about that. It was probably best that he keep his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was his sister asking him about his emotions and sex life.

“We understand he’s being held somewhere so we can ask him a few questions?” Erica walked around the counter to the open door the deputy held for them.

“That’s right,” Owens answered. He motioned for them to follow him down the hall and stopped in front of a room with a glass window on the door. He unlocked the door, turned the handle, and pushed it open with his palm. Inside the room was a young man, probably in his early twenties, with a medium build and a pretty-boy face. He glowered at the three of them.

“I’m calling the mayor. When my father hears that you’ve kept me locked up without some kind of court order I’m going to sue your asses.” Derek Holmes smirked. He sat back in his seat, shifting so his right arm draped over the chair’s back.

“You haven’t been locked up. Your father said you would cooperate. That’s why you’re here.”

“Yeah, well making me sit in this little room waiting for you people is just as bad as holding me against my will.”

Trent fisted his hands, ready to punch the little snot in the face for the way he was staring at Erica.

“And who are
you
?” Derek asked, his perverted little smile widening while he openly eyed Erica’s body.

“I’m Agent Villa. This is Agent Buchanan.” She pointed at Trent. “We need to ask you a few questions regarding some young women you dated recently.”

Trent watched her move forward, until she stood across the table from where Derek sat. “We’re investigating the deaths of Lisa Summers and Gina Torres.”

“Yeah? I heard they were dead. What does that have to do with me?” He was still eyeing Erica’s boobs with way too much interest. A snarl worked up Trent’s throat. The wolf inside him wanted to come out, chew the little bastard and spit him out.

Trent focused on the job and not breaking the dumbass kid’s jaw.

“I mean I went out with both of them. But after a while I got bored. Young girls get clingy, and I can’t stand that.” Derek winked at Erica.

Erica smiled, a cold little quirk of her lips that showed no amusement. She gripped the edge of the table. “Mr. Holmes, we’ve spoken to your father, and it was made clear to him that this is just a few questions. We can’t hold you here without a formal charge if you don’t want to be here, but we were told you’d be cooperating. I know your father doesn’t want your family name dragged through the media in association with a murder case.  We just need to ask you a few things. I understand this is not the place you would rather be.”

She sounded almost apologetic, but then she pursed her lips, conveying she didn’t really care how much they were bothering him. “But two girls are dead. Two girls
you
dated, Mr. Holmes. Now I suggest you cooperate with us, get yourself cleared, and then you can go back to your busy life.”

“I’ve had nothing to do with them for months.” He straightened.

She leaned forward, placed her hands palms flat on the table, and stared at him  “Mr. Holmes.” Her voice was soft, dripping ice. “I want to find whoever killed these girls. But I do not want to waste my time with someone who’s innocent. Do you understand?”

“What is it you want to know?” he asked in a more serious tone of voice. Although his gaze was still stuck on Erica’s rack, he appeared ready to cooperate. Trent had a hard time not walking up to Derek and bashing in his head.

Trent’s heart took a nosedive when Erica outstretched her hand to shake the kid’s.

She glanced at Trent for just a second, her eyes filled with frustration, before she turned back to Derek.

“I have a few questions. You are one of the few people both girls had in common. So where were you on the night both girls died, Mr. Holmes?”

“I already told your people that I was at a party both times.” He shrugged. “What? I get invited to a lot of parties. I’m a popular guy.”

“I understand that, Mr. Holmes. But you don’t know who could have killed either girl?”

He shook his head. “I’m a busy guy. Once I’m done with them, I move on to bigger and better. They were kind of pissed at me when I broke things off, so I didn’t bother staying friends.”

“We also need to know if there is anyone you may know of who would want to hurt either Lisa or Gina.”

Eric’s smooth cockiness disappeared momentarily while he thought about her question. “I don’t…wait. Gina mentioned a professor who made her feel kind of uncomfortable a time or two when she babysat for him. Some James Green.

“What about Lisa? Did she mention anyone to you?”

“Lisa had Green’s class too at one point last semester, I remember because she gushed about him, but she never actually said she felt uncomfortable. He’s the only one I remember both of them mentioning at one point or another.”

“Mr. Holmes, thank you for your cooperation in this case. You’re free to go. In the future, we’ll direct any questions through your father’s lawyer, who we’ve been told is your representative. But please, if you think of anything else that could be helpful to finding whoever killed these girls, give your sheriff’s office a call or…” She pulled a card out of her pocket. “You can also call me.”

“Oh, OK.” Derek smiled, giving her what was clearly his most charming attempt at smooth and cool. “If you have any other questions you need to ask, you can call me directly. But only you.” He winked at her.

After Derek Holmes walked out of the room, Trent watched Erica sit down and rub a hand over her forehead. She sighed. “He’s not the one.”

Well yeah, he’d known that much when the kid had told the truth, but still. Fuck. When she shook Holmes’s hand and didn’t freak out, he had known for sure. At least they had one suspect less.

Chapter Nine

Erica was still consumed by the strong emotions radiating off Derek Holmes. The kid was more than met the eye, but he was no killer. She saw and sensed that he liked adulation. But only a slight darkness surrounded him, which was minor compared to what she knew lived inside the person they were trying to find.

Her stomach churned painfully at the thought of another day without finding the murderer. He was intent on killing the college girls. Gulping at the knot in her throat, she followed Holmes outside. She looked at the sports car where Derek Holmes slid into the passenger side. He smiled at her before shutting the door. A strange sensation gripped her. She stopped and took a breath, but the air in her lungs evaporated, and the world went askew.

“What the fuck? Erica?” Trent sounded alarmed. He grabbed her by the arms just when her knees gave under her.

“I don’t understand…” She continued to stare at the sports car.

The sun’s glare didn’t allow her to look inside the dark windshield. All she got was a glimpse of Holmes’s smile. She panted, staring at the car as it made a turn, moving away from them and down the street. Could she have been wrong? Was Derek Holmes the killer? The dread that gripped her was one she’d experienced before, when she’d gotten close to a psychopath projecting his darkness outward. Evil could not be contained in some people. But she’d touched Derek and nothing had come across from the victims’ deaths. So what in the world was going on?

It took her a moment to wade through her muddled mix of thoughts and emotions and realize that Trent was talking, asking her if she was all right. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry, I got a little lightheaded for a moment.”

Trent cupped her face, examining her for a minute before helping her into their Jeep. She tried to shut off into herself and dissect what happened, but he wouldn’t be ignored.

“So what happened? I thought we established he wasn’t our man?” He asked while he started the engine.

“I didn’t think so, but when he got into his car I got such a strong connection for a moment there that I now wonder if I was wrong.” She turned to look at his profile while he drove. “Which I can be, Trent. I
can
be wrong, and I might have just let a murderer go home.”

He shook his head and grabbed her hand in his own, taking his eyes off the road for a second to watch her. “He’s not the killer. He didn’t lie to you at any point. We couldn’t have kept him there anyway. We have no proof or evidence, but he is a person of interest. Although a group of girls said that he was with them so he’s got an airtight alibi.”

“But what if I—”

“Stop it. We can only work with what we know. As much as that kid seemed like the biggest jerk in this town, he didn’t come across as a killer to me either.” Trent squeezed her hand in his grasp, killing some of the panic growing inside her. “Take a deep breath, babe. We’ll get him.”

His reassurance melted the ice in her veins. He was right. They would catch that man. He rubbed circles over the top of her hand, each stroke decreasing her tension and increasing her desire to be held by him. Cursing her overactive hormones, she shifted in her seat, staring at his sexy face. She bit her lip. He had that scruffy beard that really turned her on and made her want to lick his face.

When she remembered how she’d woken up in his arms, feeling contented and safe, it once again made her heart jump to her throat. She was so fucked. Trent was quickly working his way past her shields and into territory where no one had ever ventured. How did he do that?

“Erica?” His question snapped her out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“I asked if he could have, like, mentally blocked you from seeing his true nature?” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I don’t really know if he could do something like that, I’m just wondering.”

She could tell it was strange for him to ask those questions, but he didn’t back away. It made her like him even more for it.

She shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t think he could. I’ve been doing this for a really long time. I put up shields to protect my thoughts from anyone tied to the victim. It would drive me insane to feel what each person emotionally linked to them is thinking or feeling when they come near me. I opened myself up when I shook his hand and didn’t feel anything.”

She laughed at Trent’s look of disbelief.

“I don’t mean the guy is an angel, but he’s no murderer. If I’m correct, his worst crime is probably being too loud with some of his girlfriends. The murderer we’re looking for is deeply connected to the victim, and I would feel the link when I meet the killer.” She took a deep breath. “The best way I can explain it is: Killers are linked via energy to the person they killed. There’s a darkness inside them that twines to the energy from the murder victim. When I see the killer, I can see the darkness. Even by just seeing or touching something of his, it would come through. That link between victim and murderer is established, and there’s no breaking it.”