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“And I’m not letting you go again. Ever.”
She drew back and cupped his face in her hands. “I’m holding you to that.”
His smile was more feral than relieved.
The building was alighted with flames as McLean stood guard and Riley ran to her cruiser to call for backup and fire crews.
She hugged him again, using his strength to steady the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Finally, when she caught her breath, she looked up into eyes that glistened with tears. “He killed Kara.”
Sharp cupped her face. “He actually admitted that?”
“Yes. He also killed Diane and Elena.”
“Jesus.” He pulled her into his arms again.
“I love you. I don’t know if you want to give us a second chance or not, but I love you. It’s all I thought about in there.”
He threaded his fingers again through her hair, fisting the short pieces in his hand. “I’ve always loved you. Too much maybe. I’m never letting you go again.”
She smiled. “Good.”
EPILOGUE
Five weeks later
Sharp didn’t bring flowers for his sister.
He wondered if that was a mistake as he knelt in front of his sister’s fresh grave. He’d had her body exhumed, and they’d found the doll buried beside her. Tessa and Dr. Kincaid had been the ones to examine her and remove the doll cradled at her side before putting her back in the ground next to her parents.
“Kara, I thought about bringing flowers,” he said. “I hear girls like them. But I never pictured you with an armload of daisies or roses.”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. “Remember how we used to play gin? God, I hated that game, but you loved it.” Shit, the hours he’d sat listening to her prattle as they’d traded cards. He laid the deck on her grave. “Thought the cards were more fitting. Tessa told me she put a pack in your hands.”
He brushed dead leaves aside. “I just wanted you to know we got him. He’s dead. And if there’s any justice, he’s burning in hell now.”
Norman DeLuca. He’d been there all along. Standing at the funeral of Kara. And then at Terrance’s funeral, his eyes moist with what looked like genuine sadness and regret.
Sharp suspected DeLuca had said the truth when he told Tessa he’d not meant to kill Terrance. He’d not expected to see Terrance standing in that alley, and when the kid got a glimpse of his face, he really believed he had no choice. If the kid had talked, Diane would have been found and his secret, his creation, discovered.
A search of DeLuca’s home found a box of grisly photos of all the women he’d killed. There’d been a few pictures of Elena during her transition. Her face was so raw and red and layered in tattoos. There had been multiple pictures of Diane before, during, and after her change. And the other women who fit the homicide reports of several prostitutes in the Denver area. Their files had been pulled, and a look at their autopsy photos showed that DeLuca hadn’t perfected his gruesome skills. On these women, he’d not only practiced on their faces but on their backs and legs as well. One woman’s entire chest and back were covered in permanent ink.
At the bottom of the box of pictures were images of Kara taken during the days she’d been missing before she was found dead. He’d applied and reapplied makeup to her several times and propped her in a chair, holding a doll. There was no telling if she was alive or heavily drugged during those grim photo sessions.
DeLuca’s secrets had been peeled back layer by layer, photo by photo.
Sharp learned that DeLuca’s identity had been stolen from a young infant who’d died in Alaska the same year Robbie Knox had been born. When Robbie Knox “died” and became DeLuca, his father put him into a mental hospital in Virginia, where he was treated for six years. By the time he moved to Virginia to live near his father, Robbie Knox had long been forgotten.
It still twisted Sharp’s gut to know that DeLuca had held his sister for days. He woke up often in the night, unable to sleep, forced to pace and battle regrets. To know she might have been found if Knox hadn’t been hiding his own secrets.
Sharp’s only bit of solace was that she didn’t realize what was happening due to the heavy sedation. Or, at least, that was the hope that kept him sane.
And, of course, Tessa was there to wrap her arms around him and coax him back to bed. When he didn’t feel like talking, she didn’t press; when he did, she sat and silently listened.
Sharp removed a flask from his pocket and held it up to Roger’s gravestone. “I should have toasted you at your funeral. You were right all these years.” He took a long swig, grimacing as the whiskey burned his throat. He turned to his mother’s grave. “Mom, I did bring you a flower. I remember how you liked them.” He laid a single rose on her grave. “Take care of them, Mom.”
He rose, staring at the three headstones, taking some comfort in the fact that they were together.
When he turned, he saw Tessa leaning against his car. Her short hair was loose, now styled into a layered cut that suited her. The doctors had removed the cast from her wrist, and her bruises had healed.
She stared at him with such understanding and longing, it took his breath away. “You okay?”
Leaves rustled under his feet as he moved toward her. She opened her arms, and he stepped into the embrace. For a long moment, he simply breathed in her scent.
“Are you okay?” she repeated.
“I never felt I had the right to be okay,” he said. “Kara was dead, and I just didn’t deserve any happiness.”
She tightened her hold. “Dakota, she wouldn’t want that for you.”
“I know. But I couldn’t shake the feeling.”
“And now?”
“I can finally say I’m okay. It’s done.” He raised his gaze and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close.
He cupped her face in his hands, and when he broke the kiss, he felt a sense of renewal. She’d moved into his town house nearly three weeks ago, and he was getting used to accepting that he was not alone anymore.
“Let’s go home,” she said.
Sharp took her left hand in his and from his coat pocket removed a diamond ring. He slid it on her finger until it pushed against her wedding band. “Not the biggest in terms of carats, and I’m sure there are some rings that sparkle brighter, but—”
“But nothing,” she
said, snatching her hand back so she could admire the ring. “It is stunning.”
Flickers of doubt shadowed his eyes. “You sure? I can get another.”
“No,” she said, hugging him. “No. It’s perfect.”
“I love you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion as he held her tight.
She kissed him on the lips. “And I love you too, Agent Sharp.”
“Marry me.”
“We are married.”
“Let’s do it right this time. With friends. Make it a celebration.”
She hugged him. “I’ll marry you as many times as you ask, Dakota Sharp.”
His lips broadened into a wide grin, and he kissed her again.
