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Not if. When. I will catch this bastard.
Studying the photo of the supposed murder weapon has me restudying the case for so long that I don’t even realize how much time has passed until there’s a knock on my door.
Fuck me.
It’s already been thirty minutes, and I’ve been staring at a case instead of showering off the day’s stench.
I jog to the door, internally cursing myself the whole time. When I swing open the door, a flurry of dark hair is all I glimpse before Lana is on me, her lips crashing against mine.
I sure as hell don’t protest as I drink her in, tasting her, smelling how incredible… Ah hell.
Reluctantly, I break the kiss, and she steps back, grinning at me. I love that smile and how freely she gives it.
“I smell like shit.”
She laughs while shaking her head. “You smell like… I don’t know what that smell is to be honest.”
“Helicopter. I’ll run through the shower, and we will pick this back up where we left off. Make yourself comfortable. I won’t take long.”
“I don’t mind the smell,” she says, biting that damn lower lip that has my cock protesting my hygienic needs.
“Five minutes. That’s all I’ll take.”
She bats those long lashes, her grin spreading as she looks around my house, taking in all the sights. My gun is on top of the living room table, and she sidesteps it like it makes her uncomfortable.
“Safety is on,” I tell her, winking before I jog to my bathroom and hurry through the motions of showering.
I toss on a pair of boxers after I finish drying off, and I head back out to find Lana at the kitchen island, looking over the Boogeyman case.
“This is brutal,” she says, looking up at me with a frown. “Is this the guy you caught?”
“That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left that out. You’re not supposed to see that.”
She frowns.
“Closed case files aren’t as classified. Or at least that’s what I’ve read.”
“Old closed cases aren’t classified. Recent ones are. But this isn’t even a closed case. It’s an active investigation that I should handle with more care than just leaving haphazardly lying around.”
Her lips tense as she takes a long step away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I just saw it and…I shouldn’t have just started reading it. Sorry.”
I shrug, pulling her to me by the waist, just needing to touch her. I had no idea how much I needed to touch her until she got here.
“Like I said, that’s my fault. But since you’ve seen it, how about giving me your opinion.”
Her eyebrows go up.
“My opinion? My opinion is that guy is sick. Women being raped and left to bleed out slowly by multiple stab wounds is vicious and… Anyway. That’s my opinion.”
“I meant your opinion about the type of suspect we might be looking for.”
She purses her lips.
“I barely glimpsed it.”
I pull her over to the file, and I spread out the sheets, including the new picture on my phone that I show her.
