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“We’ve been out of touch.”
“So you real
ly don’t know if she walked in here on her own or if—as her brother suggested—she might have been drugged and brought here.”
“I really don’t know.”
“Thank you, Mr. Reynolds. I see I’m getting about as far with you as I have with the others.” He offered his hand.
Gabe shook it and then turned to leave.
“Oh, Mr. Reynolds?”
“Yes?”
“If you’re going in there to check on Miss Powers, tell her we’ll be ready to interview her in about thirty minutes or so. I have to meet the coroner.”
“Coroner?”
“You didn’t hear?” He cocked his head. “Dons Vance is dead. Apparently he suffered a brutal beating.” He studied him with intense eyes. “Then he was stabbed to death.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“Careful. Around here, you might be. Karma, from what I hear, didn’t waste any time when it came to delivering payback.”
* * * *
The double doors flew back like a gust of strong tornado winds blew them wide open. And just like that, in walked Hurricane Gabe.
He never broke his stride and never paused to look around. In fact, he’d strolled right by her and hadn’t even realized it.
“Where is she?” His rigid body was nothing more than two hundred and ten pounds of hard muscle.
“Behind you,” Justin said, seemingly hesitant to say as much.
Heather trembled where she stood as Gabe slowly faced her. And as soon as he removed his sunglasses, she knew she was in trouble.
“I can explain,” she said, swallowing back a mix of angst and expectation. “I know what you’re thinking but it isn’t how it appears. I heard all the questions they were asking you and everyone else and—”
“Shut the doors,” he grated out in a barely audible voice.
Heather backed up a step and nudged them closed. She was afraid to take her eyes off him or perhaps she didn’t want to lose sight of him, didn’t want to risk looking away and then glancing back again only to find him softer, more approachable.
Fact of the matter was, he gave new meaning to tall, dark, and handsome. He was a beast, a renegade and a rogue. And in that moment, she saw his fear, acknowledged it with an equal amount of true regret. Every apology she owed them, all the heartache she’d caused them now gathered in the center of her chest and threatened to suffocate her.
She had made Gabe into the kind of man who walked the floors at night. She’d made him question whether or not he could protect her. At one time, perhaps, he’d even wondered if he could save her from herself or from those she’d invited into her life blindly, haphazardly.
How many times had he pleaded with her in his emails? Be safe. Choose your friends wisely. Be smart. For me.
Even though they’d never been intimate, she and Gabe had an incredible sensual and intimate long distance relationship. She’d told him her deepest desires, her darkest fantasies, her greatest fears, and so many other things she’d once guarded as secrets.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes watering.
“Sorry?” A guttural grunt fell from his lips. He glanced at Justin and Curt before he studied her with fierce intensity again. “You’re sorry?” He took long strides across the room then, his mighty legs taking a lazy stroll, the kind of steps that made a woman shiver in her stilettos or tremor in her boots. “Sorry is what you say to Justin. Apologies are what you give Curt.” He kicked off his cowboy boots. Then, he unbuttoned his shirt, allowing it to open right down the front. “But me?” He unhooked his belt, released his snap. “I’m looking for an act of contrition.”
Heather was too aware of her bare skin underneath her favorite oversized T-shirt. Her nipples hardened. Her pussy clenched. She wanted, needed, a touch and a kiss, a slip of tongue between her lips, a finger or two between her damp folds.
“Don’t you see? This is what I do—research. I had to find out for myself.” Her voice quivered.
