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Every mile I grow angrier and angrier, but it isn’t until I stop for gas and look at the information that Tabatha sent that I hate a part of myself as well.
I stare down at the driver’s license photo, my skin growing damp, more with shame and fear than from the hot New Mexico sun.
The face of Sawyer Maddox looks back at me, unable to hide a smirk from his lips even in his state-issued license photo.
It’s the same look I got when I pinched my nipple at his command a week ago.
I was in bed with a murderer. I left the gym and went to a hotel with the same man who is last known to be seen with Elizabeth Burr before her death.
My hand begins to tremble at the realization that I could’ve been next. Bile threatens to spill from my lips as it inches up my throat, the burn of it just one more punishment deserved from the mistakes I’ve made.
He saw my gun and badge, but I ignored the way he cocked an eyebrow when I placed them on the bedside table. He never asked about them. Was it because he was well aware of who I was?
How could he have known I was going to be assigned to her case?
“Oh God,” I hiss, covering my mouth with my hand.
I was with this man when I got the call. The things we did together now disgust me.
The tremble in my hands doesn’t settle as I pull away from the gas station.
We used a condom that night.
Elizabeth was raped, and the man wore a condom.
The logical part of my brain tries to tell me that most responsible men use condoms, and rapists use them to prevent detection and identification. You can’t keep being a criminal if you get caught.
For Elizabeth, it means there’s no semen. The perp didn’t leave the used prophylactic behind, and we’re still waiting for the lab to see if there were other biologicals left on her body and clothes.
My skin crawls at the thought of the way he played my body, at how commanding he was and not shy to tell me what he wanted, his ability to predict what I needed from him.
By the time I reach the edge of the National Forest, I’m ready to not only arrest him but bury him under the damn jail. I’m wishing the death penalty hadn’t been outlawed as I pull up to the camp Tabatha texted the club was renting for the weekend.
The arrival of my car draws attention, and I want to scream at the people gathering at the sight of me. My weapon and badge are clearly visible, so they have to be aware of who I am.
As mad as I am, I’m not foolish enough to think it will protect me. I have no doubt I’ll get pushback from this group, and Colorado law protects and allows anyone licensed to carry a firearm in the park, with the exception of the actual park ranger station.
I seek out Colton, grateful when he comes closer on his own, praying he understands that I have to do my job.
“Lennox?” he asks, his brow scrunched tight as he approaches.
I watch over his shoulder, wondering how many people here know the truth when the women start to cling to the men as if they knew this day was coming.
“What’s going on?”
I look at Colton, wondering if sharing any information with him is smart.
“Why do they all seem a little freaked out?” I ask, my voice barely capable of hiding a growl.
Colton looks over his shoulder. “The last time a cop showed up out of the blue, it was to notify them of Lana Cobreski’s death.”
I cringe. I worked patrol that night. Car accidents are always hard, but finding out the woman was married and had a very young daughter was gut wrenching. I’m all too familiar with how an unexpected death can ruin a family.
I shake my head, clearing those thoughts.
“I’m here to make an arrest,” I tell him, holding up the folder, despite it not having any printed information in it. “Sawyer Maddox raped and killed Elizabeth Burr.”
“The fuck he did,” Colton snaps.
“I’ll have to ask you not to interfere, Mr. Matthews,” I say, locking eyes with him.
“Lennox, he didn’t—”
“Detective Maison,” I snap, feeling like a complete asshole for butting heads with a man who taught me everything I needed to do this job properly. “According to an eyewitness, he was the last to see her alive.”
“That’s not enough evidence, Detective, and you damn well know it.”
“I’ll have to place you under arrest if you try to impede my investigation, Mr. Matthews.”
His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t speak.
I walk past him, shoving the folder under my arm as I get closer to the camp, wondering just how much of this he planned as the man gives me a reluctant grin as I approach.
