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Oh, no.
It was the detective who was supposed to find him and lock him up.
CHAPTER NINE
Detective Wells Vaughn
I was miserable.
That seemed dramatic, but it was true.
I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on work, couldn’t stop thinking and obsessing about Mari.
And that kiss.
Fuck, that kiss.
If the dog hadn’t barked, I probably wouldn’t have stopped.
I would have started peeling off her clothes right there in the living room, then dropping down to my knees, and running my tongue and lips over her pussy until she was writhing and begging for my cock.
“Fuck,” I hissed to myself, shaking my head as I tossed some paperwork to the side for a robbery case that I’d been trying to prove was an inside job for days now, but the evidence trail was slim, even if the son of the owner was shady and shifty as hell.
“Need another set of eyes?” Gawen asked, materializing out of nowhere in front of my desk, and waving toward my paperwork. “Trying to get a lead in the Sadist case?” he asked, dropping down on the other side of my desk.
“Got no cases of your own?” I asked, head cocked to the side.
“Closed my only other open one this afternoon,” he said, shrugging. “You trying to find some commonalities in their schedules?” he asked, picking up the stack of paperwork that I’d been obsessing over on the Sadist case.
I’d always been dedicated to the case.
But I had to admit that since Mari was attacked, my attention had been single-minded.
I wanted to believe it was because I wanted to find this sick sonofabitch and get him behind bars, where he belonged.
And, yes, of course, that was part of it.
A larger part, though, seemed to be my conflict of interest where the only surviving victim was concerned.
If I got the case closed, there was no reason why Mari and I couldn’t get involved. But while the case was still open and active, it was very seriously “frowned upon,” if not grounds for termination.
I couldn’t risk my career.
Or, worse yet, let a guilty man walk free to hurt more women because my ethics were called into question on the stand.
One kiss?
I could move on and pretend that didn’t happen.
But I had to make sure it didn’t go beyond that.
“Yeah,” I told Gawen, sighing as I rubbed my papery eyes. “I mean, this is Navesink Bank. There is going to be overlap,” I told him.
It wasn’t a small town. But it wasn’t huge either. There were only so many grocery stores and nail salons and shit like that.
“Yeah,” Gawen agreed, checking out my color-coded notes, the lines drawn from victim to destination.
“I’m almost desperate enough to go to each of those places and look at everyone in the face,” I said. “See if any of them have a birthmark in their eye.” Since that was what I concluded the spot in the killer’s eye must have been.
