Briar
“Dead?” Royce asked as Briar pressed her fingers against the side of the man’s neck.
“Yep. Still warm.” She stood back up, holstering her Glock again and turning in a circle to take in the small antiseptic office. This was obviously where Samuel Ayren had met with clients. “What the fuck? Why kill the mortician?”
They gazed down at the dead man again. Ayren was impeccably dressed in a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and leather shoes so shiny she could almost see her reflection in them. The bullet hole in his forehead ruined the look. And the relatively small amount of blood soaked into the carpet told Briar he’d died instantly.
“I assume this is Ayren?”
Royce nodded, still on guard with weapon drawn. “We need to get out of here. I’m calling Bishop and Caleb.”
Pulling his phone out as he grumbled something about how he should have done it earlier, Royce stepped back out into the hallway and Briar followed after him.
There were the two FBI agents on their way to Rexville, too, but she didn’t have their cell phone numbers so she couldn’t ask them to meet her at the funeral home instead of the Sheriff’s Office—and was this related to everything else, or had Ayren been the victim of a random crime? She quickly texted her new boss, asking that he respond ASAP.
Was the shooter still in the building? Was he waiting outside for them to exit? If so, why hadn’t he taken them out when they arrived? What the fucking hell was going on?
“Call them from the car,” she said. Then, with a grin, she added, “We’d better call the sheriff, too—oh wait, you’re right here.”
Royce stared at Briar in astonishment. Then he laughed, his silver-blue eyes showing off their sexy smile lines, and before Briar realized his intent, he’d leaned in and cupped her jaw between his strong fingers, bringing his lips down on hers.
Was it the most romantic place she’d ever been kissed? Probably not. Was it the hottest, most carnal kiss Briar had ever experienced? Yes, yes it was. Her nipples were hard in an instant and she had to force herself not to rub against Royce like a cat.
It was Royce, however, who broke the kiss.
“What you do to me,” he groaned. “Damn, we need to get out of here. I have a very bad feeling. Let me take the lead, I’m more familiar with the building. I trust you to protect my six.”
Briar blinked. Royce trusted her to have his back. Those seven words made up the most romantic sentence he could possibly have uttered.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back, sheriff.”
One side of Royce’s mouth lifted in a sexy smirk.
“What do you think, front door or back?” he asked.
“I’d say anything else but that. We don’t know who could be out there waiting for us. But I don’t like feeling trapped in here. I’d guess there’s a back entrance where they bring in, um, people?” Bodies, but whatever.
Royce frowned. “I don’t like this either. Let’s find the back entrance.”
She let him go ahead, guarding his six just like she’d promised.
The hallway was clear in both directions, at least as far as they could see. Briar followed Royce as he turned to the right and headed to the back of the building instead of left toward the lobby. It seemed far too easy and they reached what had to be the back entrance with no problems, but every hair on the back of Briar’s neck was going crazy.
The metal double doors were closed. When they were almost close enough to touch them, the distinct sound of gunshots sounded from the other side. Briar’s heart thudded against her ribs as she plastered herself against the wall. Royce was right beside her, his calm gaze meeting Briar’s.
“At least two shooters from the sound of it.”
They both flinched as another shot sounded. That last one wasn’t as close as the first they’d heard.
“I really don’t like this,” Briar said.
“Me either,” Royce responded, pressing his lips into a thin line.
“Kick open the door,” she instructed.
“You kick it open.”
She rolled her eyes at him but stepped toward the door.