Chapter Fourteen
Easton had been awake for a while, soaking in the feeling of Kinley’s body tangled around him. The night before had been nothing less than earth-shattering. Now her bare back was against his chest, his arms firmly wrapped around her waist, their legs tangled together. This was exactly what he wanted. What he’d fight for. Maybe he’d been in denial all along, but after last night, hearing every sweet sigh, feeling every tremble, he was lost in the heaven that was his woman. His. Kinley owned his heart, and he didn’t want it back. The rise and fall of her breath echoed against his skin, and the sweet scent of her hair enveloped him. All his life, he’d been fighting his past, going through the motions of the present, but now, for the first time, he was excited about the future. About all the things he wanted to experience with Kinley.
They needed to talk, though. It was his responsibility to keep her safe, and right now, he was doing a shit job of it. Diving into bed with her took his focus off of the case. Instead of patrolling the perimeter and scouring the internet for more information, he’d been lost to her. How could he live with himself if his feelings ended up affecting his work so much that Kinley was killed?
His phone rang, and he cursed under his breath. He gently released Kinley and turned to his nightstand.
He glanced at the phone and frowned. “’Ello?” Easton swung his legs over the side of the bed, bypassed the clothing strewn over the floor, and stalked into the bathroom.
“Adair.” His superior’s voice filled the line. “I received your message and spoke with Agent Powers. You have your taskforce. The District Attorney has granted us a search warrant for Maxwell Calder’s home. The state police got a hit on the partial print found at the scene of the homicide on Highland Path. Agent Nilsson has requested to assist, and Powers will be stepping in on the trafficking situation. You also have agents Eliza Brigham and Tyler Dawson. Let’s bring him in for questioning. I’ve arranged for a temporary vehicle to be dropped off at your location. Two agents should be pulling into your driveway at any moment. After all these years, we might have our first person of interest in the Kingston Town Killer case.”
“Thank you. Happy to have Nilsson and the others on this. I’ll report in to the office right away.” After the call was disconnected, he turned on the shower and stepped inside, too impatient to wait while the water warmed. He took what his brother would call a military shower, soaping up and rinsing off in record time. When he walked out of the bathroom, a towel slung around his hips, Kinley was sitting up in bed. She’d tossed on one of his t-shirts while he’d been in the shower, and damn, he loved the look of her wearing it. Her legs were bent toward her chest, with her arms wrapped around her knees.
“What’s going on?” she asked, brows pulling together.
“Partial found at the Highland Path murder matches Caldwell’s prints in the system. It’s almost over, baby.” At the mention of Calder, her body stiffened and she let out a forceful breath.
“But”—she shook her head—“that doesn’t make any sense. He’s not the man who took me. I’d know. He has to be sheltering someone.” She clutched her knees more tightly. “How? How could he look at me every day and know? Smile at me?”
He hated Calder even more for putting that wounded look in her eyes. Of being one more person to let her down. Everyone at the barracks loved Calder. No one would’ve questioned his motives for being there.
“He always seemed so kind and warm. Sometimes, I’d … I’d wonder if my life would be any different with a father so supportive and giving.” A bitter chuff broke from her lips. “Instead, he’s possibly involved in the most traumatic event in my life.”
“We’ll have answers soon.” He opened his closet and yanked on pants and a shirt before rounding the bed. “You’ll have justice. All those families will have peace.” He leaned down and cupped her cheek. “About last night—”
Her eyes turned into slits, and she flinched away. “What about it?”
“Don’t put those walls up. I just… Fuck. I can’t protect you the way I need to when my head’s so full of you I can’t think straight. I want to do this right. We need to take a step back until all this shit is wrapped up. I’m relieved that seems like it will be sooner rather than later.”
Hurt flashed over her features. “You regret it.” Her voice was hollow, empty.
“I regret getting distracted when my sole focus should be keeping you safe. Don’t mistake that with me not caring when you know damn well I do.” Shit. He’d gone about this all wrong. Nothing good ever came after about last night. He couldn’t be any more of an idiot.
“I can keep myself safe. What I can’t deal with is you pulling away after what we shared. After I let myself be vulnerable for the first time ever. If you don’t want this, fine, but don’t use my situation—”
Easton slammed his mouth down on hers, effectively silencing her doubts. “Look at me. There’s nothing I want more than to be with you. To do that, you need to be safe. Stay here. Please. I’ll call as soon as I can. Keep the doors locked and the alarm set.”
After a moment of hesitation, she nodded, and relief flooded through him. He’d smooth things out when all of this was over. She’d be safe in his home, even if he wasn’t in it. He had to believe that or he’d never be able to focus on the task in front of him.
“Easton, I… Be safe, okay?” Her voice cracked. A silent plea flitted through her eyes, and his heart expanded in his chest.
“You too, Kins.” He pressed his palms to her cheeks, momentarily blinded by emotion that had his heart hammering. When he turned to leave, an empty flutter tunneled through his stomach. He glanced over his shoulder before he closed the bedroom door behind him, savoring the sight of Kinley in his space. She’d be safe, and soon, she’d be free.
****
He met the other agents at the bureau’s satellite office to brief before they drove to the residence on file at Lake Boone. Nothing but the dense forest was visible through the passenger side window of Agent Nilsson’s SUV. Brigham and Dawson were bringing up the rear in the vehicle behind them, followed by their field Evidence Response Team. The tires jerked over the unpaved dirt drive, rolling over deep divots in the rocky terrain. Between the tree cover and the thick clouds tightly bound over the sky, it felt more like late afternoon than morning. Two miles off of the main road, they reached the address. The home was a two-story building that backed up against the water. An odd sensation prickled at the back of his neck—the kind he used to get when his mother explained in a voice void of emotion that one of her friends was coming over, and they were to do everything they were told.
The vehicle rolled to a stop, and he absently touched the weapon on his hip. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in the field, but it was more typical for him to be at his desk, uncovering information. Before the other agents had arrived at the office, he’d hacked into Calder’s computer. At first glance, nothing popped out to him as suspicious. Still, this was personal. He wanted to collect every scrap of technology in the house and transport it safely to the office, where he could dissect every bit of information on each device.
“Ready?” Nilsson asked, releasing her seatbelt.
He reached for the handle. “Let’s go.” The wind howled, and tree branches bowed. He fought to push the car door open, and the second he did, a raw gust snaked down the front of his black agency-issued tactical vest.
“We’ll serve the arrest warrant,” Dawson said. Easton had only spoken to the former Green Beret briefly in the past. The man’s quick smile did nothing to detract from the lethal aura that surrounded him. “And take him in for questioning.”
“This should’ve been a no-knock warrant,” Nilsson bit out. “But he’s friends with the judge who issued it.”
“Let’s get in there quick then, before he has the chance to destroy any evidence.” If the judge thought that someone with ties to the Kingston Town Killer wouldn’t be dangerous because of their status in the community, they were gravely mistaken. Easton wouldn’t put it past the man to run or resist arrest.