Chapter Seven
Olin sat at the desk in his office, a headache plaguing him. He’d already down a few ibuprofen, but the pain hadn’t gone away. He took a moment and closed his eyes, trying to let the meds kick in. Maybe a quick nap would help—it wasn’t as if he’d been sleeping well.
He’d spoken to Dean and Bradley, now, though Bradley handled most of watching Kat. The man was staying at her place anyway, so the only time Dean had to step in was when Kat wanted to go out.
It had worked out fine so far, so Olin had poured himself into the case. He could do more good by solving this thing, by finding some sort of evidence to take down Jerry, than by trying to hover over her.
She didn’t need him.
The memory of her at Sanctuary came back to him. He’d watched as Dean and Bradley had enjoyed her, had brought her pleasure, and even if Olin had wanted to join in—and fuck, had he ever—he’d known that wasn’t possible. Kat needed that dynamic, craved it, couldn’t be happy without it. It was in the lovely way she gave in, the peace that had taken over her, that had stripped away her fears.
And Olin? He couldn’t give her that. He’d seen what happened when people found out, and with his job, he couldn’t risk it again.
Which meant it didn’t matter if he wanted her, or how badly, because it just wasn’t possible.
His door opened—no knock, no warning. He opened his eyes, ready to make it clear to whoever barged in that the behavior wasn’t acceptable.
Except, rather than a coworker, instead of another detective or uniformed officer looking for information, Kat stood there.
And she sure did short his brain out. She shut the door behind her, and a flush on her cheeks said this wasn’t a happy visit. Still…the woman was a knockout. She wore a pair of jeans and a tank top, her hair down and her eyes bright.
Still, it was easy to guess why she was there.
“You heard about the bodies, huh?” Olin remained leaning back in his office chair.
She pressed her lips together for a moment. “So you did know? On my way over here, I’d started to convince myself that I was wrong, that maybe you didn’t know about it, maybe it was a different department, and you weren’t keeping it from me. Guess that isn’t the case.”
Olin sighed. It wasn’t that he’d thought he could keep it from her forever, but he’d hoped he’d solve it first. Seemed like Kat was smarter than he’d hoped for. He should have expected this. “I didn’t want you worrying.”
She walked forward and slammed her palms down on his desk. “It’smylife! I don’t need you to protect me from things, to lie to me. How long have you known?”
“From the first victim I suspected.”
She frowned. “That day you called me sounding frantic…”
Olin nodded. “I saw the first body, and she could have been your twin. Because of the injuries, I couldn’t see her face well, but everything was just like you. I had to call to make sure it wasn’t you. I didn’t know for sure that it had anything to do with you at that time, though.”
“And when you did?”
“By body three I couldn’t ignore it anymore. They’re clearly a message to you.”
“Obviously.” Kat let out a slow breath, and Olin shook his head.
This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to tell her. The weight was obvious. Kat blamed herself for it, carried that on her own shoulders as if she were at fault. It wasn’t her—Jerry had done this.
He’d never wanted to see that guilt on her face.
“Can you do anything about it?” Kat asked.
“Not yet. There’s been all of no evidence for us to pin it on Jerry. He’s been careful to make it clear it’s him without giving us anything solid. Even if he did, we still can’t find him.”
“So what? I’m supposed to just sit around and watch women die in my place and ignore it?”
“What other option is there?”
She said nothing, turning away, making Olin hesitate.
“Kat…”