Confess (The Blue Line Series Book 1) (8 page)

“So, money talks.” Andrews leaned back in his chair, making the leather crackle under his considerable weight. “They sure didn’t give a damn thirteen years ago when thirteen young girls went missing and ended up mutilated from scalp to toe.”

Anger, red hot and liquefied, pulsed through Mitch’s body at the casual mention of Sadie’s murder. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted the tang of blood. Then he bit even harder to hide the pain. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, Sir.”

Andrews rocked forward. “Then what the hell are you doing in Rebel, Detective? Why’d they send a snot-nosed rook like you?”

Frustration ate at his insides, but Mitch managed to keep his temper under control. “We can shoot the shit all day long. Hell, we can even step outside and see who can piss the straightest line, but the fact remains. A young woman is dead, and the murder happened on your watch. You can help me investigate and put the bastard away before anyone else dies, or you can get in my way and have Nashville riding your back. You choose.”

Chief Andrews stiffened in his chair, no doubt deciding how to take Mitch’s threat.

“Deluna and Helms will see you have what you need while you’re here, but I’m warning you. A step, a fucking toe over the line, and I’ll haul your ass back to Nashville myself.”

Good. Compliance. He’d bought into Mitch’s warning without argument.

“Yeah.”

“Anything else I can do for you?”

Mitch pulled his phone from his back pocket and scrolled past the pictures he’d taken that morning at the crime scene to a shot of Stetson he’d snapped at the bar the night before. “Know this kid?”

“Charlie’s nephew. Parents just split. He’s here for the summer while they take care of the divorce. He was in diapers when the first murders started.”

Mitch weighed his answer. There was also the slightest chance the two murders weren’t from the same killer. People liked to copy. Take advantage of an already established kill pattern thinking it would cover their tracks.

Small towns and accusations could get very tricky. “He doesn’t seem skilled enough to pull off this clean a murder, but I’m watching him.” And if he showed up at Charlie’s during one of Lacy’s shifts again, he’d make damn sure the kid knew just how closely he was watching.

Besides, the recent murder happened around the time the kid arrived. Whoever killed her would have avoided the obvious scenario.

“Good,” Andrews answered. “If you start accusing every teenager in town, I’ll have a mob of parents on my hands.” He sat his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “These are good people, Detective. They’re scared, and they’re willing to believe whatever rumors surface about the murders. I’m not going to let you turn my town into tabloid fodder or create panic. Remember, Detective, you’re just as much an outsider here as that kid. Start a panic and eyes will be turning to you, if they haven’t already.”

“I don’t plan to.” But he’d heed the warning just the same. Small towns had a way of creating their own truths. If anything, he’d hoped to stay as low profile as possible and as under the Nashville radar as Chief Andrews had managed to hide.

“Anything else, ask Deluna or Helms. They’re young, but they’re good officers. Helms’s father and I went way back.” Some unwanted emotion flickered in the chief’s eyes before he blinked it away and went on. “Whatever you need. I don’t want Nashville breathing down my neck about not being compliant.”

Andrews cleared his throat and tossed a glance to a silver frame on his desk. “If that is all. You may go.”

Mitch grabbed the door handle, but stopped short of leaving when the chief loosened his tie and shook his head. “Something else you wanted to say, Sir?”

“My boys were right about you.” Andrews stood and circled his desk, landing a hip on the corner. “You read between the lines. Some sadistic bastard has my town on lockdown and some still wet behind the ear detective thinks he can do a better job of catching the killer than I can. Then I get all this nonsense from Nashville about archived files going missing from their department and internal investigations of my men. I want this shit brought to justice before another one of our girls goes missing and one of my officers takes the blame.”

Mitch watched the chief’s eyes glance back to the silver frame. He didn’t need three guesses to figure out who was in the picture.

“Loud and clear, Sir. Anything else?”

“Yes.” Andrews picked up the frame and held it out for Mitch. Lacy, clothed in a pale blue dress and white sweater minus the tattoos and pink hair, looking more the church going good Samaritan than the hellcat bartender from last night, looped her arms around her father’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“My daughter and I don’t get along as well as we used to. Her mom cut out several years back, and her brother and I did our best to raise her. She’s tough. She thinks she can take on the world without consequences.”

Mitch groaned in agreement with the accurate appraisal.

“Lacy lost respect for my opinion long ago. The only voice she listens to is the one in her head.”

Another accurate assessment.

“Maybe I was wrong to keep such a tight fist on her, but being my only girl, I had no other choice.” The chief took a sharp breath, pushing some protected sentiment down. “But that doesn’t stop me from being an overbearing father.” His eyes narrowed on Mitch. “You’re trouble, kid. Nothing about you is good for my daughter, and I don’t want to see her hurt again. Stay the hell away. That’s an order.”

Mitch’s back straightened. “Lacy’s a grown woman. She can make up her own mind about who she spends her time with.”

“Helms clued me in about last night.” His gaze cut hard to Mitch, brooking no arguments about his next statement. “Give my daughter a wide berth, Detective. She’s been through enough heartbreak. She doesn’t need an off-the-rails detective fucking with her head.”

Mitch pulled on his jaw. It wasn’t the first time he’d been read the riot act from an overprotective father, but back then his dates had been in their teens and living under daddy’s protective roof. Not mid-twenties, single, and hotter than sin. “Just to be clear, you’re asking me to stay away from your daughter? Your adult daughter?”

Chief Andrews gave a husky laugh in reply. “Lacy hates law enforcement about as much as she hates her old man.” He shook his head. “I’ve had three guys tail her from that seventh-circle-of-hell bar she insists on working in. She’s lost them all. I doubt you’ll last long.”

“Again. That’s for your daughter to decide.”

“And once this case breaks, you’ll be back to the big city, and she’ll be here, alone. That’s for you to decide, Detective.”

Mitch stifled his own laugh. “And if I say no to staying away?”

“There aren’t enough dead nieces of would-be politicians in hell to keep me from coming after you.” He ground the words out through an emotionless expression that challenged Mitch more than the threat.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Sir.” Mitch grabbed the door handle and let himself out. If hunting a killer wasn’t enough of a challenge, now he had to watch his back as well. Damn small towns.

***

Lacy shimmied into the only dress she owned with a collar high enough to cover the marks Mitch left along her neck and dabbed citrus scented lotion on her arms and legs.

Playing the part of doting daughter and sister to the audience of politicians and town supports turned her stomach, but her brother, John, only turned thirty once, and she planned to make his birthday a night worthy of remembering.

The lotion soaked into her skin and burned the gash she’d shaved into her left ankle. She shook her head, embarrassed about where her mind had wondered in the shower. Imaging Mitch with her, his hands roaming her body, his breath on her neck. Dirty, exciting, explicit words flowing from his lips as he took her to the edge the way no man’s voice ever had.

Lost in the memory of last night, her hands had followed the path his lips had burned into her skin, across her neck and down into the dip between her breasts. Her breathing quickened and heat bloomed in her cheeks.

And the stupid fool that she was, he’d no sooner revved the engine of his Indian after the late night phone call then she’d called Connie to meet her on the main road. It was only after she’d divulged every detail of their heated night of passion that she realized in her rush to leave, she’d left behind something very important. Her favorite thong and a healthy slice of her dignity.

Too afraid to admit going home with him was a mistake, she’d bailed. Just like her mother. Without a word.

Her reflection pinkened in her bedroom mirror. All the bronzer in the world couldn’t keep her face from blushing all night while her mind involuntarily went back to that frustrating man, or hide the tiny bruises dotting her neck up to her ear lobes.

At least being the police chief’s only daughter had one great perk to go along with the several hassles. LEOs mostly kept their distance. And if that didn’t keep them at bay, her inability to commit sent them packing.

Satisfied she’d done what she could with the blushing and the bite marks, she breezed through the modern kitchen her father and brother had spent the last year updating. White ceramic platters dotted with bite sized chicken sliders and stuffed mushrooms covered one side of the counter, and an assortment of alcohol lined the other.

In a year, she and Connie’s place would look similar. Rebel’s first upscale wine bar. The food a small sample of the dishes they already had on their select menu, and tonight was the perfect chance to drum up interest with a sampling of their soon to be fare. She’d focus on that for the night and push Mitch Kilpatrick and his scathing tongue from her mind.

She uncapped a bottle of tequila and turned the bottle up in her mouth. A shot of courage to face her father and the town together wouldn’t hurt.

Somewhere in the back yard, off-duty officers fought over grilling rights while her father showed off the landscaping he’d designed with the help of some of the local boys. He’d boast until no one cared to listen any longer, then he’d keep going because no one dared piss off Chief Andrews.

She’d just stuffed one juicy mushroom in her mouth when the doorbell rang. The mushroom slid down her throat whole the second she opened the front door and found Mitch, sexy as hell in a black suit and a day’s worth of stubble, holding a wine bottle. Even dressed as a gentleman, he held the air of supreme badass, a thought that sent heat radiating to all the places his fingers had touched the night before. Especially the place he’d made her orgasm.

Lacy blinked through her teary eyes, the knot of food lodged in her throat momentarily forgotten.

“Oh shit, Angel.” Panic registered in his eyes. Mitch dropped the bottle on a nearby bench, turned her around and pressed her back hard against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her middle, and his fists bit into her abdomen with a sharp, upward thrust.

Please God, do not let me throw up on his shoes. Anything but his shoes.

A cough built in her throat. With a gag, the mushroom flew from her mouth and landed with a moist thud on the front porch.

“I’ve been told I have an unnerving effect on people, but jeez.”

He rubbed over the bare spot on her back, the skin-to-skin contact made regaining her breath twice as difficult. “What are you doing here?” she managed between gasps of air.

“You left without your eggs this morning, and I did promise eggs.”

Her gaze dropped to his lips and the hollow of his neck, imagining what kissing him here on the front steps of her father’s house would feel like. What would her father say to his only daughter making out with a Nashville detective while half the town watched on? She smiled. She couldn’t, but boy would that frost dear old dad.

She wanted to inhale Mitch’s scent, spicy cologne and laundry soap and something else she’d never encountered before. Something that was all Mitch.

Down the street, a car door slammed, snapping her fantasy in two. Her brother’s laughter drifted out from the backyard. Sticking it to dad was one thing. A glorious thing at that, but she couldn’t commit John to months of scrutiny and teasing when the guys caught wind of his little sister doing a Nashville cop.

She pulled the front door closed behind her, blocking Mitch from the party in the backyard. “Now is not the best time.”

He took a step forward, and the need to press herself against him pulled strong in her belly.

“For making eggs, no.” His grin grew wide. “But that can wait until tomorrow morning. Tonight I fully intend to show you what happens to girls who leave warm, empty spots in my bed in the middle of the night and scare the hell out of me. Now, aren’t you going to invite me in, or should I call on your father for an invitation?”

How did she end up sleeping with the only one-night stand who could track her down and show up on her doorstep at precisely the wrong time?

A car door slammed in front of her father’s bungalow style house. Lacy made out two of her father’s lieutenants, dressed in dark polo shirts and kakis, making their way across the freshly mowed lawn from the curb.

Her gaze darted between the lieutenants and Mitch. She’d never hear the end of the ribbings if they caught her with one of the big city detectives they despised. She’d never hear the end of it from her father. God, John would ridicule her with his dying breath. She’d be the laughing stock of Rebel. She had to get Mitch away from the front door, and fast.

“Invite me in.” Mitch cupped his fingers around her hand. The innocence of the gesture contrasted with the passion-starved look washing over his eyes and sent shivers of ice-cold heat up her spine.

“No,” she whispered, scared her voice would attract the approaching officer’s unwanted attention.

Why was he doing this to her, tonight of all nights?

To say her family was overprotective was the understatement of the millennium, but pile on every off-duty officer in the county and she’d never live it down.

Not that she cared about pissing off the old man, it was a sport she excelled at, but she really didn’t need the added drama in her life. She enjoyed their arrangement. She stayed somewhere in the lines of his expectations, and the chief stayed out of her personal life. One look at Mitch and he’d have her tailed again.