Shotgun Justice (5 page)

Jesse's heart rate sped out of control. He lost his grip on the plastic, then watched the bottle bounce and roll, spilling cold water across the old tile.
He has her.
His gut and mind were in sync.
Snake Eyes has her already.
“Get me out of here. Now.”

The deputy jumped back a little. Maybe from the spilling water but more likely because of the animalism Jesse barely recognized in his own voice.

“Just hold on a minute and don't get worked up again. Nothing's happened to her, but I think you answered my first question. This is about her brother, but you're here because of you. She's been tight-lipped for the past hour and I wanted some answers.”

“Deputy Jackson, you're smarter than I gave you credit.”

“Thanks. I think. Easy mistake. I'm a lot older than I look.” The deputy retrieved the key and swung the door open. “Avery had your car brought to the office. Keys are across the street.”

“You aren't going to keep me here till I spill what's going on?” Jesse slid through the water on the floor and darted through the door before the deputy could change his mind.

“Smarter. You should remember that later.” He smiled, making himself look younger than before. Then he handed over the blue duffel. “Go inside the office across the street and collect your keys. Avery wanted to know if you needed directions to her house.”

“I got it, thanks.”

Keys. Paperwork. A short drive down unfamiliar streets. Jesse's mind was blank following the directions on the map he'd printed out. He hadn't thought of what he was going to say this time. As he pulled into a driveway, a motion detector flooded the yard with light. His eyes adjusted and he saw her sitting casually on the front porch.

Relief coursed through him like dousing a sunbaked body in a cool stream. She was safe. Exposed. Beer in one hand. Shotgun lying next to her bare thigh.

Very short shorts. But who was he to complain? She was safe. Avery had long, terrific legs that he'd admired for most of his life. Sand volleyball at Baylor had been eye-opening when he was eighteen.

“Sorry for losing my head on the highway.” She took a short sip from the bottle, never taking her eyes from him. Her short pixie cut—and he knew that only because of his mother telling him years ago—was under a black hat.

“Sorry that I didn't give you a heads-up before arriving.” He took a couple of steps closer, wondering if that shotgun was for him or Tenoreno's hired man. “Got another one of those?”

“Didn't you bring your own weapons?” She sipped, then set her bottle on top of the water ring already on the old porch. “Oh, you meant a beer. Sure.”

The amber bottle had been sitting behind her for a while. Evidenced by the moisture dripping from its surface. He didn't care if the beer inside was hotter than hell; he'd guzzle the peace offering he recognized being offered to him.

“Nice hat.” They tapped the bottle bottoms together and each drew a long drink.

“I bought it when I moved here. Symbolic. Rangers wear white, et cetera.”

Crickets chirped, the floodlight went off. It was a calm he could be thankful for. No words were necessary. In spite of their differences, they could work together. Old friends, falling into sync with...

“Your assassin waltzed into the sheriff's office this evening.” Avery tipped the bottle for another swallow. “Want to see his picture?”

Chapter Six

Warm beer shot from Jesse's mouth and up through his nose. Avery remained on the step, calmly finishing her last swallow. Her eyes sparkled from the porch light but mainly with laughter. Or maybe it was satisfaction.

No one had caught a picture of the Snake Eyes Killer. If they had, they didn't know it. Completely at home with her, he untucked his shirttail and used it to dry his face. “You're lucky I wasn't facing you when you shared that news.”

“It's all about the timing. Have a seat.” She patted the space on the far side of her daddy's shotgun.

He recognized the initials carved into the wood.
A.T.
Hers. He'd helped her do it when they were ten. They'd both been grounded two weeks for ruining it, according to their dads. He took his seat and tried to be patient.

She pulled a folded piece of paper from her back pocket and flipped it on top of the gun. “I'm not convinced. Too easy for someone who's never left a trace.”

“You know?”

“I'm not helpless, Jesse. I already admitted that I lost it on the highway. But honestly, when have you ever known me to lose the good sense God gave me during a case? I called Major Parker. I got all the details you didn't tell me.” She spun sideways, leaning against the porch rail. “You sort of buried the most important part of your story when you got out of the car.”

“I apologized.”

“Yes, you did. So, moving on.” She leaned forward and tapped the paper with a short nail. “Professional hit men don't curiously face a video camera like this guy did. He smiled at it, for crying out loud.”

“I agree. Probably not our man, but—”

“It's someone who's met him,” she finished with him.

Jesse unfolded the picture of a guy who looked normal enough. Looking directly at the camera with a big grin. “Did you send it to Major Parker?”

“Yes. He has someone working on facial recognition. I issued an all-points bulletin.” She shook her head. “We both know that's just busywork. Why do you think this Snake Eyes character would show his hand, letting us know that he's here?”

“To draw you out? Think he was waiting for you at the jail?”

“If he was...then he knows you're here.” Her palms covered her eyes. An old habit she'd had since a kid. “There goes that bit of surprise.”

“I may be wrong.”

“I doubt it. Makes too much sense.”

“So I guess you're on board with flushing this guy out. No way to talk you out of it?”

“I said yes to Parker. He explained why it's important and asked that I remind you to take Snake Eyes alive. I don't understand why he thinks you'd shoot him. I mean, you haven't killed anyone in the line of duty.”

Jesse knew. Watching her, he'd kept an eye on her legs, her waist, the curve of her lips. There wasn't a night that went by that he didn't wish his hands were stroking her silky skin. He remembered how she'd felt against his flesh, how she'd eagerly responded to his kisses.

He'd defend her with his life. He'd rather shoot the other guy first. Yeah, he knew why his commander needed to remind him.

“You know he's not going to approach me if you're around.”

“Probably won't be tonight, then.” He chugged the rest of his beer, listening to her small pretend gasp. “I'm not heading anywhere.”

“I put sheets and a pillow on the couch. I don't have a guest room.”

The security light popped on. They both went for the shotgun. Both realized it was just a tree branch blowing in front of the sensor. No one stood in the driveway ready to kill them. She slid the gun across her lap anyway.

“You're not going to like the couch,” she added with a grin.

“It's okay. I didn't plan on getting much sleep.”

Avery stood on the step, shotgun resting on her arm as she looked up and down the street. He understood that she was silently waiting on him to gather his things and come inside. He did, watching as intently as her.

Once inside, he dropped his bag and laptop, then began checking window locks.

“They haven't been open since I was locked up.”

Focus. They'd apologized. No need to go back and dredge up another hurt. If they were going to do that, he'd talk about their last night together. Explain how things had seemed different.

Later. Now was the time to talk strategy.

“When's your shift start tomorrow? How much do you plan to tell your staff?” He checked the back door and paused for her answers back in the living area.

“Are you even curious why I didn't get the message that Rosco was dead?”

“You said Sheriff Myers is out of town and you released me before daylight.” He returned from the small bedroom that was just big enough for her queen mattress sitting without a frame in the corner. “We both have deductive skills that we utilize fairly well. All the windows are secured. You spoke to Parker. If there's a problem, he'll find it.”

“Glad nothing's changed in the last ten minutes. I checked them when I got home.”

“Just making sure.”

“Well, you could have asked.”

“Come on, Avery. We both need to be on our toes. We can't get emotional about this situation.” He dug through his bag, removed weapons and ammo. Unzipped carrying cases, setting a rifle and three handguns on the coffee table.

She placed the shotgun between the door and porch window. Easy access. Then she huffed to the kitchen. “I suppose some things will never change.”

“I'm the same man I was before. I'm not changing who that is for this assignment. It's the reason they sent me.” It sounded as if a metal pot hit the floor. “I never wanted to let you down, Avery.”

“Ha.”

They were there. Emotional. A night of mistakes between them. “There's no way to avoid this conversation. Is there?”

“You seem to have done a good job avoiding it for at least eight months,” she said, not quite shouting from behind a wall.

“I'm sorry.”

Half her body appeared at the kitchen entrance. She pointed a wooden spoon at him. He would have ducked if it had been in her throwing hand.

“For what part? Not speaking to me? Not making love to me? Leaving me embarrassed in my apartment without a word of explanation? Why are you apologizing?”

“All of the above?”

“That's what Garrison would say.” She left him alone.

If she was using the spoon, she used it silently. He barely heard a sound for several minutes. The microwave beeped and a pretty good aroma wafted into the living area.

“I want to ask if any of that is for me. Then again, I believe it is. We might be arguing, but we're family and you wouldn't leave me hungry.” He was joking, trying to lighten the mood. It always worked for Garrison.

“Come get your plate. I'm not waiting on you.”

He joined her in the kitchen, where she was filling two plates—one more than the other. She shoved his plate complete with a fork into his chest.

“Jesse Thomas Ryder, we are not family. You're my brother's best friend and a Texas Ranger who I'm being forced to work with. But we are not family.” That answer was loud and through gritted teeth. “My brother hasn't seen me naked since we were four years old.” She had her head down, looking a little embarrassed at what she'd implied.

And I have seen her beautifully naked.
“You're right, of course. Avery, about that night—”

She nodded to the refrigerator. “There's soda.” She left him standing there.

He followed, shoveling a forkful of some sort of cheesy casserole into his mouth. It wasn't bad. “Did you start cooking? I don't think it's restaurant quality and doesn't taste store bought. Did you start watching food shows?” He looked around the house. “You know, this is pretty cozy, with the exception of the mattress on the floor.”

“Fully furnished,” she said while setting her plate down. “I needed a bigger bed and haven't found a frame yet.”

The confident woman sitting in front of him was gorgeous. Even more so than when he'd taken her to his bed. The smoldering in her eyes and the slight arch of her eyebrow would have implied sexy reasons why she'd needed a bigger bed. He'd believe that look from anyone other than Avery.

If she'd been seeing someone, not only would Garrison have spilled his guts, but their mom would probably have asked for a background check. Things had changed, though. So was she...?

“You're teasing me?”

She jumped up and tapped his shoulder as she passed with her plate. “Good grief, Jesse. You aren't the only guy around. And it's none of your business.”

“Yeah, I know. I just thought—”

“You thought that because you wouldn't have sex with me, no one would? Or did you think I was still upset about it?” She hugged him from behind. Her arms wrapped around his chest.

He could feel her warm breath through his shirt as she pressed her cheek to his back. His hands were occupied with a half-eaten plate of the mystery casserole or he would have hugged her in return.

“Get serious. I'm not upset because you were drunk and obviously had some...um...problems. I'm totally angry because you suggested that I spend three days in jail and my boss listened to you over me. Is that misunderstanding all cleared up?”

Forgiven as if their embarrassing encounter meant nothing? Or it hadn't caused her to quit the Highway Patrol and move hundreds of miles away? He couldn't tell if she was lying. Not without looking straight into her eyes. If she was, they always opened wider. Or she'd accidentally wink, forcing them not to open. She knew that he would know.

“Yeah, we're good. Let's get started.” He pushed the last three bites into his mouth and took his plate to the kitchen.

She grabbed a laptop from the bedroom and sat cross-legged on the couch. He took an uncomfortable chair across from her. If Avery was lying about how she felt, she'd learned how to fake it. She didn't seem fazed in the least that he was there. He couldn't say the same from his view and those legs.

“Major Parker said he'd email you the research they'd gathered on Snake Eyes and possible homicides he's linked to. Do you have them?” She never looked up from the keyboard.

Whatever she was doing...she kept at it with that same sexy upturn to her lips. He opened his laptop and she told him how to access her network. A loaded question that he ignored.

“Got it. We should probably print these. Looks like there's a dozen possible matches.”

“The printer is wireless. Same password.” She let him know but kept typing.

“Why Snake Eyes?” She tipped the lid toward her and looked at him as the printer zinged to life. “I mean, the rocks are polished like flattened marbles, hand-painted with reptile-like features. Why snakes? Why not human eyes?”

“Something in his past maybe?”

“Or present.”

“These bodies all have one thing in common—they were found in wilderness. Doesn't matter what state, they're miles from the closest town. Nothing else around them except nature.”

“Is there a profile?”

“No. He hasn't been considered a serial killer. More like an assassin for Mafia or gangs. These deaths weren't all connected until today.” He thumbed through the photos. They almost all showed the same scene.

“So we know he likes snakes. He's comfortable in the outdoors. He has money.” Avery typed her list.

“By the looks of these pictures, he doesn't care if the bodies are found. He probably
wants
them found. The decomposition and the fact that he's in the middle of nowhere would cover any DNA mistakes he might make.” Jesse pointed to different remains that used to be humans.

“Do you think he's proud of his work?”

“He took the real eyes and left fakes for a reason. He wouldn't have if he didn't want to connect all the murders.” What kind of man were they facing?

“True.” Her eyes dropped to the keyboard. The familiar
click click click
began. “A lot of serial killers are eventually caught because of their egos. Oh, I know you said Snake Eyes hasn't been classified as that. He might be getting paid, but he has all the markings of a serial.”

“Agreed. The person who did this...” He paused, flipped a photo of a corpse toward her so she could take a good look. “He would still be killing if he wasn't getting paid.”

“Elements, animals or him?” She reached for the paper.

They'd analyzed cases before. Shoulder to shoulder, for years studying to become better than the best. He could do his job and protect her.

“Jesse?”

“What?”

“I asked if there was anything in those files that indicated how the victims disappeared.”

“Sorry. I must have drifted. It's been a long day.” He wasn't lying, just not admitting how worried this guy made him.

“Oh man, don't I know it? Covering for Dan is exhausting.” If that wasn't the complete truth, she hid it well. “So we'll leave it for the morning and have something to discuss for polite breakfast conversation.”

She picked up the shotgun as she went to the bedroom. “If you need to use the facilities, better do it now. I'm taking a shower in about three minutes.”

He nodded his confirmation before she shut the door.

Polite conversation discussing the motives of a deranged serial killer.
Why did the prospect of more than one such breakfast discussion turn him on and give him hope for the future?