FADE TO BLACK - Thrilling Romantic Suspense - Book 1 of the BLACK CATS Series (40 page)

But even before they’d moved to cut him down, Dean knew they were too late. The body was deadweight. Covey’s face was purple, his neck bent at an odd angle. It had broken in the fall. And then he’d suffocated.

It was over.

The Reaper was dead.

H
ope Valley had boasted
a famous citizen or two in its day. Some World War II hero had hailed from the town, as had a semi-successful country singer. Even a former Virginia congressman.

The Reaper, however, topped them all.

As soon as word about the case got out, the media descended upon her small hometown, covering every inch of it like fire ants on an anthill. Stacey couldn’t get away from them. She held formal press conferences right away, with Dean and his boss by her side, but the vultures still parked outside her house at night. She felt like a bug under a microscope as they all watched, hoping something new would happen to serve as the teaser for the next broadcast.

There was nothing new left to happen. Covey was dead. His last victim, little Nicholas Logan, would survive physically unscathed, though probably mentally scarred.

They’d even found the final piece of the puzzle they’d been looking for all along. While processing the scene at the barn, Dean had noticed a slightly sunken area in the ground in the back of one of the old stalls.

Lisa. She’d been there all along, in the old barn that hadn’t been used in decades. Right under their noses.

And that was the end of that.

Still, the reporters pried into all the angles, titillated beyond belief by word that the first victim’s mother had killed her husband. They gleefully reported that the Reaper’s father was hospitalized but facing charges for theft when he was released. Somehow Rob-the-perv Monroe had even gotten tangled in there—
Sheriff Who Catches Killer Stalked in Her Own Home
. The mayor had quietly resigned, not stepping forward even once to take advantage of the spotlight. His sick, miserable excuse for a son was sitting in a mental ward, hopefully being tormented with the memories of what he’d done to poor Lady.

The FBI tried to keep Satan’s Playground out of it, but the media had wanted the full details of the Internet connection, and they’d found them. The site had gone black, for good this time, within twenty-four hours of Seth’s suicide.

Sick bastards. She could only hope that the FBI would catch them when they inevitably resurfaced.

“Finally got a minute alone, huh?” a voice asked from the open doorway of her office late one weekday afternoon.

Spying Mitch there, she forced a weary smile. “I think it’s my first in a week.”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay.”

It was true. Not great, but she was holding up. She’d just be better if she didn’t have to hold up alone. Oh, she was surrounded by friends, supported by her father and her brother, who’d finally gotten past his own situation to help his sister, his town, and his best friend through the ordeal. Her deputies had been rock-solid, the town residents sincerely grateful for a job well-done.

Even Warren Lee had done his civic duty, turning up at the station with some surveillance images from the night Lisa had been killed. Admitting he had security cameras all along his property—God, what she wouldn’t have given to know that early in this investigation—he claimed said he’d just discovered evidence, having gone looking after the case was blown open. She didn’t know that she believed him. Still, the images provided the final bit of proof that Seth had murdered Lisa Zimmerman. Everything was neatly wrapped up, the danger over.

Yet, she wasn’t happy. She went to bed alone every night. She had for several nights, ever since Dean and the rest of the Black CATs, as even the media was now calling them, headed back to D.C.

He’d called. She’d called. But somehow, something had changed. He hadn’t had to say it; she’d figured it out.

The case was over. He had no reason to be here. She’d been the one who had demanded a “meaningless,” emotionless fling for as long as he was around. Now, the only reason he would have to be around was if she wanted him to be, if this thing they had became personal. Emotional. Real.

It was. Oh, God, it was. She just didn’t know whether she could handle that.

A self-protective voice told her she was better off letting him drift away. It would be safer, less painful down the road. Another voice said it was time to let go of the fear and the regret, and take a chance on really living again.

Continue to hide in her small cocoon, playing it safe so she wouldn’t get hurt? Or allow herself to rejoin the rest of the world and open herself up to loss? But also to such tremendous possibility. Excitement, passion. Love.

“Is there anything you need me to do?”

She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “I’m fine.”

Mitch stepped inside the office, his hat, literally, in his hands. “Just wanted to say, uh, if you want my resignation, I’ll understand.”

Stacey merely stared, taken completely by surprise.

“I should have told you about me and Lisa when she first disappeared.”

So much had happened, she hadn’t given that another thought “Yes, you should have. But Mitch, honestly, I couldn’t do this job without you.”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, you could. In fact, you could do this job anywhere. You are the best cop I’ve ever known, and I think your phone’s gonna be ringing off the hook with offers.” With a shy smile, he nodded, slipped his hat back on his head, and ducked out, leaving her to sit alone in silence.

She had fielded a few calls. But she hadn’t given much thought to them. They’d lurked in the back of her mind, just as this whole thing with Dean lurked in the back of her mind. Something to think about. Something to ponder.

Something she had to decide. And soon.

Dean might have been
the last person in the known universe to have discovered Chuck E. Cheese, but in the past couple of weeks, he had more than made up for it. He’d just come from his third Wednesday in a row there, and frankly, if he never saw that big singing rat again, he’d be very happy.

After dropping Jared off at his ex’s, he made his way home, glad, at least, that it was late enough to avoid the unrelenting city traffic. It was dark by the time he pulled into the small parking lot beside the old school-turned-apartment building a few blocks from the Capitol. His place was small, but the location was convenient and the neighborhood had a lot of charm. It had an old-fashioned feel that wasn’t often found in D.C. Not exactly Hope Valley standards, but quaint. He wondered, not for the first time, what Stacey would think of it.

Then he saw the squad car parked in his reserved spot and realized he was about to find out.

His palms started to sweat as if he were some teenager about to get laid for the first time. His heart did that crazy flippy thing it had done since he’d first met her.

He’d missed her. Had thought a thousand times about getting in the car and going to her, demanding that she admit what he’d known for quite a while: that she had done the crazy and unthinkable and fallen as much in love with him as he had with her.

It had taken every bit of his strength not to do it. She needed to be the one to figure things out. Hopefully, her presence here meant that she had.

Parking beside her, he got out of the car and lifted a brow. “You’re in my spot.”

“Sheriff on official business,” she said as she stepped out to join him. “I can’t be ticketed.”

“You sure?”

A smile broadened her pretty mouth and, beneath the light cast by the lamppost, her eyes glittered with humor. And something more.

“I’ll take my chances.”

Four words. They could refer to her car, but he knew they didn’t. The double meaning hit him dead center, and he smiled back.

She was ready to take her chances with him.

Without another word, he stepped over and grasped her shoulders, bending slightly to catch her mouth in a hot, openmouthed kiss. When they’d been together, Stacey had filled all the empty places, made him feel satisfied and whole for the first time in ages. He’d missed that feeling. Missed this. Missed her.

She arched against him, pressing her soft body against his in pure feminine welcome. Lifting her arms, she tangled her fingers in his hair, kissing him back with just as much hunger and, he hoped, just as much happiness as he was feeling.

When they finally broke apart and looked at each other, he saw she still had that smile on her beautiful face. “Official business, huh?”

She nodded. “I came to talk about my future. My career as sheriff.”

He lifted a hand to her silky hair, loose and hanging in a curtain over her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing her uniform tonight. Dressed in a soft yellow blouse and white jeans, she looked sunny and feminine. But he’d bet anything she had a backup piece strapped to her ankle.

He couldn’t wait to get her inside and find out.

“You’re a great sheriff,” he said.

“I know.” There was no conceit, just that irresistible confidence. “But I’m thinking maybe I’d be a better detective. Maybe somewhere around here.”

He cupped her cheek. “Stacey, you don’t have to change a thing for me. Hope Valley’s not that far away.”

“It’s the other end of the earth,” she replied. “And after my dad’s term is up in a few months, I want to come back to this side of it. I’m thinking Sheriff Mitch Flanagan sounds really good.” She leaned up and rubbed her soft cheek against his grizzled one. “I’m done. It’s over. I’m finished hiding.”

“I knew that the minute I saw your car,” he said, covering her mouth with his again. This kiss was softer, gentler, infinitely more tender. And when their lips parted to exchange a warm breath of night air, he murmured, “I love you, Stacey.”

Her soft sigh of happiness told him before she gave the words back. “I love you, too.”

They stood there kissing for a while longer, then, in silence, moved toward the building. Her arm hooked in his, she stayed tucked by his side, fitting against him so perfectly it was like she’d been made to be there.

“Dean?”

He paused at the door.

Her lip caught on her bottom teeth for a moment, and she looked up at him, her eyes swimming in indecision for the first time since she’d arrived. “I’m looking forward to meeting your son.”

He knew what had put that indecision there, and knew he could offer no promises that everything would always be safe and she’d never experience pain or anguish. So he could only tell her what he told himself every single night when he hung up the phone after sharing the monsters-go-away poem with Jared.

“It’s worth it. For as long as you have it, no matter what might happen down the road, loving like that is worth it.”

She nodded once, not making any promises, not claiming to be ready to dive headfirst into all the things she’d been telling herself she didn’t want. Kids, marriage.

They had love. That was the start. And for now, that was enough.

*  *  *  *  *

Don’t miss the other titles…available NOW!

Pitch Black

Black At Heart

And coming in 2014:

Black Out!

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Here are sneak-peeks at the next two books in the Black CATs series…both available NOW!

New team member Alec Lambert is trying hard to reclaim his FBI career after being shot and nearly fired from the BAU. His first case: to get inside the head of the Professor, a diabolical killer luring his victims via the latest Internet scams.

Teaming up with Samantha Dalton, a Web scam expert, he begins to track down the wily killer. Neither of them realizes the Professor has a new victim in his sights: Samantha herself!

H
ello.
I am the former finance minister for a once great nation. I am writing to you about an issue of utmost urgency.

Recent upheavals in my country make it impossible for me to retrieve monies hidden by my government. I write to you begging for assistance. I am needing a partner to help me retrieve the monies. I can trace the funds but must work through a third party for my own safety and the safety of my family.

In exchange for your help you will be paid half of what is recovered, or ten million dollars. Please respond to me to arrange the transfer of money. Your Friend, Dr. Malik Waffi

“I still can’t believe
you fell for this bullshit.”

Ignoring his passenger, Jason Todd clenched the steering wheel of his father’s Buick, which he fought to keep on the dark, slippery road. His heart pounded furiously as he strained to see through the snow-streaked windshield. His short, jerky breaths punctuated his excitement.