Authors: Lora Leigh
“Of course you can.” His eyes finally narrowed on her as-sessingly. “I have a heli-jet waiting outside town. We can be out of here in half an hour.”
“I told you, I can’t leave.” She gritted her teeth over the words as she felt her mind rebelling at the idea.
God, what was wrong with her? The mating heat was supposed to affect her body, not make her stupid. Of course she could leave; she just didn’t want to. That was all. Freedom was a powerful lure.
“I just have to stick this out six months…”
“You won’t make it six weeks before your enemies find you,” he bit out. “The change in hair color is a nice touch. The makeup is nice. But you’ll be found, Harmony. Eventually.”
“Not if I’m careful.” And she did know how to be careful.
Dane grunted as he watched her closely.
“We can get you out, Harmony. In a matter of months we can figure out how to hack the Bureau’s computers and delete your files…”
“Jonas won’t let me go that easily. It’s better to play this game out and have it done with.”
“He’s set you up to fail, sweetheart…”
As though she weren’t very well aware of that.
“I don’t have time for this.” She shook her head quickly. “I have to head back to the department and get that stupid GPS fixed. I can’t run this time, Dane. If I stick it out, then he’ll wipe the records.”
“You’re fooling yourself, Harmony.” His smile was knowing. “He’s trapped you. I can get you out of it.”
She took another step back. For years he had always been there, pulling her ass out of the fire. He had rescued her, saved her life more than once, and always seemed to know exactly where she was, and what she was doing at any given time.
And she had never known why. She had never really questioned why until lately.
Suddenly the haze of hormones, hunger for Lance and confusion cleared from her mind. She stared around the deserted area, the hairs at the back of her neck lifting before her gaze returned to him.
“You know I’m being watched,” she said, certain of that fact.
“Of course.” His smile was supremely confident. “But not at the moment. Go on, little girl, run back to your sheriff. I’ll hang around awhile and watch your back. Just like I always have.” It sounded like a threat.
“I’d prefer you leave.” She had a feeling things were about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.
“I’m sure you would, baby.” He smiled again as he swung into the SUV. “I’m sure you would. Unfortunately, I think my curiosity has been aroused.”
With that, he closed the door, engaged the engine and drove away.
Not for the first time in the past week, Harmony cursed.
CHAPTER 10
Davy wouldn’t let her touch the Raider.
Harmony strode briskly from the department’s garage, along the sidewalk that led to the Sheriff’s Department, as irritation began to surge inside her.
The aging excuse for a mechanic was a prime candidate for an ass-kicking with his smarmy smart-assed comments and smug smiles. She had a feeling he was deliberately screwing with the GPS, and if she found out he was, she was going to clean that excuse for a garage with his ponytailed head.
Dumb twit.
She was at the edge of her patience for the day and she knew it. Dane’s arrival was a complication she could ill afford, and the implications of it were worrisome. Dane could cause problems. And she couldn’t figure out why he was there.
She turned the corner and strode quickly to the steps that led to the single-story adobe building that housed Lance’s offices. She took the steps two at a time, ignoring the looks she received from several bystanders. It was the uniform. All black, with her holster lying low on her thigh and the Bureau of Breed Affairs insignia on the sleeve, it was guaranteed to draw attention. Attention she really didn’t need.
She strode through the lobby, waving at Lenny Blanchard as he shot her a smile; then she moved purposefully for Lance’s office.
She gripped the doorknob and pushed her way inside.
“Lance, that excuse for a mechanic of yours is going to get on my last nerve,” she snapped as she directed a fierce glare across his desk at him. “And the next time he calls me kitty, he’s going to be missing a ponytail.”
The new scent hit her then. It took a minute, because Lance’s scent seemed to overwhelm everything else at first.
Her hand fell to her weapon as she turned, facing Jonas as he lounged against the wall, his eyes narrowed on her, his hands shoved into the pockets of his silk slacks.
“I see your disposition hasn’t changed,” he remarked as Lance came to his feet, moving around the desk and nearing Harmony.
“I can come back later.” She tossed Lance a furious look. He could have warned her before she came stomping in here.
“He just arrived.” Lance stopped when he was within several feet of her, obviously placing himself to intercede if she decided to confront Jonas.
“Fine. When you’re finished with him, let me know. I need a cup of coffee anyway.”
“Coffee makes the symptoms of the mating heat worse, Harmony,” Jonas announced as she turned for the door. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Pasting a smile on her face, she turned back to him as she gave Lance a sultry look.
“Does that mean we’ll get to leave early?” she whispered to Lance.
Lance’s lips twitched. “Maybe.”
“Hmm, maybe I’ll have several cups of coffee then. Let me know when you’re done.”
She would go into caffeine withdrawal before touching another cup of coffee now. She was just managing to get a handle on the needs clawing inside her and wreaking havoc on her control. She wasn’t about to make it worse.
“Harmony, you haven’t been told you could leave the meeting,” Jonas announced as she turned to leave again.
She inhaled slowly, refusing to turn back to him as she gripped the door handle and turned it quickly.
“There was a murder last night in Pinon,” Jonas said softly. “A bartender suspected of kidnapping and raping several young women in the area. His throat was slit.”
She turned back to him slowly.
“Is that why you showed up here?” Lance snapped before she could say anything.
Harmony looked up at him in surprise. He was furious. His eyes were narrowed on Jonas, his body tense as his fingers wrapped around her wrist to pull her to him.
“It has her M.O.” Jonas shrugged, his gaze sharpening on Lance’s hold. “He was killed behind the bar after closing and left for his employer to find the next day. If fits her previous kills.”
“Suspected kills,” she reminded him sweetly. “You have no proof and I denied the charges.”
“So you did.” He inclined his head mockingly. “But we both know the truth. Where were you last night?”
“With me,” Lance snapped. “All night.”
“He knows that, Lance,” Harmony murmured softly. “He has a tail on me, and I’m betting they’re watching the house at night as well.”
Amusement gleamed in Jonas’s gray eyes. “And we both know how good you are at slipping away.” He straightened from the wall, though he kept his hands in his pockets.
Who said Jonas couldn’t be smart when the need was there?
“Get the hell out of my office, Jonas,” Lance growled then. “You have no proof Harmony wasn’t with me last night, and I have all the proof I need that she
was
there. You no longer have any jurisdiction over her.”
“Have you been to the crime scene?” she asked Jonas.
Jonas nodded abruptly.
“Was my scent there?”
His lips tightened. She had him there and he knew it. Unfortunately, though, her scent hadn’t been at several of her kills in the past, and he was aware of that as well. Death had been amazingly adept in hiding herself.
“No. Your scent wasn’t there,” he admitted, his voice darkening in anger.
“Then you have no right to accuse me.” She smiled back in triumph. “Looks like you need to find your killer elsewhere.”
Jonas’s gaze slid to Lance then, his eyes mocking as his lips quirked with sardonic amusement.
“She doesn’t heel worth shit, does she?” Jonas asked him with an amused indulgence.
“She’s not an animal, so I don’t expect her to.” Lance retained his hold on her as though he worried she would go for the gun strapped to her side. It was tempting, but her self-control was actually better than that.
Jonas grunted before asking, “The mating is going well then?”
Lance’s anger spiked immediately. Harmony could smell it, burning like a hot flame with the potential to turn into a conflagration.
“Jonas, your games are getting tiresome,” Lance warned him quietly.
Jonas’s lips quirked as he watched them closely, looking for weakness. Harmony could feel him probing at them, searching for a break to exploit.
“As I said earlier, I just stopped by to check on the situation.” He shrugged then, as though a brotherly visit should be commonplace. “I’ll leave you to your work.” His gaze sharpened on Harmony. “I would definitely get the GPS fixed on the Raider if I were you. We wouldn’t want any complications to arise from that.”
He nodded mockingly before lifting his hands from his pockets and striding to the door. Harmony didn’t bother to bid him farewell as he left the room, but she kept her eye on him until the door closed behind his broad back.
“One of these days, I’m going to kick him out of my office,” Lance mused as he released her arm. “Now, what’s the problem with Davy?”
“We need to go to Pinon.” She waved the question about the mechanic away. “I need to see the crime scene.”
Lance breathed out roughly. “I’ve already thought of that. I’ll contact Sheriff Grasse and inform her we’re heading that way.”
“This won’t have been a coincidence, Jonas knows that,” she finally pointed out. The implications of the murder had hit her the moment Jonas informed them of it. “Someone suspects who I am.”
“Then we’ll just have to figure out who it is,” his voice rasped as it lowered, his drowsy, hungry gaze eating her up. “Go get your report written up while I get hold of Sheriff Grasse and then we’ll head to Pinon. I’d like to get back before it gets too late.”
———
Sheriff Grasse was a forty-something go-getter with a tough attitude and kind hazel eyes. Crow’s-feet crinkled at the corners of her eyes, and laugh lines indented the sides of her lips. But she was all business when Harmony and Lance pulled in behind the small cement building that housed Drink Em Up, a small bar just inside the county line.
She stepped from her dark blue Raider, pulling her glasses from her eyes as she leaned against the door.
“Lance, it’s good to see you again.” Her smile was friendly as they stepped toward her.
“Katie, how’s Ben and the kids?” Lance smiled back, his familiarity with her obvious.
Harmony stood silently as they exchanged pleasantries, maintaining her impatience in the face of social niceties. This was another plus on the side of the assassin. Death had never asked a mark if the kids were doing well.
“Katie, meet Harmony Lancaster, she’s on temporary assignment from the Bureau of Breed Affairs.” Lance finally introduced them. “Harmony, Katie Grasse, Otero County sheriff.”
Harmony nodded coolly. “Can I see the crime scene now?” she asked quietly.
Sheriff Grasse’s eyes gleamed in amusement.
“She reminds me of that Wyatt fellow, Lance,” she drawled. “All business. Is it a Breed thing?”
“It’s a Breed thing,” Harmony answered for him. “And Jonas is a pussycat. You just have to know how to handle him.”
The other woman blinked at her in surprise before a spurt of laughter left her lips.
“Go on then.” She shrugged. “The investigation unit has already been over it. I doubt there’s much left.”
Harmony moved away from Lance and Sheriff Grasse, following the scent of blood to the dumpster just behind the door.
“Did you bring the pictures of the crime scene?” She knew Lance had requested them.
Bending her knees, she stooped by the bloody stain on the blacktop, calculating the angle and depth of the wound based on what she saw there.
“Here you go.” The file was passed to her with a firm snap.
Opening the manila folder, Harmony stared at the corpse. Plain features, a sharp nose, and his throat had definitely been cut. The angle was wrong for one of her kills though. Something Jonas should have noticed.
“Your killer was taller than the deceased,” she murmured. “How tall was the victim?”
“Six feet.” The Otero sheriff knelt beside her. “How can you tell?”
“The angle of the cut.” She ran her nail over the wound. “According to the height of the killer to the victim, the wounds will be different. The depth of the cut at pressure points is significant. If the bartender was six feet, then your killer was a few inches taller. Perhaps six-three or -four.”
“The coroner is still examining the body, but your Bureau director went over it as well. He didn’t mention this,” Grasse commented.
“He doesn’t know knives like I do.” Harmony handed the file back to her. “I would guess the weapon was a Special Forces K-bar.”
The killer could in fact be a Breed. Or a Council soldier. Special training protocols were developed for the Breeds simply to be able to identify their kills.
Harmony pulled a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and snapped one on before reaching down. She ran her fingers over the bloodstain before lifting them to her nose. The putrid scent of old blood was all she found.
Grimacing, she stood to her feet before narrowing her eyes on the stain.
“Did the crime unit find any evidence?”
“Nothing. Other than the blood and the body, we don’t have jack.” The sheriff sighed. “We were hoping having a Breed check it out would give us a lead.”
Harmony shook her head. Whoever had made the kill had been careful, and especially careful to use her M.O.
“It’s similar to several kills across the States in the past few years,” Grasse pointed out then. “Suspected molesters that law enforcement officials hadn’t been able to gather proof against. We could have a serial vigilante on our hands.”
Or a copycat with an agenda.
Harmony lifted her eyes to Lance then, watching his head tilt, concentrating. What was he thinking? At times she could have sworn he was hearing something no one else could.