“We weren’t friends.” Hard to be friends with someone he’d surveilled from a safe distance for over a year. Nervous energy shot down his fingers. Del Howe had been alive the last time Dylan had seen him. One piece of hair, one tread from his boot—that was all it would take to swing this investigation in the wrong direction. He had to get out in front of this while he still could. “But it’s possible my DNA might be recovered at the cabin where Del Howe was killed.”
Her exhale brushed against the underside of his chin and heightened his awareness of how close she’d let him get. Folding her arms across her chest, Remi shifted her weight between both feet before her expression collapsed with understanding. “You mean other than the fact you were there to walk the scene less than an hour ago.”
“I warned the owners what kind of man they’d let stay in their rental. They were only too happy to give me a key to the place to make sure nothing had gone missing or that he wasn’t doing anything illegal. I waited until Howe drove down the mountain before I went inside. I swear. He was alive when I left. I didn’t kill him.” Would she believe him? He pulled back his shoulders. “I was searching for proof he was the man I’ve been looking for, and when I saw the photos of you in the closet, I knew I had the right guy.”
“What do you mean what kind of man they let stay there?” Remi unfolded her arms and stepped closer to him. Scanning the station on the other side of the window, she lowered her voice so as not to divert Captain Paulson or any other officers’ attention their way. “Who is Del Howe, and what does any of this have to do with those surveillance photos of me?”
“I first caught on to him in Delaware. I had reason to believe he’d kill, so I’ve been investigating him in my free time. Small stuff at first. I had a PI friend in New Castle run a background check then I cashed in a favor from the DA to put a tail on him.”
Dylan prepared for the coming lecture from his superior. He’d been running an investigation behind his chief’s back, using his position as a marshal without jurisdiction. Any evidence he’d collected against Del Howe wouldn’t have stood up in court, but Dylan couldn’t let the bastard get away. Not again. “Highway Patrol reported he’d crossed into Oregon three days ago.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Her lips parted, homing his gaze to that full mouth he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind all these years. Remi turned away from him, a humorless laugh rising up her throat. Ice-blue eyes settled on him. “Why go to all this effort behind my back and not brief me on the details before he became the subject of a murder investigation? What did you suspect Del Howe was guilty of before he was killed?”
“I wasn’t going to let him get to you, Sheriff.” In truth, past anger and guilt had driven him to this moment, but he wasn’t going to apologize for keeping her safe. No matter how much distance she’d physically and emotionally put between them.
“Me? I’ve never met that man before in my life,” she said. “Why would he have reason to target me?”
Dylan forced himself to keep the aggression out of his voice. “Because Del Howe is—was—the New Castle Killer.”
CHAPTER TWO
Del Howe was the killer who’d gotten away.
How was that possible? Remi stepped out of Dylan’s reach. She’d worked that case for a full year before the people had decided the town needed a new investigator on the case, and not once had a suspect fitting Del Howe’s name or description come across her desk. “We had solid suspects we looked into on that case. None of them Del Howe. How can you be sure the victim Gresham PD discovered this morning is the New Castle Killer?”
“You mean apart from the fact the guy followed you here all the way from Delaware, had surveillance photos of you taped to the inside of his closet and was murdered with the same MO the New Castle Killer used?” Dark hair caught the dim lighting coming through the blinds. With his face partially in shadow, she didn’t have to see his expression to read how hard it was for Dylan to keep the lid on all that rage and guilt. He blamed himself for the deaths of those three young men, and, in a sense, he was right. If the former private investigator had taken the third victim’s concern for his safety seriously, Dylan probably could’ve gotten to him before the New Castle Killer had. They’d never found his remains, but evidence at the scene had confirmed Tad Marrow had been bound, cut and murdered by the killer they’d been trying to stop.
Dylan unpocketed his phone, the light from the screen failing to chase back the haunted shadows etched into his features. He handed her the device and swiped through a series of photos dated over a year ago. “The buildings where all three victims lived in Delaware were inspected by the same man around the time of each of their deaths.”
“Del Howe?” The signature was clear. How many times had she gone through those files only to end right back where she’d started: without motive or a viable suspect. Too many. That was why the people had forced her to step down as sheriff. She’d failed to protect her county. But where Remi had left the past behind after being removed from
