Of course he had. Because that was the kind of man Dylan Cove was, the kind to think about the consequences of his actions and how those same actions would affect everyone in his life. The kind to never give up, to complete his mission, to do whatever it took to solve the case. It was what had made him a great private investigator and one of the reasons she’d hired him to help her work the New Castle Killer case.
It was his dedication to the job that had caught her attention and had led to the most passionate weeks of her life. Then it had all come to an abrupt halt.
After the people had publicly called for her resignation, she hadn’t been able to face him, to bear the weight of her failure to protect her county. So she’d left. She’d taken a job with the US Marshals Service, worked to forget her previous life and risen up the ranks until she’d been assigned to head up the Oregon division. Ending their relationship—or whatever it’d been between them—had just been part of starting over.
Until he’d walked into her office six months ago, asking her to help him make up for letting a killer slip through their fingers. He was a good marshal but an even better investigator, and she would need his help to prove she wasn’t the one who’d killed Del Howe.
“You were starting over here. You had a good thing going. I didn’t want to be the one to screw that up.” Dylan followed her retreat, closing the small space between them, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. He’d always had that effect on her, always keeping her off-balance and grounded at the same time, and she didn’t know what to do about it other than to pretend he didn’t have this hold on her.
Of all the people she’d kept at a professional distance, he’d blown past her guard, gotten under her skin, made her believe she could be more than the washed-up sheriff who’d let a killer get away. He slid his hands up her arms, hiking the cuffs of her sleeves higher, and studied the designs peeking out from underneath.
Tattoos. Three names of the victims she hadn’t been able to help inked in block letters. Part of her. She’d had an appointment to have the names removed when she’d come to Oregon, but the need to remember her failure had been too strong.
Smoothing his thumb along her inner wrist, Dylan brought that mesmerizing gray gaze to hers. “I know why you left, Remi. Hell, I don’t even blame you for not telling me before you took the job with USMS, but I knew it wasn’t over. Not for him.”
A trail of sensation burned up her arms, but as much as she wanted to lean into it, to remember what it’d felt like to drown the nightmares that had followed her from Delaware, there was a killer outside these walls. Waiting.
Remi shrugged out of his reach. “I can think of any number of people who’d have motive to want the New Castle Killer dead, but they would’ve had to know who he really was. They would’ve had to connect the elevator inspections to the victims’ abduction dates, same as you. Did you tell anyone about Del Howe? About who he really was?”
“No. Like I said, I didn’t want any part of my personal investigation to come back on you or anyone else in the division.” He spread his fingers wide at his sides, a glimmer of disappointment in his eyes.
Or was that her imagination?
“We never released the details of how the New Castle Killer tortured and killed his victims to the media during the investigation, but that didn’t stop some of them from leaking. Whoever came for Del Howe had intimate knowledge of the crime and knew where to find him.” She had to think this through. Because despite the theory that Del Howe had been in all three buildings around the same time each victim disappeared, it wasn’t proof the man in the cabin had been the New Castle Killer. The only way to get that would be to dig back into the files. Her stomach revolted. “I believe you when you say you didn’t kill him, but I need to know if there is anything else you’re keeping from me.”
Tension flared across his shoulders and up through the tendons in Dylan’s neck. A hint of hesitation chased back the disappointment that with her next breath had vanished. Another trick of the shadows? “I’ve told you everything. I got rid of my vehicle’s tracks when I headed back down the mountain after searching the cabin two days ago, but there’s still a chance CSU can place me inside. DA Madison Gray will be able to confirm my call to ask for her help, and the cabin’s owners can tell you I had their permission to search the premises.”
“I’ll call Madison and the homeowners to confirm in order to eliminate you as a suspect, but you’ll need to give your statement and an alibi for the timeframe Del Howe was murdered.” Hands on her hips, she scanned the movements of the officers on the other side of the window. An itch climbed up her spine. No matter how much she wanted to forget her years on the force, there was a part of her that’d missed it. A strong exhale escaped up her throat. “Gresham PD has jurisdiction over this case. Once we have signed statements from the DA and the cabin’s owners, you’ll turn everything you have on Del Howe over
