“Have any of their credit cards showed activity in Oregon, or was there any evidence they’d been hunting the New Castle Killer on their own?”
“No,” Watson said. “There’s no evidence to support the idea any of the people who worked that case knew who Del Howe really was, and they certainly didn’t follow him to Oregon.”
“How can you be sure?” Remi cocked her head to one side but didn’t lift her gaze from the phone.
A heavy sigh cut through Watson’s side of the line. “Because they’re all dead.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Dead. Every single one of them.
Remi had ended the call with Jonah Watson more than twenty minutes ago, but she still couldn’t wrap her head around the information he’d shared. The investigators from the New Castle Sheriff’s Department had moved on with their lives after the case that’d destroyed her career had gone cold. They’d been promoted, taken on bigger cases and switched law enforcement agencies, but it hadn’t been enough to keep them safe.
A fire in Nashville, a car accident in Kansas, a suicide in Wisconsin. She stared at the collection of newspaper articles Jonah Watson had sent to her phone. All of them. Gone. Every single investigator connected to the New Castle Killer case had been murdered, including the dispatchers who’d taken the 9-1-1 calls from family members and roommates who’d discovered the bloody crime scenes. Some were made to look like accidents, some like suicide, some like murder. None had been connected. Until now.
So many innocent lives.
“Remi.” Dylan’s callused hands slid into her peripheral vision as he reached for her from across the table. Dark hair laid flat against his muscular forearms, thick veins fighting to break through the underside of his arm. Rough skin caught on the back of her hand as he curled his fingers around hers, but his effort to anchor her into the moment failed. “It wasn’t your fault. Not any of them. You couldn’t have known.”
“I need the case files for every one of these murders. The killer could’ve left something behind to compare to the evidence scene from the cabin.” Remi shook her head, not entirely sure how to put the pieces together. She’d been trained in homicide investigations, but this seemed almost like a dream. A nightmare. “This is the work of a serial killer. He targeted each of them and methodically planned and executed their murders one by one. All because we weren’t able to find the New Castle Killer.”
“I’ll pull the files from the federal database while you clean up. You’ve been running on fumes since this morning. You’re no good to anyone like this. Take a shower, get some sleep and we can start fresh in the morning.” Dylan released his hand from hers and left behind a warmth she hadn’t realized she’d missed. “We’re going to catch this guy, Sheriff. He’s going to pay for what he’s done. I give you my word.”
He was right. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours since Gresham PD had called her to the scene at the cabin, and the longer she put it off, the less chance she had of not making a mistake on this case. She knew that, but her defense tactics had already been triggered when he’d brought up their previous relationship, and she wasn’t about to show him any kind of vulnerability. Remi shoved to her feet, and the world tilted slightly to one side. “I’m fine.”
Someone had killed all her friends, her coworkers, people she’d trusted and worked beside for years. Someone had hunted them down, was hunting her down. Hunting Dylan down. Her stomach rolled with the last realization. As much as she’d claimed she’d put what’d happened between them behind her, it was impossible to forget how she’d broken through his perfectly honed self-control. How he’d done the same for her. How, when they’d been together, neither of them had had to wear the mask they put on for the rest of the world or to keep up their guard. She’d missed that. Missed him. A flash of an image, of him meeting Del Howe’s fate, shot across her mind, and her knees gave out.
Dylan rushed in to catch her before she collapsed, his chest pressed against hers. Strong arms encircled her as he settled her back into her chair, the spicy hint of his aftershave filling her lungs. “You never were a great liar. You have a tell.”
“No, I don’t.” She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She clutched his arm, ordering her legs to support her, but it was no use. The cracks in her armor had already started to spread. If she didn’t get control of herself, she feared she might break right here in the middle of the damn safe house.
“You bite the inside of your mouth when you’re lying.” That voice, smooth and low, softened the resentment she used to emotionally defend herself against him. Him holding her reminded her too much of what she’d worked to leave behind, and she wasn’t going to give in. Not again. “My guess is you learned to beat a polygraph by forcing your heartbeat to speed up with pain on the control questions, and you never kicked the habit.”
“You can’t possibly know that.” Could he?
“I’ve seen it done enough in my former life as a private investigator, Sheriff, and I know you better than anyone else. I’ve seen who you really are.” Dylan lowered his mouth to her ear, and a shiver ran down her spine. “You can’t lie to me.”
“I’m not a sheriff.” Not anymore.
He helped her regain her balance on her own two feet, his hand still pressed into her lower back. Bands of heat swirled through her and she
