Holt pulled into the parking lot to the side of the station, and I fought the urge to squirm in my seat. I’d had that twitchy feeling ever since we’d gotten in the car. It felt as if Holt’s eyes were on me, assessing, surveying each injury and scar so he could sew up every one.
But they hadn’t been. His fingers had been linked with mine, but his head was on a swivel, eyes scanning the road and the streets of downtown. Likely looking for a bogeyman that could jump out at any moment.
I breathed deeply. As I let the air out, I imagined pulling on a mask. One where people wouldn’t ask me if I was okay a million times today. One where everyone would forget that I’d let shock completely take me under yesterday. As far as I could remember, there had barely been anyone in the office by the time we left. My greatest performance would have to be with Abel.
“What are you doing?”
My gaze snapped to Holt. “What do you mean?”
His finger circled the air in front of my face. “Erasing everything you’re feeling. Hiding from the world.”
Of course, he saw that. He’d always seen it all. Every single time I found myself drowning. Except the one time I needed him the most.
“Sometimes, the world doesn’t have the right to your feelings. It doesn’t mean you’re hiding. Just that some emotions are only for the people you trust most.”
A flash of pain streaked across Holt’s face. “You did that the first day I saw you.”
I didn’t look away. Not from Holt or his hurt. “I did. But I didn’t keep anything from you yesterday. You saw it all.” I’d let my walls tumble to the ground and left myself raw and exposed.
Holt’s hands framed my face. “Thank you.”
I leaned forward, brushing my lips against his. I couldn’t fight the pull to soothe Holt. It was too strong.
His forehead pressed to mine. “We should go in there.”
“I know.” But it was the last thing I wanted to do. In this moment, I wanted to hide—somewhere there were no shootings or cruelty or pain. Where everything was easy, and life always worked out.
Holt sighed as he let me go, turning off the engine and climbing out of his SUV. I reluctantly followed suit. His hand found mine the second I was out of the vehicle. I squeezed his fingers and then tried to let go. He wouldn’t release me.
“Holt,” I hissed.
He glanced down at me. “You’re not hiding us, are you?”
My jaw went slack. “No, but I don’t need anyone knowing my business either.” Because if he decided to leave, Holt wouldn’t have to face countless nosy people around town. I would.
“You’re right, it’s none of their business.” He still didn’t let go of my hand.
“Holt…”
“Not going to pretend I’m not in love with you, Wren. Missed touching you. Sometimes, I’d be walking and swear I felt your hand in mine.”
Everything inside me jerked as if I were in a car, and the driver had slammed on the brakes. It was a painful lurch that demanded attention.
“Oh.”
It was the only thing I could say.
Holt dipped his chin and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Yeah.”
He held the front door to the station for me but still didn’t let go of my hand. I didn’t try to shake it free. As we stepped inside, my skin started to itch at the feel of so many eyes on me. I did my best to ignore the sensation as Holt led us toward Lawson’s office.
Clint and Amber were talking in hushed tones as we passed. Clint’s gaze zeroed in on our joined hands. His eyes flashed, but he didn’t say a word.
My stomach churned, but maybe it was better this way. Rip the Band-Aid right off. He could find someone that actually suited him.
Holt came to a stop outside Lawson’s closed door and knocked.
“Come in.”
Holt opened the door and ushered me inside, still not letting go of my hand.
Lawson looked exhausted—stubble coating his face and dark circles rimming his eyes. But when his gaze caught on our hands, his mouth curved. He was polite enough not to say anything, though.
Nash was not.
“Holy shit.” Nash let out a hoot from the couch. “It’s a Christmas miracle in the middle of spring.”
“Nash…” Holt warned.
“What?” Nash asked with mock innocence. “I can’t be happy for my brother?”
“You are welcome to your happiness, but you are not welcome to give Wren a hard time.”
Nash’s gaze went from Holt to me, a devilish grin playing on his lips. “Little Williams, you don’t look too rested. Could someone have kept you up all—?”
Lawson threw a pen at Nash.
“Ow! That was uncalled for, big brother. I could report you to HR for an abusive work environment.”
Lawson shook his head. “Good luck with that. Morning, Wren. Holt.”
“Morning,” I said, my cheeks still fire engine red.
“We wanted to see if there were any updates,” Holt said, bringing us back to the point.
All humor fled Lawson’s face. “We don’t have much. A figure in a black hoodie, fleeing the McHenry home and heading into the woods.”
Holt glanced between Lawson and Nash. “This one’s different. The other was through a window. This is up close and personal.”
“Someone’s getting more comfortable with killing,” Nash said, shadows swirling in his eyes.
Nausea swept through me at such callous disregard for human life. “The officers were right? Mrs. McHenry didn’t make it?”
Lawson shook his head. “They called it at the scene.”
I didn’t know if that was a kindness given that Mrs. McHenry wouldn’t have had anyone left. I had to hope that she and Gretchen were together somewhere and that they were at peace, even if it was far too soon.
“Who are you bringing in for questioning?” Holt asked.
Lawson and Nash shared a look.
Holt let out a growl.
“You’re not police,” Lawson said. He turned his focus to me. “And neither are you.”
I stared back at him. “Maybe not, but I could be on some asshole’s hit list, so I’d say that entitles me to a little information. And it’s not like I won’t see whoever you bring in.”
Holt’s hand twitched in mine, holding me tighter.
“Little Williams has a point,” Nash said.
Lawson blew out a breath. “We’re talking to a lot of different people. Everyone with a connection to the shootings years ago and everyone who was in the vicinity of the recent ones. But we aren’t bringing anyone in for an interrogation just yet. We’re also contacting all of those who survived the shooting ten years ago and warning them to be cautious. But we’re asking them not to spread that around.”
I ran that over in my mind. “You don’t want to spook anyone.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t want panic in my community, and I don’t want whoever did this to cover their tracks any better than they already are,” Lawson agreed.
I gripped Holt’s hand tighter as I searched for the words I needed. “What if there was a third shooter?”
I hadn’t talked about my suspicions since that third and final conversation with the police ten years ago. The acting chief then had made me feel like a hysterical child whose mind couldn’t be trusted. And I’d started to believe him.
“I know the doctors said that I might have been confused because of the blood loss and trauma, but I swore there was a third person in the house that night.”
Lawson leaned forward in his chair. “I thought you said you were mistaken. That it was only two.”
“The cops back then… They made me doubt everything I remembered if it didn’t fit with their narrative.”
“Assholes,” Holt muttered.
Lawson sent him a quelling look. “Trust me. I’m not a fan of how they handled things back then either. But they were under a hell of a lot of pressure to lock this one up and throw away the key. That led to them forcing things where they probably shouldn’t have. The truth has its own timeline.”
But the time it took to get there could sometimes do irreparable harm. They knew that better than most because they’d seen Roan be destroyed by questions over whether he had been involved. It didn’t matter that none of us believed it. That suspicion had changed him, and he hadn’t been the same since.
Nash studied me. “Randy and Paul always swore up and down that it was only the two of them. No one else. Don’t you think they’d want their partner doing time with them?”
I pulled my hand from Holt’s, and he let me go this time as if he sensed that I needed freedom to move. I twisted my fingers together as I rocked from the back of my heels to the balls of my feet. “I’ve played that night over and over in my head—even when it was the last thing I wanted to think about. I heard someone downstairs. Abel had told me the police were on their way, and I thought it was them, that they were sneaking upstairs. I thought I was going to be okay.”
A muscle in Holt’s jaw ticked wildly as he gripped the back of a chair.
I didn’t let it stop me. I had to get it out. “I heard them coming up the stairs and then heard someone say, ‘Where the hell is Holt? We need them both.’”
The room around me went wired. I’d never told anyone but the police exactly what I’d heard. I’d never recounted any of this to Holt. Every time I’d tried to talk about what had happened, he’d shut me down, saying it wasn’t good to rehash it all.
I turned to him. “I was glad you weren’t there,” I whispered. “I never would’ve made it if something had happened to you.”
So many emotions blazed across Holt’s face. They moved so quickly, I could barely track one before it morphed into the next. Then he was moving. He pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m right here, Cricket.”
Hope flickered to life in my chest. It was a hope that terrified me, but I couldn’t pull away. I gripped his shirt, my hands fisting there. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“We need to go back over the original case,” Nash said.
I turned in Holt’s arms, facing Lawson and Nash, but Holt didn’t let me go. The heat of his body seeped into my back and felt far too comforting. “It was ten years ago.”
Lawson began typing on his keyboard. “You never know what we might find. We’ve still got all the evidence and records filed. I’ll have them brought up so we can go over everything.”
“Want an extra set of eyes?” Holt asked.
Lawson shook his head. “I’ll keep you in the loop, but we can’t have you in the room. If we do find something, having you there could call chain of custody into question.”
Holt’s jaw worked but he nodded. “Call me if you find anything.”
“I will.”
Holt turned me back to him, brushing the hair out of my face. “I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift.”
“Thanks.”
“Remember, nowhere alone.”
I made a face at him. “I know. And I will be surrounded by cops all day. I think I’ll be safe.”
“We’ll make sure Little Williams doesn’t get into any trouble,” Nash said with a smirk.
Lawson sent Nash a quelling look and then turned back to me. “Holt’s right about being careful. We don’t know if the footprints outside your place are related to this. But until we know otherwise, we have to assume they are.”
My stomach pitched, and Holt sent a glare in Lawson’s direction. I worked to keep the worry off my face. “I’ll be cautious. I promise. But right now, I need to get to work.”
Holt lowered his head to brush his lips across mine. “Call me if you need me.”
I swallowed the ball of emotion gathering in my throat. How often had I wanted to do just that? I would’ve given anything to hear Holt’s voice on the other end of the line countless times. “Okay.”
I forced myself to take a step back. “I should get to my desk.”
Holt nodded. “I’ll walk you.”
We started out of the room, and all eyes were instantly on us. Only Amber approached. “What did the chief say? Are they bringing in Joe Sullivan?”
My stomach cramped. “I don’t think he’s any more of a suspect than anyone else is.”
Amber glared at me, and her brown eyes sparked with some brighter color. “I thought you of all people would push for justice. Joe Sullivan is just like his brother, and everyone knows it.”
“That sounds more like a witch hunt than justice to me. Don’t you think Joe has been through enough?”
Redness crept up Amber’s throat and stained her cheeks. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’d defend him?”
“I’m not defending anyone. I’m just saying that Lawson is following the evidence, and so far, nothing points to Joe.”
Amber stared daggers at me. “Have you forgotten what they put you through? What they cost you?” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “Or maybe you don’t give a damn because you didn’t die that day. Some people weren’t that lucky.”
Before I could get another word out, she spun on her heel and tore out of the station. Clint stared after his partner, wincing. “I’m sorry, Wren. She’s been torn up lately. These shootings are bringing everything back.”
“You need to have a word with your partner,” Holt growled.
Clint’s gaze hardened as he turned to Holt. “You’ve been back two minutes. I don’t think you have a right to demand that I do anything.”
“Guys,” I said, trying to stop things before they escalated. “Let’s take a breath.” I lifted my gaze to Clint. “I know she’s hurting. I don’t want to make that worse, and I know I usually do. I’ll do what I can to keep my distance. But Holt’s right, you need to talk to her. This obsession with Joe isn’t right.”
Clint’s focus drifted to the back door that Amber had torn through. “I know. I’ve tried. She doesn’t want to hear me.”
“So, keep trying. We all need to be focused on finding the person truly behind these attacks.”
Because if we didn’t, someone else would die.
