Cold Spite, page 26
part #1 of Cold Justice® - Most Wanted Series
He jerked the material of her panties impatiently, and they gave way with a ripping sound. His tongue worked her agonizingly slowly, cruising the folds of her vulva, devouring her until she shook. His hand pushed the cup of her bra up, his fingers finding her hard nipple and rolling it with the exact amount of pressure that sent waves shooting from her breast to her sex. His mouth sucked on her clit, never letting up, and then she was flying, trembling, flinging herself up and out into the darkness—and it was just like she remembered. The pleasure, the euphoria.
She wanted more. Her hands reached for his belt, and she quickly unbuckled it. He leaned back to get rid of his pants, and she unhooked her bra and tossed it into the front seat.
She sat up and straddled him, placing her hands on his shoulders.
“Oh, I have definitely dreamed about this.” His hands skimmed her body, touching her breasts, her face, bringing her close enough to kiss her deeply, thoroughly.
His hands settled on the cheeks of her ass. “This ass might be my favorite part of you.”
“You’re an ass guy?” She chuckled. She hadn’t expected that.
He squeezed and brought her forward so the center of her brushed against his erection. “Only this ass.” He nuzzled her ear. “I don’t have any protection on me, but I had the all-clear at my last physical. I haven’t been with anyone since.”
She nipped his jaw, grateful that he still thought to ask. It was a risk, but as she hadn’t been with anyone in too many years to mention, it was a slim one. Cas wouldn’t lie to her about this.
“We don’t need a condom.” Her body ached for him, and she didn’t want to wait. If she waited, she might lose her nerve. She slid her hand down his hard length, skin as soft as silk over rigid flesh.
He groaned then squeezed her ass and brought her closer to him. “Don’t tease me. Lilah. I can’t take it.”
His thighs widened and forced hers farther apart, bringing her down so her opening kissed the tip of his erection.
His fingers dug into her flesh, and she could feel a fine tremor moving through his entire body. Those unusual yellow eyes held hers. Then he gripped her knees and eased them slowly toward him, and she sank down, biting her lip at the exquisite sensation of being filled.
She started moving, watching him as she did so. Watching what she did to him.
He took her nipple into his mouth, shooting another wave that sparked through her body to her core. He started speaking to her in Spanish then, and she didn’t know what he said, but it was sexy as hell.
He grabbed her hips, and he was thrusting up into her and hitting that spot that made her cry out again as another orgasm shot through her and exploded like fireworks inside her body. Cascade after cascade of pleasure rushed through her. And then he went taut beneath her, and he held her so tightly as he came inside her that she swore she’d have bruises tomorrow.
He exhaled and his muscles lost all their tension. He stared up at her, and she stared back.
The sex had been incredible—just as she’d remembered—but she wasn’t sure it solved anything. Perhaps it didn’t have to.
He hooked her hair behind her ear. “I’d like to do that again in a bed sometime soon.”
She inhaled sharply as he rocked inside her. “How soon?”
Chapter Forty-Three
Cas closed the door of Quentin Savage’s townhouse and grabbed Delilah when she would have walked into the kitchen to find food. He pushed her against the wall. The only thing he was hungry for was her.
She wanted to know he still desired her.
How could she ever doubt it?
He pushed the blazer down over her shoulders but trapped her arms there. He ran his unshaven jaw over her neck and ear, feeling her tremble.
He tugged her shirt out of her waistband and undid the buttons one handed, still restraining her with the other hand. Then he unsnapped her jeans and slid the zipper down, easing his hand inside and between her legs to find her sweet heat.
Her head went back, and she bit her lip. He kept the rhythm, pressing the heel of his hand against her clit with every stroke, watching her face, searching for exactly what worked for her.
She started to cry out, but he didn’t stop until she closed her eyes, head thrown back, breathing hard, her flesh spasming around his fingers. She slumped against the wall, but he wasn’t done with her yet. She needed him to convince her he found her attractive? How long did he have? How often could he get inside her?
He took care of their weapons then pushed her shirt and jacket off her shoulders. Then stripped her jeans down her legs, dealing with her boots first. She stood there naked, and he was on his knees in front of her, exactly where he could spend his whole life.
He could see her expression as he leaned forward and slid his tongue over her clit. The scent of her invaded his senses. The taste of her dissolved on his tongue.
Her eyes heated, and she widened her legs in invitation. He accepted. It felt like it had before. Like the only thing that mattered was making her come as often and as hard as possible—and not dying.
He wasn’t sure he could last long enough for her to come again, but he’d passed SEAL training and Hostage Rescue Team selection, so he knew how to set small goals to keep going when the mission seemed impossible.
She whimpered. She’d always been extremely responsive—same way he was extremely responsive to her. To her scent, her looks, her smart brain and terrifying bravery.
She grabbed his hair and twisted it half out of his scalp. That was good. Pain was an excellent distraction from the searing hunger that had built up over the past five years. Once hadn’t been enough. A thousand times would never be enough.
“Cas.”
That was it. That was all she said, but it told him everything as her body shook and trembled around him.
Before she could collapse in a boneless heap, he turned her around and undid his pants, widening her stance from behind and pulling her hips back just enough to slip inside. She groaned as he found her breasts. He moved into her. Over and over, his perfect fantasy, not because of her ass or her breasts, but because this was Delilah and he was touching her again. He was in her life, who knew for how long, but if it was sex she wanted, he would do his best to provide.
Being close to her healed him. Made him feel whole in a way his amazing careers never had. He loved being an operator. Loved the adrenaline rush of fast-roping onto a high-rise or hitting a target at a thousand meters. But that didn’t touch the vulnerable places deep inside him.
She did.
He withdrew and spun her around. Needing to look into her eyes. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around him, as he pressed her into the wall, cradling her fantastic ass as he slid deep inside, over and over again.
“I love you, Delilah. I have always loved you.” She met every thrust, every challenge.
As he held her gaze, he felt his control start to slip. He wondered if she’d ever say it back or if he’d lost that precious gift forever. He would spend a lifetime trying to win her back if she’d let him.
He saw on her face that she was close again. “Go over. Go over for me one more time, Lilah.”
Her hands strained against his shoulders as her body pulsed around his. And then he came in a rush of light that made him feel as if he might pass out. He leaned against the wall, cradling the love of his life in his arms and praying they both survived the coming storm.
Chapter Forty-Four
“Want more?” Delilah asked him as he poured over the images of the people who’d visited Joseph Scanlon in prison.
He let his gaze drift suggestively down the oversized FBI T-shirt she’d borrowed from him as she stood barefoot in the kitchen stirring a saucepan of freshly made chicken noodle soup. He’d picked it up from the store yesterday, as he’d remembered she used to like it because she said it reminded her of her mother.
It reminded him of her—like a thousand other things, including his treasured bone-handled balisong now hidden in a drawer in his apartment. He couldn’t even look at it without painful memories rising up inside him.
“Always.” He thrust aside thoughts of the past and deepened his voice suggestively. “You think you can handle it?”
“Soup.” She swatted his calf with a tea towel but blushed a little.
This was a side of her he’d never seen before. They’d never been domestic in their relationship. They’d never been relaxed. They’d been too on edge. Too busy worrying about not blowing their covers and being diced into a thousand pieces of vulture bait.
Even the thought of anyone hurting this woman terrified him, but she wasn’t about to give up her badge unless she was given no other choice. Even if she wasn’t an FBI Agent, he figured she’d be in law enforcement somehow. It was in her blood. Being a beat cop would probably be a lot more dangerous than working white collar crime for the FBI.
“No, thank you.” He needed to reconcile the fact she was as entitled as he was when it came to pursing her career goals and facing danger. “Regarding soup, I’m completely satisfied.”
She shot him a look.
He grinned and held up his hands in defense. “It’s not my fault I can’t get enough of you.”
“Well. Your knee certainly seems better. That’s for sure.” She tried to suppress a smile as she ladled another scoop into her bowl and sat down opposite.
“I have remarkable powers of recovery.” He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy. It was scary, but he refused to think that way. Because if this was all he got, he was going to damn well enjoy it for a change.
“You, sir, are incorrigible.”
“Deprived.”
“Depraved.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he teased.
Her eyes latched onto the images he was looking through. “Anyone stand out to you?”
He sobered at the reminder of why they were here. “A few faces look vaguely familiar but…” He stared at one woman who looked like someone he should know, but it must be a coincidence because he didn’t recognize her or her name. “I don’t think I know them. Yael offered to do a deep dive into their backgrounds?”
“Anyone we flag for her.”
He nodded and began to sort through them again setting aside the people who he suspected Scanlon could have used to help him set up and execute this bold revenge plan, including the woman who looked vaguely familiar but wasn’t.
Delilah finished her food and put her dishes into the dishwasher. Dealt with the pan on the stove. Four nights ago, he’d thought he’d lost her forever, and today he’d been able to get close enough to make love to her. He knew she wasn’t where he was in terms of where they might go from this. She’d given him no words. Made no promises, but he could hardly expect them. Assuming they caught Scanlon and whoever was working with him, Delilah still lived and worked on the other side of the country. He didn’t know how they’d navigate that, but he was willing to try to figure it out this time. If she was.
He sent a quick encrypted email to Yael with a list of ten names to start digging deeper into. Then he stood behind Delilah as she sat working on her laptop. He massaged her tense shoulders. Leaned down to nip the tight muscles on her neck. “Did I persuade you yet that I find you the most desirable woman on the planet?”
She leaned her head to one side. And hummed. “Not a hundred percent…”
He spun her around on the stool and lifted her into his arms. “Well, I need to work on that then.”
She reached over to flip the laptop closed and then got the kitchen light on the way to the bedroom.
Later, when they lay in bed, sated and tangled up in each other, she rested her head against his heart, and he felt as if it might burst from joy.
She traced a finger in a circle over his skin. It tickled but he refused to move in case she stopped.
“Will I ever get my life back, do you think?”
He thought about her burned down home and the loss of her friend and her partner. The fact she’d pretended to be dead rather than trust her colleagues.
Going backwards wouldn’t be easy, but this was Delilah, so anything was possible.
He squeezed her and kissed the top of her head but didn’t give her any false promises. And maybe he didn’t want her to go back to that life. Maybe he selfishly wanted her to begin a new one, with him in it.
She called me first.
Even after everything he’d done to her, she’d called him first.
It gave him hope.
Chapter Forty-Five
It was still dark when early the next morning Delilah paced the satellite offices of Cramer, Parker & Gray, feeling amazing on one level and useless on another. Alex Parker had called her to apologize for being up in DC, but as he’d told her from the get-go, he had his best friend’s wedding to deal with this weekend, and he’d basically given Delilah full-time access to one of his best analyst/hackers, so she couldn’t complain. Other people’s lives didn’t stop because hers had crashed to a halt—not that the past few days had felt static. In fact, the opposite was true. She’d never felt more alive than since she’d been dead.
She crossed her arms on a huff.
She didn’t appreciate the fact that feeling collided with the exact length of time Demarco had been back in her life.
He said he loved her, but he’d told her that before. And he’d still broken her heart. She felt his sincerity in the moment, especially after he’d confessed the abuse that he’d suffered as a child. But she didn’t know what it meant for the two of them. And, like she’d told him, maybe worrying about tomorrow was a fool’s game. Until she proved Scanlon was behind this string of murders, there was no tomorrow. Not for her. She’d always be looking over her shoulder or waiting for a bullet she’d never see coming.
Yael sent her a look.
“Sorry.” She stopped pacing. “I’m not good at doing nothing.”
“I can tell. It must be difficult. I kind of get it, although I can always find something to entertain myself with online.”
“I’m going crazy not being able to work on the task force or know what’s happening.” She shook her head at Yael’s silent offer because it could get her into serious trouble if she was caught or if Delilah let something slip she wasn’t supposed to know. “I need to do something.” She flung out her arms. “That sonofabitch is walking around on parole while people die. Five people in one week, and we have nothing to prove he’s behind any of it yet—which isn’t a reflection on you.” She paused to assure the other woman. “We don’t even know how he’s getting around the country. Oh…” She walked to where Yael sat working on three different monitors at the same time. “Could it be possible he’s flying himself? I mean, he doesn’t have to file a flight plan if he keeps it below a certain altitude, right?”
“I’m not sure, but I can check.” Yael nodded.
“And a lot of those military special forces type learn to fly different kinds of aircraft.”
“Shane was a Green Beret, and I know he can fly a Cessna and is considering learning to fly a helicopter.” Yael agreed. “I’ll start a search for any licenses or ownership of any aircraft in the Scanlon family.”
Delilah nodded. “Thank you.”
A pop-up on Yael’s screen pinged.
“Interesting.” The woman leaned closer. “I have an alert on the name Scanlon for anyone booking commercial flights or train or ferry tickets. One Melody Scanlon just bought a ticket for late this afternoon, traveling from SeaTac to New Orleans. Isn’t that his kid?”
“Yeah, she’s like seven.” Delilah froze. “What about the mother or stepdad. Name is Zimmerman. Nicole and Preston Zimmerman?”
Yael typed and then shook her head. “One ticket. Booked as an unaccompanied minor.”
“She’s sending her kid to stay with a convicted felon she barely knows?” Delilah couldn’t believe it. “Is she out of her mind?”
Yael’s eyes were wide. “Do you think Scanlon would hurt the kid?”
Delilah pressed her lips together. She was scaring the other woman and that wasn’t fair. “According to Lincoln Frazer, no. But he also called him a psychopath, and I don’t think Frazer had him as the primary caregiver when he gave that profile about him not being a danger to his own child.” She began pacing again. “I get that some parents have to send their kids off alone but dammit.”
If they knew the predators that lived among them, they’d never let their kids out of their sight.
“What time does her flight leave?”
Yael checked the screen. “Four-thirty p.m. PT.”
Delilah checked her watch. “I’m going to call Trainer and see if the local agents can talk to the mother ASAP. Persuade her to change her mind.” Although that might enrage Scanlon. “Do you need me here?”
It was obvious she was doing nothing useful except make tea.
“Nope. I can call if I have any updates on the searches I’ve set up.”
Delilah picked up her jacket. “You get anywhere with that prison visitor deep dive?”
Yael popped the last piece of a blueberry muffin into her mouth. “I sent the first couple to both your and Demarco’s emails. Working on the rest now.” She checked her own watch. “I’m heading up to DC after work tonight with Shane, assuming he doesn’t get called out on an op. We were going to make a weekend out of it as the wedding is on Sunday. But if you want me to stay here and work on this—”
The offer hit Delilah like a glancing blow to the nose and drew tears to her eyes. “No. Thank you. No.” Not that it was up to her. She wasn’t the boss. Yael was helping her out, and she was very grateful. “I assume if Joseph is planning to spend time with his kid, then he won’t be busy killing people. You take the weekend with that man of yours. Make sure he spoils you.”
Yael grinned. “You look happier today.”
Delilah rolled her eyes. “That obvious, huh?”
Yael lifted her shoulders in a self-conscious shrug. “I recognize the glow. I hope he groveled appropriately.”
She wanted more. Her hands reached for his belt, and she quickly unbuckled it. He leaned back to get rid of his pants, and she unhooked her bra and tossed it into the front seat.
She sat up and straddled him, placing her hands on his shoulders.
“Oh, I have definitely dreamed about this.” His hands skimmed her body, touching her breasts, her face, bringing her close enough to kiss her deeply, thoroughly.
His hands settled on the cheeks of her ass. “This ass might be my favorite part of you.”
“You’re an ass guy?” She chuckled. She hadn’t expected that.
He squeezed and brought her forward so the center of her brushed against his erection. “Only this ass.” He nuzzled her ear. “I don’t have any protection on me, but I had the all-clear at my last physical. I haven’t been with anyone since.”
She nipped his jaw, grateful that he still thought to ask. It was a risk, but as she hadn’t been with anyone in too many years to mention, it was a slim one. Cas wouldn’t lie to her about this.
“We don’t need a condom.” Her body ached for him, and she didn’t want to wait. If she waited, she might lose her nerve. She slid her hand down his hard length, skin as soft as silk over rigid flesh.
He groaned then squeezed her ass and brought her closer to him. “Don’t tease me. Lilah. I can’t take it.”
His thighs widened and forced hers farther apart, bringing her down so her opening kissed the tip of his erection.
His fingers dug into her flesh, and she could feel a fine tremor moving through his entire body. Those unusual yellow eyes held hers. Then he gripped her knees and eased them slowly toward him, and she sank down, biting her lip at the exquisite sensation of being filled.
She started moving, watching him as she did so. Watching what she did to him.
He took her nipple into his mouth, shooting another wave that sparked through her body to her core. He started speaking to her in Spanish then, and she didn’t know what he said, but it was sexy as hell.
He grabbed her hips, and he was thrusting up into her and hitting that spot that made her cry out again as another orgasm shot through her and exploded like fireworks inside her body. Cascade after cascade of pleasure rushed through her. And then he went taut beneath her, and he held her so tightly as he came inside her that she swore she’d have bruises tomorrow.
He exhaled and his muscles lost all their tension. He stared up at her, and she stared back.
The sex had been incredible—just as she’d remembered—but she wasn’t sure it solved anything. Perhaps it didn’t have to.
He hooked her hair behind her ear. “I’d like to do that again in a bed sometime soon.”
She inhaled sharply as he rocked inside her. “How soon?”
Chapter Forty-Three
Cas closed the door of Quentin Savage’s townhouse and grabbed Delilah when she would have walked into the kitchen to find food. He pushed her against the wall. The only thing he was hungry for was her.
She wanted to know he still desired her.
How could she ever doubt it?
He pushed the blazer down over her shoulders but trapped her arms there. He ran his unshaven jaw over her neck and ear, feeling her tremble.
He tugged her shirt out of her waistband and undid the buttons one handed, still restraining her with the other hand. Then he unsnapped her jeans and slid the zipper down, easing his hand inside and between her legs to find her sweet heat.
Her head went back, and she bit her lip. He kept the rhythm, pressing the heel of his hand against her clit with every stroke, watching her face, searching for exactly what worked for her.
She started to cry out, but he didn’t stop until she closed her eyes, head thrown back, breathing hard, her flesh spasming around his fingers. She slumped against the wall, but he wasn’t done with her yet. She needed him to convince her he found her attractive? How long did he have? How often could he get inside her?
He took care of their weapons then pushed her shirt and jacket off her shoulders. Then stripped her jeans down her legs, dealing with her boots first. She stood there naked, and he was on his knees in front of her, exactly where he could spend his whole life.
He could see her expression as he leaned forward and slid his tongue over her clit. The scent of her invaded his senses. The taste of her dissolved on his tongue.
Her eyes heated, and she widened her legs in invitation. He accepted. It felt like it had before. Like the only thing that mattered was making her come as often and as hard as possible—and not dying.
He wasn’t sure he could last long enough for her to come again, but he’d passed SEAL training and Hostage Rescue Team selection, so he knew how to set small goals to keep going when the mission seemed impossible.
She whimpered. She’d always been extremely responsive—same way he was extremely responsive to her. To her scent, her looks, her smart brain and terrifying bravery.
She grabbed his hair and twisted it half out of his scalp. That was good. Pain was an excellent distraction from the searing hunger that had built up over the past five years. Once hadn’t been enough. A thousand times would never be enough.
“Cas.”
That was it. That was all she said, but it told him everything as her body shook and trembled around him.
Before she could collapse in a boneless heap, he turned her around and undid his pants, widening her stance from behind and pulling her hips back just enough to slip inside. She groaned as he found her breasts. He moved into her. Over and over, his perfect fantasy, not because of her ass or her breasts, but because this was Delilah and he was touching her again. He was in her life, who knew for how long, but if it was sex she wanted, he would do his best to provide.
Being close to her healed him. Made him feel whole in a way his amazing careers never had. He loved being an operator. Loved the adrenaline rush of fast-roping onto a high-rise or hitting a target at a thousand meters. But that didn’t touch the vulnerable places deep inside him.
She did.
He withdrew and spun her around. Needing to look into her eyes. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around him, as he pressed her into the wall, cradling her fantastic ass as he slid deep inside, over and over again.
“I love you, Delilah. I have always loved you.” She met every thrust, every challenge.
As he held her gaze, he felt his control start to slip. He wondered if she’d ever say it back or if he’d lost that precious gift forever. He would spend a lifetime trying to win her back if she’d let him.
He saw on her face that she was close again. “Go over. Go over for me one more time, Lilah.”
Her hands strained against his shoulders as her body pulsed around his. And then he came in a rush of light that made him feel as if he might pass out. He leaned against the wall, cradling the love of his life in his arms and praying they both survived the coming storm.
Chapter Forty-Four
“Want more?” Delilah asked him as he poured over the images of the people who’d visited Joseph Scanlon in prison.
He let his gaze drift suggestively down the oversized FBI T-shirt she’d borrowed from him as she stood barefoot in the kitchen stirring a saucepan of freshly made chicken noodle soup. He’d picked it up from the store yesterday, as he’d remembered she used to like it because she said it reminded her of her mother.
It reminded him of her—like a thousand other things, including his treasured bone-handled balisong now hidden in a drawer in his apartment. He couldn’t even look at it without painful memories rising up inside him.
“Always.” He thrust aside thoughts of the past and deepened his voice suggestively. “You think you can handle it?”
“Soup.” She swatted his calf with a tea towel but blushed a little.
This was a side of her he’d never seen before. They’d never been domestic in their relationship. They’d never been relaxed. They’d been too on edge. Too busy worrying about not blowing their covers and being diced into a thousand pieces of vulture bait.
Even the thought of anyone hurting this woman terrified him, but she wasn’t about to give up her badge unless she was given no other choice. Even if she wasn’t an FBI Agent, he figured she’d be in law enforcement somehow. It was in her blood. Being a beat cop would probably be a lot more dangerous than working white collar crime for the FBI.
“No, thank you.” He needed to reconcile the fact she was as entitled as he was when it came to pursing her career goals and facing danger. “Regarding soup, I’m completely satisfied.”
She shot him a look.
He grinned and held up his hands in defense. “It’s not my fault I can’t get enough of you.”
“Well. Your knee certainly seems better. That’s for sure.” She tried to suppress a smile as she ladled another scoop into her bowl and sat down opposite.
“I have remarkable powers of recovery.” He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy. It was scary, but he refused to think that way. Because if this was all he got, he was going to damn well enjoy it for a change.
“You, sir, are incorrigible.”
“Deprived.”
“Depraved.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he teased.
Her eyes latched onto the images he was looking through. “Anyone stand out to you?”
He sobered at the reminder of why they were here. “A few faces look vaguely familiar but…” He stared at one woman who looked like someone he should know, but it must be a coincidence because he didn’t recognize her or her name. “I don’t think I know them. Yael offered to do a deep dive into their backgrounds?”
“Anyone we flag for her.”
He nodded and began to sort through them again setting aside the people who he suspected Scanlon could have used to help him set up and execute this bold revenge plan, including the woman who looked vaguely familiar but wasn’t.
Delilah finished her food and put her dishes into the dishwasher. Dealt with the pan on the stove. Four nights ago, he’d thought he’d lost her forever, and today he’d been able to get close enough to make love to her. He knew she wasn’t where he was in terms of where they might go from this. She’d given him no words. Made no promises, but he could hardly expect them. Assuming they caught Scanlon and whoever was working with him, Delilah still lived and worked on the other side of the country. He didn’t know how they’d navigate that, but he was willing to try to figure it out this time. If she was.
He sent a quick encrypted email to Yael with a list of ten names to start digging deeper into. Then he stood behind Delilah as she sat working on her laptop. He massaged her tense shoulders. Leaned down to nip the tight muscles on her neck. “Did I persuade you yet that I find you the most desirable woman on the planet?”
She leaned her head to one side. And hummed. “Not a hundred percent…”
He spun her around on the stool and lifted her into his arms. “Well, I need to work on that then.”
She reached over to flip the laptop closed and then got the kitchen light on the way to the bedroom.
Later, when they lay in bed, sated and tangled up in each other, she rested her head against his heart, and he felt as if it might burst from joy.
She traced a finger in a circle over his skin. It tickled but he refused to move in case she stopped.
“Will I ever get my life back, do you think?”
He thought about her burned down home and the loss of her friend and her partner. The fact she’d pretended to be dead rather than trust her colleagues.
Going backwards wouldn’t be easy, but this was Delilah, so anything was possible.
He squeezed her and kissed the top of her head but didn’t give her any false promises. And maybe he didn’t want her to go back to that life. Maybe he selfishly wanted her to begin a new one, with him in it.
She called me first.
Even after everything he’d done to her, she’d called him first.
It gave him hope.
Chapter Forty-Five
It was still dark when early the next morning Delilah paced the satellite offices of Cramer, Parker & Gray, feeling amazing on one level and useless on another. Alex Parker had called her to apologize for being up in DC, but as he’d told her from the get-go, he had his best friend’s wedding to deal with this weekend, and he’d basically given Delilah full-time access to one of his best analyst/hackers, so she couldn’t complain. Other people’s lives didn’t stop because hers had crashed to a halt—not that the past few days had felt static. In fact, the opposite was true. She’d never felt more alive than since she’d been dead.
She crossed her arms on a huff.
She didn’t appreciate the fact that feeling collided with the exact length of time Demarco had been back in her life.
He said he loved her, but he’d told her that before. And he’d still broken her heart. She felt his sincerity in the moment, especially after he’d confessed the abuse that he’d suffered as a child. But she didn’t know what it meant for the two of them. And, like she’d told him, maybe worrying about tomorrow was a fool’s game. Until she proved Scanlon was behind this string of murders, there was no tomorrow. Not for her. She’d always be looking over her shoulder or waiting for a bullet she’d never see coming.
Yael sent her a look.
“Sorry.” She stopped pacing. “I’m not good at doing nothing.”
“I can tell. It must be difficult. I kind of get it, although I can always find something to entertain myself with online.”
“I’m going crazy not being able to work on the task force or know what’s happening.” She shook her head at Yael’s silent offer because it could get her into serious trouble if she was caught or if Delilah let something slip she wasn’t supposed to know. “I need to do something.” She flung out her arms. “That sonofabitch is walking around on parole while people die. Five people in one week, and we have nothing to prove he’s behind any of it yet—which isn’t a reflection on you.” She paused to assure the other woman. “We don’t even know how he’s getting around the country. Oh…” She walked to where Yael sat working on three different monitors at the same time. “Could it be possible he’s flying himself? I mean, he doesn’t have to file a flight plan if he keeps it below a certain altitude, right?”
“I’m not sure, but I can check.” Yael nodded.
“And a lot of those military special forces type learn to fly different kinds of aircraft.”
“Shane was a Green Beret, and I know he can fly a Cessna and is considering learning to fly a helicopter.” Yael agreed. “I’ll start a search for any licenses or ownership of any aircraft in the Scanlon family.”
Delilah nodded. “Thank you.”
A pop-up on Yael’s screen pinged.
“Interesting.” The woman leaned closer. “I have an alert on the name Scanlon for anyone booking commercial flights or train or ferry tickets. One Melody Scanlon just bought a ticket for late this afternoon, traveling from SeaTac to New Orleans. Isn’t that his kid?”
“Yeah, she’s like seven.” Delilah froze. “What about the mother or stepdad. Name is Zimmerman. Nicole and Preston Zimmerman?”
Yael typed and then shook her head. “One ticket. Booked as an unaccompanied minor.”
“She’s sending her kid to stay with a convicted felon she barely knows?” Delilah couldn’t believe it. “Is she out of her mind?”
Yael’s eyes were wide. “Do you think Scanlon would hurt the kid?”
Delilah pressed her lips together. She was scaring the other woman and that wasn’t fair. “According to Lincoln Frazer, no. But he also called him a psychopath, and I don’t think Frazer had him as the primary caregiver when he gave that profile about him not being a danger to his own child.” She began pacing again. “I get that some parents have to send their kids off alone but dammit.”
If they knew the predators that lived among them, they’d never let their kids out of their sight.
“What time does her flight leave?”
Yael checked the screen. “Four-thirty p.m. PT.”
Delilah checked her watch. “I’m going to call Trainer and see if the local agents can talk to the mother ASAP. Persuade her to change her mind.” Although that might enrage Scanlon. “Do you need me here?”
It was obvious she was doing nothing useful except make tea.
“Nope. I can call if I have any updates on the searches I’ve set up.”
Delilah picked up her jacket. “You get anywhere with that prison visitor deep dive?”
Yael popped the last piece of a blueberry muffin into her mouth. “I sent the first couple to both your and Demarco’s emails. Working on the rest now.” She checked her own watch. “I’m heading up to DC after work tonight with Shane, assuming he doesn’t get called out on an op. We were going to make a weekend out of it as the wedding is on Sunday. But if you want me to stay here and work on this—”
The offer hit Delilah like a glancing blow to the nose and drew tears to her eyes. “No. Thank you. No.” Not that it was up to her. She wasn’t the boss. Yael was helping her out, and she was very grateful. “I assume if Joseph is planning to spend time with his kid, then he won’t be busy killing people. You take the weekend with that man of yours. Make sure he spoils you.”
Yael grinned. “You look happier today.”
Delilah rolled her eyes. “That obvious, huh?”
Yael lifted her shoulders in a self-conscious shrug. “I recognize the glow. I hope he groveled appropriately.”
