“You found something?”
“I found an injection sight, and Sheriff, there’s no way that Bailey Joe could’ve injected himself. The angle of entry would’ve been impossible. This was straight as an arrow, right between the shoulder blades. He never could’ve done that, especially with his arthritis. Plus, I checked his clothes and there was a small puncture with the substance around the entry area lining up perfectly with the injection sight. These have been our first murders in Shrouded Lake in nearly eight years.
“Once you know what to look for it’s a damn sight easier. Mrs. Willoby suffered a cardiac event due to prolonged ingestion of the substance and tumbled down the stairs, but the substance in her blood was in lesser amounts, yet purer a form, than what was present in Bailey Joe’s. In his tests, there were the trace amounts of the ghost flower, but there was also fentanyl. Both substances were in a more deteriorated state in Bailey Joe because he had been dead longer upon discovery. TOD was at least thirty-six hours before he was found.”
“Well shit. Send me over your reports ASAP. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but don’t share anything with anybody until I give you the go-ahead, Doc. And I mean anybody.”
Unlike the night before, when he approached his home tonight it was full-on dark again. Maybe Lauren chose to go home after the shock of her mother. He was exhausted, bone weary, but he’d swim in the lake and go stay at her place with her.
Inside the house, he disarmed the security system. He knew instantly she was here. The heater was on, and it smelled of freshly baked cake. Not pound, not chocolate—something new, and she must have made coffee to go with it.
He walked into the kitchen.
No, not coffeeandcake. He cut a slice, popped it in his mouth and moaned. It was cakemadewithcoffee. He sat down and ate two slices, searched the refrigerator, moving Lauren’s cartons of almond milk and reaching for his whole milk, drinking directly from the bottle, then he went for his swim.
After several minutes under water, Santiago knew with clarity that it was all connected. The three murders, the animal head in Lauren’s house… He just hadn’t pulled the right threads to unravel the mystery and find the answers. He was really curious to see what Lauren’s audit turned up and if the issue of funds was a motivation for the murders.
Swimming back to the house, he saw Julian on his porch. He didn’t even wave. He had more pressing matters to attend to than beer with a neighbor.
In the house, he bound up the stairs and walked toward the softly playing R&B music in his bedroom.
He grunted in disappointment when he opened the bedroom door to find Lauren fast asleep. Splayed out in his bed like a damn starfish. After showering, he climbed into bed naked and turned off the Bluetooth speaker, uncaring if Lauren woke up or not.
She didn’t. Damn woman.
Looking toward the dark ceiling, he closed his eyes, certain sleep would crash over him swiftly. He was sure it would, but when he breathed, he breathed in her scent. And when he shifted, he felt her warmth. It reached out to him.
He turned onto his other side, away from her, and despite his fatigue, sleep eluded him. He turned back on his other side and although he knew he shouldn’t, shifted until his body was flush against hers.
Draping his arm over her waist, he held her to him so she wouldn’t be able to leave without him knowing. Why did Lauren leaving suddenly feel like the worst choice she could ever make?
Placing his cheek on the silk bonnet covering her head, he fell straight to sleep.
CHAPTER 18
Lauren wokeup with Santi’s arm around her, feeling well rested, content, at peace, hopeful; then her memories came flooding back.
Ma Mable was in Shrouded Lake, and she’d left Lauren’s father.
When Lauren had left Lina’s, she thought she would spiral into a deep and angry depression, but instead, the mass of pain that had formed against her heart since she’d learned of her family’s betrayal no longer filled her with the bitter, twisted rage she survived on since arriving in Shrouded Lake.
She stroked the heavy arm welded across her waist. Felt the strength of Santiago curled around her and this moment exposed a truth she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. She hadn’t loved Derrick as deeply as she wanted to. Otherwise, she wouldn’t feel this level of connection with a man she hadn’t even known for a whole month.
Santiago’s hand stroked her stomach, skin to skin, and her pulse kicked into overdrive. The slow caress, the heat pooling between her thighs, the tremor spreading through her body… His hand movement was sensual, possessive, certain. It reachedup and cupped her breast, squeezed as if testing for ripeness, and played with her nipple.
Her hips bucked as the pressure on her nipple became almost painful. The jerking action brought her ass in full contact with the massive erection behind her, and she moaned…she wanted.
“You feel feverish, little wren, and look how you’re shaking. It feels like you’re coming down with something?”
Though the morning was overcast, Lauren felt like the force of the sun was shining directly on her she was so hot.
Maybe I am coming down with something, maybe I?—
He ground his erection against the seam of her ass and all she wanted—all she’d ever wanted—was to be naked, to have him inside her, to feel...more. To feel all of him. She reached back to grip his hip, to move him just a little lower so she could?—
“You’re naked,” she said.
“I don’t usually sleep in clothes.”
