When a tear fell down her cheek, he reached up and grazed it away with the pad of his thumb. He was almost certain sheleaned in, like she needed his touch as much as he needed to touch her.
Almost of their own volition, his feet inched forward. His hand on her arm grazed down to her wrist, so that the thumps of her pulse beat beneath his finger.
“I don’t like seeing you upset,” he whispered, the drops of truth falling from his lips.
Her gaze shifted between his eyes. “Kayden, I—”
The radio on his waist sounded, Jake’s voice on the other end.
“Guys, is anyone close to the location where they found the Hodgkin girl’s body?”
Fuck. He didn’t want to be interrupted. Not here, not now. Kayden pulled out his radio. “I’m not far. Why?”
“I found something a bit south of there. I don’t want to touch it in case there are prints, but I don’t have gloves.”
“What did you find?”
“It’s—”
Suddenly, a loud bang cut off his words. It was so loud, he didn’t just hear it on the radio. It cracked throughout the mountains, loud and violent.
Tilly gasped. “Was that—”
“A gunshot.” His fingers tightened around Tilly’s wrist. Shit, he wasn’t carrying, but he couldn’tnotgo to Jake. “Jake? Jake, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
“Tilly, you need to go back to the office and lock the doors.” He lifted his radio again. “Theo, Hendrix, you there?”
“I’m here.” It was Hendrix. “Was that a fucking gunshot?”
“I’m going to find Jake. Lock down the visitors center and call the sheriff’s office and an ambulance.”
But dammit, he didn’t want to leave Tilly alone in these mountains when there was a shooter somewhere out there.
“I’m coming with you,” she said, as if reading his mind.
“Tilly—”
“I can help give first aid to Jake if he needs it. And even if I couldn’t, I’m safer with you than on my own.”
She was right. The shooter could be anywhere. He needed to get his damn head on straight.
He reached for her hand and slipped his fingers through hers. “Stay close.”
They jogged through the mountains, and the entire time Kayden studied his surroundings. The trees. The bushes. Searching for any movement that was out of place. There was nothing. But that didn’t stop the anxious pit from digging into his gut.
Who the hell was this shooter? Was it the same person who’d stabbed Macy? And if so, had they shot Jake because they’d seen him with a piece of evidence that linked them to the crime? How did they even know Jake hadfoundevidence?
He sped up, hearing the gasp from Tilly before spotting the body.
Jake lay on his stomach, a bullet wound on the right side of his middle back, crimson blood soaking through the material of his top.
Goddammit. He dropped down beside Jake and lifted his wrist to feel his pulse. Faint, but there.
Quickly, he removed his sweatshirt and pressed it to Jake’s back. “Tilly, I need you to hold this on the wound.”
Her face was pale, but she nodded, dropping to Jake’s side and pressing her hands over the sweatshirt.
