I exhale, clearing my throat awkwardly in the process. “Thank you.”
He gives me the most neutral, curt tip of his head.
“I should go,” I mutter, voice barely audible. All my courage has drained right out of my body as he towers above me. To think, I fucking broke into this man’s house a few days ago blindly. I squeeze my fingers together of my still-healing hand, suddenly aware.
He steps away from me, gesturing to the door. “I apologize for my daughter skipping out on you like she did. That wasn’t professional.”
“No worries. She’s just a kid. Still trying to figure it out.”
“She’s lucky she didn’t have to grow up fast.” He lets me pass, but as I squeeze by, his hand brushes mine. It’s quick, accidental, but it leaves a spark that jumps straight to my chest.
And I fumble with the door, half expecting him to stop me.
Outside, the air is colder than before. I make it halfway to my car before I realize his eyes are still on me.
“Have a nice evening,” I call out to him as I pop the door open.
He gives me a curt nod. “See you around, Dr. Williams. Stay safe out there, and I sure hope that hand of yours heals.”
Oh fuck.
Chapter 19
Bradford
“So,”Cade begins as we stand around the tree farm office, voice flat. “Are we having, like, a team-building exercise? Or did you just want to share the souvenir photos from a job done well?”
“You want to sit down?” I snap, not looking up from the mess of pictures on the desk.
“I’ll stand. Keeps the blood flowing.” Cade leans in, taps the photo of the old man’s chest—what’s left of it. “Can I get this framed? Put it in my bunk? That’s some nice work.”
I shoot him a look. His eyes are glassy, and his black shirt is buttoned wrong, one side riding higher than the other.
There is something so fucking wrong with this guy.
Turner shifts from one foot to the other. “Cops drove by here three times last night. Never seen them do that before, and I’ve been here for two months.”
“They’re not watching you,” Cade laughs at him. “They’re watchinghim.” He jerks his chin at me. “He’s the one who has the lore around his whole damn farm.”
I set the photos down. “Why fire, Cade?”
“Here we go, Doc. You gonna try and make me better?” He grins, hovering over my desk. “I think you want me to apologize for improvising. But the guy was a fucking freak. Gave me thecreeps even before he started talking.” He shrugs. “Besides. Dead’s dead. Doesn’t matter how you get there, or how you choose to clear evidence. It just matters that you do.”
Turner folds his arms across his chest. “Did you really have to cut off his dick though? Orders were to be clean. We wouldn’t have needed fire if there wasn’t so much fucking blood.”
Cade tilts his head, eyes innocent. “We came out clean.”
Turner looks away—something I wish so desperately I could fucking do, too.
Cade’s smile grows. “It’s a classic move, you know. Sends a message. You can fuck up kids lives without thoroughly being tortured for it. You don’t fuck with the innocent. All it does is turn them into monsters when they’re older.”
My jaw tenses. “That wasn’t the message we were paid to send.”
Cade gives a little bow. “Well, it was the one that needed to be.”
The heater rattles in the corner, belching out fake warmth.
I decide to shift gear, and push. “So fires are your MO? I thought Lubbock was a one-off. Knight never clarified it was a pattern for you.”
