Autumn looked at the gate to the entrance of the mansion just down the hill from where they stood. “You’re delusional, Mr. Scala.”
“Actually, I’m not, as you’re looking for an escape even as we speak.”
Nico turned to her and when she was about to speak, he covered her lips with his. The profiler’s lips molded to his and when her mouth opened, Nico didn’t hesitate. His tongue thrust into her mouth, tasting her fully. Her hands tugged on the lapels of his suit. Nico didn’t know if it was to push him away or hold on, but her fingers tugged him closer.
Nico breathed into the kiss and held her to it. Then he heard the moan move up her throat. His fingers stroked the skin along her jaw and reluctantly let her go. Both breathing heavily and Autumn’s lids at half-mast, she stared back at him with dilated pupils.
With a thumb stroking over her lips, Nico murmured, “That kiss was planned, Miss Taylor.”
Autumn blinked, then she slapped him after his words registered. “You bastard!”
Nico smirked, aware of the heat moving across his cheek where she slapped him. “You liked it, didn’t you, Autumn?” he taunted. His gaze followed the flush creep up her neck and looked into her eyes. “No answer?”
“Go to hell!”
He watched as the firecracker stormed down the hill at a run. She passed the guard in the gatehouse and collapsed when she got into Hererra’s car. He watched her snap the door shut loudly.
Nico slowly made his way down the hill and stood next to Marco at the guardhouse. They watched the vehicle with the detective and criminal analyst make a U-turn and drive down the street.
“Damn, you made her mad, eh?”
A smile curled up Nico’s lips.
Marco shook his head, “Sei pazzo amico mio.”
Nico grinned back at him, watching the vehicle until it vanished into the traffic, “Maybe.”
“No maybe about it. And the police on top of it?” Marco made a circular motion at the side of his head, “You’re definitely crazy, my friend.”
His lips twitched as he waved off the soldier. Nico walked around to the front of the house. Maybe he was crazy. And maybe he did have a death wish.
But it was going to be worth it.
Chapter 6
ThedayafterCatarinaCasale’s funeral, Autumn found herself at Cat Tails.
At a crime scene.
In her rented private room.
The suspect propped the victim up this time. Her mouth gaped open with a small gray jeweler’s box stuffed inside. The eye sockets, once more, highlighted the bright blue Forget Me Not flowers. A bullwhip wrapped around the victim’s neck and the wrists wrapped above her head in cuffs, where a yellowed newspaper clipping set pinned with a sharp, jagged-edged knife. The title read:
Autumn Taylor: Victim or Accessory?
She swallowed hard and took a shaky step inside the room. Her hands were damp beneath the gloves she donned and walked to the victim. Fiery red hair swept back from the woman’s face. Autumn glanced at the whip and noticed it had nearly severed the head from her spine. Autumn looked away and glanced at the article again. The words, forget-me-not, were highlighted in the newspaper article. Similar to the last crime scene.
“More gruesome this time, isn’t it?”
She looked over at Newman in his nylon flak jacket. His gaze narrowed on her, then moved to the article. He didn’t say a word, but Autumn knew that hard expression on his face.
She blinked, lowered her eyes, “It appears to be.”
Newman nodded at the newspaper article, “That’s going into evidence.” Their eyes met. His questioning. Hers direct.
Autumn shrugged finally, “Do whatever you have to do, sir.”
She took a glance around the room. There were more people this time. Police officers and CSI techs littered the area. Reagan was most likely on her way.
