“Hi, Captain. Is there any reason you didn’t call me with the information that another body was found?” Deputy Chief Mert Wright snapped.
Huck immediately stood, snatched his now-empty glass off the sofa table, and stalked back into his kitchen. “The body is at the ME’s office, and I don’t have any other information at this time.” He poured himself a generous refill and then returned to his seat, a headache starting to thrum at the base of his skull. The last person he wanted to deal with was the moron who’d held a news conference side by side with the dumbass sheriff. “I planned to call you tomorrow.”
“When we’re in the middle of a serial killer investigation, I expect to be kept up to date by the minute,” Wright said.
Huck tipped back a deep drink of bourbon and almost moaned when the heat hit his gut. “Like I said, when I have information, I’ll share it.” He watched the firelight play through the flames that highlighted Laurel’s hair. Auburn was the only way he could describe it. Brown, red, even hints of blond . . . and it was natural. Regardless of what she’d said to Dr. Caine. “The vic was female, young, bruised, and blond.” There. Now his boss was up to date. At least he’d headed back to Seattle after creating a shit-storm with his press conference in town.
The sound of shuffling papers came over the line. “The media got a hold of the story, and I just finished speaking with the governor. She wants an interagency task force set up, and for some reason, she wants you to head it.”
That was because the governor wasn’t a moron, unlike the deputy chief. “Fine,” Huck said, his fingers itching to run through Laurel’s hair. He had to get her out of his place as soon as possible the next day. She was a temptation he neither needed nor wanted. Well, one he didn’t need, anyway. “Is that all?”
“No.” Wright sighed. “The governor insists that the FBI be included, especially that short, young agent with the pretty face and weird eyes. Apparently her track record for catching serial killers is remarkable enough to impress our governor as well as the AG. We’ve already coordinated with DC, and she’s on your team. Whether you like it or not.” Now he sounded smug.
Huck hated smug. “Wouldn’t think of having a task force without her. She seems bright and hard working.” He tipped back his glass and drank the contents in one swallow, unable to look away from the fragile form on his sofa. Small and easily breakable weren’t his thing. Never had been. So why couldn’t he stop looking at her delicate bone structure and the gentle slope of her slightly parted lips?
Wright sputtered. “What? You hate working with anybody—even your own team. Don’t tell me you’re falling for this chick.”
“Not my type,” Huck said honestly. Laurel was nowhere near his type, and he knew it. “I don’t think you’re supposed to call an FBI special agent a chick. This one carries a gun and doesn’t seem afraid of anything or anyone. Just FYI.”
“While this one may be brilliant, rumor has it she doesn’t work closely with others. An FYI for you,” Wright returned.
Huck stretched his back and set the glass on the mantel. “Then we have that in common. We’re dealing with a serial killer who all of a sudden wants to play games.” Laurel had filled him in on the way to his cabin. “I’d think that having a profiler, one known to have impressive skills, would be a good thing for all of us. We need to catch this guy before he kills another woman.”
“Agreed,” Wright said. “We’ll keep the county police informed, but right now, the task force consists of you and Monty from Fish and Wildlife, Sheriff York from the local community, and the very impressive chick with the freaky eyes and red hair from the FBI.”
Huck swallowed his irritation. “Her hair isn’t red, and her eyes aren’t freaky. They’re heterochromatic.” He’d looked it up the other day for no reason other than curiosity. Yeah. That was it. He finally tore his gaze away from her sleeping form. “You’re not on the task force?” He didn’t hide the grin in his voice.
“No. The governor thought I’d be more helpful elsewhere,” Wright said,almostconcealing his annoyance over that fact.
Yeah. The governor definitely had a brain. “Very well. I’ll be in touch when I have news.”
Wright cleared his throat. “You’ve been much more accommodating about this than either I or the governor expected.” Now the guy sounded regretful. Had he looked forward to an argument? “I don’t need to remind you that fraternizing with an FBI agent, especially considering your issues, would be a public relations nightmare. The governor hates PR problems, as you know.”
“Then why are you reminding me?” Huck drawled, stretching to his feet. “I am happy to work with the other agencies, and I doubt I’ll be in close contact with the FBI agent. But thanks for having my back. Got to go.” He clicked off the call.
Laurel mumbled something in her sleep, stretched, and rolled off the sofa.
He dodged forward and caught her before she could hit the wooden floor. “Laurel?”
She breathed easily and didn’t stir.
He grinned. When she slept, she was out. He shook his head and strode with her to the bedroom. Her clothes were still wet, and now his T-shirt was damp.
Aeneas barked from the other room, no doubt wanting to be let out one more time before going to sleep.
Huck placed Laurel dead center in the middle of the bed so if she rolled over, she wouldn’t fall. “I’ll be back in a little while,” he whispered, turning and exiting the room after throwing a blanket over her. If her clothing was still wet when he returned, he’d have to do something about it, and he didn’t want to think about that.
Right now, he needed to let his dog out, lock the SUV, and secure his homestead for the night. His job never ended. He slipped on his boots, whistled for the dog, grabbed his coat, and headed out into the storm.
His muscles already ached from the cold. Hopefully he could be quick about it this time.
Chapter Seventeen
Snow fell from the rooftop, hitting the ground with a thud, and Laurel jerked awake. Warmth surrounded her along with peaceful quiet. She took inventory. Soft sheets, heavy blankets, a heated body behind her. Her eyelids shot open. Heated body? Wait a minute. She gingerly turned around to see Huck Rivers on his back, the covers pushed to his waist, his eyes closed and his breathing even. One sinewy arm was up and curved beneath his head. Man, he had big hands.
She experienced a full body roll at the sight.
Sleep had calmed the normally harsh lines of his rugged face, although the dark whiskers covering his sharp jawline gave him a wild look. His chest was muscled with a nice amount of hair that led south. His form was a solid presence in the bed, and he took up more than his share of space. Although, it was his bed, so perhaps it was all his share.
