He swooped in for a kiss before she could react, but when she did, it wasn’t to push him away. She slid her fingers into the hair he’d just straightened in the mirror and messed it all up. He didn’t care. He loved her touch. The way it made him feel human and whole.
He slowly let her go and looked deep into her eyes. “Okay. Now we can go.”
She rubbed her thumb over his lip again. “This color doesn’t look so good on you.”
“I’ll clean it off in the truck.” Before her touch urged him to kiss her again, he slid past her and grabbed the casserole dish. “What did you make?”
“It’s called corn pudding. Sounds kind of odd but if you like cornbread, you’ll love it.”
“If you made it, I will love it.”
“Or, at least, you’ll say you do.” She giggled and closed the door.
They walked through the cool autumn day toward his truck, a crisp feel to the temps, but the sun was warm, a welcome change when it more often than not rained on Thanksgiving in the Portland area. He opened the door for her, and after she buckled her seatbelt, he handed her the casserole dish.
When he got behind the wheel, he used the mirror to look at his lips and laughed. “You’re right. Not my color.”
She already had her purse open and lipstick out. “Then it’ll have to be lips off for the rest of the day.”
He gave her a grin. “Maybe it doesn’t look so bad after all.”
She laughed, and he loved the sound of it bouncing around his truck. Bouncing around his life. He could surely get used to hearing it every day. He started up his truck and backed out of the driveway. “You ready for the open house?”
“I’ve already had a few showings. Lots of comments about how it needs remodeling, and it still makes me shiver when I hear that. And then there’s the whole part about a serial killer hiding his murder weapon in the wall while he was living here.”
“I assume both of those things will devalue the home.”
She nodded. “But taking a loss to move on, especially now that I know the history before I lived here as a kid, is worth it.” She swiveled to face him. “What’s the status on the other items Flagg hid in his houses? Have you finished the last place yet?”
“He’s still not talking, and we’re having to use wall finders and take X-rays. It’s slow going, but we’re confident we’ll find what he hid there without having to tear into all the walls.”
“It’s so odd that he did that. It’s like he wanted to get caught. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise me. I’d heard that was true of some serial killers.”
“Not so.” He glanced at her, and she was twisting her hands together in her lap. “That’s a false notion. They simply relax a bit with each murder they get away with, get cocky, and make a mistake that allows us to catch them. He really played Russian Roulette with hiding those things. It was just a matter of time before the items were found in one of the houses. Once that happened, it would have been a matter of how well he kept his prints and DNA off the items.”
“I know you’re not supposed to tell me, but have you found DNA or prints?”
“All I can say is, we’ve built a very strong case against him for the murders of the six women and your parents.”
She gave a solemn nod. “What about the women’s bodies? Have you found them?”
He shook his head. “Kelsey at Veritas is using ground penetrating radar to search the properties, and she’s found three women so far.”
She cringed, and he didn’t want her to keep thinking about the murders.
“So tell me,” he said. “What can I expect at the Byrd’s place today?”
“Chaos.” She chuckled, as he’d hoped she would, but the dark look lingered in her eyes.
Just like the darkness lingered in Ian’s heart, but this woman washed it away when he was with her. She replaced it with goodness and warmth. “How many Byrds are there?”
She tilted her head. “Well, the parents and six kids. Then each one has a spouse or significant other, so six more.”
“Fourteen adults and how many kids?”
“There’s Asher and Brendan’s adopted daughter, Karlie.” She held her hand out and ticked off on her fingers. “And, of course, the three children Peggy and Russ are fostering. So five kids.”
“A grand total of nineteen. Twenty-one with us.” He shook his head. “Wow. Coming from a family of three, twenty-one is a lot to take.”
