The Inquisitor by Gayle Wilson

Author:Gayle Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

“You were right,” Bingham said. “It’s the Cummings girl. How the hell he managed to get the body down here without somebody seeing him…”

“Middle of the night.” Sean forced the words past the constriction in his throat as he watched the technicians work over the body. “Maybe he approached the spot from the motel rather than the interstate. Less likely to be seen doing it that way.”

Unwilling to wait until morning to examine the area around the girl’s corpse, the cops had set up floodlights, along with the customary yellow tape. In the damp cold the three of them were standing just beyond its perimeter on the edge of the motel parking lot.

Jenna had said almost nothing since the detective’s arrival. She stood beside Sean now, her right arm wrapped across her chest, left hand holding the collar of her jacket against her neck. Occasionally a tremor ran through her frame. A couple had been strong enough that, although their bodies weren’t touching, Sean had become aware of them.

He wondered if she was conscious that that was the same position she’d assumed during the television interview. He had classified it then as defensive. It still was.

And why not? He’d been telling her for three days that she would be next. Now Carol Cummings was dead, and his warning must weigh even more heavily on her.

Especially since she’s watching the forensic examination of the last victim’s body.

As soon as he’d given in to his conviction about what the bag in the right-of-way contained, he’d gone back to his room to notify the police, a decision that had not been prompted solely by concern for Jenna. After all, as he had believed she would all along, she’d stayed inside, every lock on the door secure. He had listened to her unfasten them after he’d identified himself. As unfamiliar as the feeling had been, he’d admitted while he waited that he’d come back rather than using his cell because he wanted to be with someone while he made that call.

He didn’t know what his face had revealed when Jenna opened the door. Whatever it was made her step forward as soon as he was inside and put her arms around his body.

There had been nothing sexual about the embrace. It offered comfort. Acknowledgment, perhaps, that he wasn’t in this alone. Remarkably, he’d welcomed both.

His left arm, the one not occupied with holding the Glock, had automatically closed around her, cradling her warmth against the black, aching coldness in the center of his chest. He had released her as soon as she’d moved, leaning back to look up at him.

It had been a close-run thing. He had wanted to bury his head against her shoulder instead. To take solace in the fact that she was warm. And alive.

“What happened?” Her eyes searched his face.

“I need to call the cops.” A brief reprieve before the inevitable moment when she would have to know.

“Did you kill him?”

“Did you want me to? That wasn’t the impression I got.

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