More Than A Lawman. Anna J. Stewart

More Than A Lawman - Anna J. Stewart


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it or leave it,” he said.

      Heart pounding, she realized she was too tired to fight him. Eden nodded.

      “As long as you accept responsibility for her,” the EMT told him.

      “I did that a long time ago.”

      Eden hid her smirk, but kept her mouth shut.

      Once the EMTs were gone, Cole fixed the blanket around her. “Fair warning, Eden. As of right now, things have changed. And believe me, you’re not going to like it.” He lifted her in his arms and strode over to his car. “Not one little bit.”

      “Hey, Delaney!”

      Cole turned, but continued walking backward as a patrolman called out.

      “This is your case! You’re primary!”

      “Secure the scene,” Cole hollered over to him. “McTavish is in charge until I get back here.” Cole stumbled. Eden locked her hands around his neck as he righted himself. He might be mad as all get-out at her, but he wouldn’t let her fall. He never had. “You okay?” he asked.

      “Yeah.” The shivering had subsided, and while there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t ache or burn, she welcomed every pinprick of pain. “I’ll be fine.”

      Cole nodded to the patrol officer who yanked open the door to Cole’s SUV. It was only after Cole secured her seat belt and closed the passenger door that Eden realized she’d forgotten to ask him one very important question.

      How had he ever found her?

      Big-city emergency rooms in the early morning hours on a Saturday were chaos personified. Add in a three-car pileup on the I-5, a collapsed back porch thanks to an overabundance of drunk partygoers, and the mass-testosterone-induced excitement of a road-trip bachelor party gone wrong, and Cole was looking at chaos in the rearview mirror.

      “Detective Delaney, it would be better if you waited outside, please,” the duty nurse said as she switched on monitors and ordered her staff about.

      “I’m staying out of the way.” Wedged in the corner by the door, he couldn’t be more out of the way if he was in the next room. Cole kept his gaze pinned to Eden’s. She was holding it together, but only barely. He was well acquainted with her aversion to hospitals and the medical profession in general. She’d be shaky under normal circumstances.

      These circumstances were anything but normal. “I’m right here, Eden, okay?”

      She nodded, once, sharp, and flinched as the nurse inserted an IV into her arm. That Eden pressed her lips into a tight white line told him she was either repressing a scream or debating verbally abusing her caregivers. He was tempted to advise the nurse to tie Eden’s hands down, but he didn’t want to borrow trouble. As long as he stayed in sight, as long as she knew someone who cared about her was here, she’d be okay.

      His entire body itched to answer his cell. It had been buzzing on and off since he’d left the scene, but one glare from the nurse had him pocketing the device and riding out the endless minutes it took for them to evaluate and stabilize Eden’s core temperature.

      As much as he wanted to be at the crime scene, his place was here, with Eden. He’d vowed to her older brother, Cole’s best friend, that he’d protect her. It had been eight years ago that Logan had left for—and never returned from—Afghanistan. Little did Cole know that oath would morph into a second job.

      If there had ever been a time Eden St. Claire hadn’t pushed the boundaries of good judgment, Cole couldn’t remember it. Act first, worry later was her mantra.

      But, he reminded himself, Jack McTavish was solid. Cole’s partner would keep the crime scene clear and their superiors at bay. And when he couldn’t, Cole would get a 222 text message.

      Obviously it was past time to give Eden an emergency code. If for no other reason than to preserve Cole’s sanity.

      Guilt then stabbed at his gut. Cole should have known something was wrong when Eden missed their weekly confab at Monroe’s Coffeehouse. Or he might have, if they hadn’t had that rip-roaring argument last week when he’d told her she was being reckless with her reporting. Instead of worrying when she didn’t show, he’d assumed she was trying to teach him a lesson and had ditched him. She’d done it in the past when she’d gotten too caught up in one of her stories.

      His frustration boiled over. That crazy blog of hers had gotten out of control. Eden on Ice. Bad enough she’d gone to journalism school—as a cop, he wasn’t overly fond of interfering reporters to begin with. No, she had to supplement her crime-reporter income from the Sacramento Tribune by running a blog that kept tabs on killers, serial and otherwise, who were reputedly in California, Nevada or Oregon. She’d quickly gained a certain reputation with law-enforcement agencies—and not necessarily for the better. If Eden felt justice hadn’t been served or if one of these lowlifes was on the loose, watch out. Chances were the suspected killer featured in Eden St. Claire’s database.

      Not that she’d paid any mind to others besides the Iceman in recent months. Her fixation had almost done her in once and for all.

      He watched as Eden’s eyes drifted closed and her head lolled to the side.

      Finally. She was asleep and Cole felt as if he could breathe. He sagged against the wall.

      When was he going to learn that nothing good ever happened between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m.? His father had called it “the hour of the wolf,” when evil lurked, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

      And phone calls at that time?

      It was never happy news.

      What relief he’d felt when he’d seen her name on his caller ID vanished when the disguised voice on the other end told him to hurry...to find her...before it was too late.

      Cole didn’t know what was more unsettling. The fact he hadn’t known Eden was missing or that it was the Iceman himself who had seen fit to inform him where she could be found.

      Oh, his lieutenant was going to love the fact a serial killer now had Cole’s direct number.

      Even worse? Tonight’s events meant that Eden had been right all along. The Iceman hadn’t left the Central Valley area. He was still killing, and, as of a few hours ago, had upped the stakes considerably.

      Cole took advantage of Eden sleeping and slipped into the hallway. He kept one eye on the open door to her exam room as he answered the call from one of the evidence techs on the case. “Hey, Tammy. What’s up?”

      “Thought you’d want to know. The officers you had checking on Eden’s house reported in. They found her car parked in her driveway. Her purse and cell phone are inside. Doors are locked, house and car keys were wedged under some kind of gargoyle on her front porch. No sign of a break-in.”

      A shiver raced down his spine. “He knows where she lives.” And how she lived. That she kept her spare key in that hideously adorable creature was a long-running joke—and secret—between the two of them. She had an entire collection of creepy, ugly ornaments scattered about that porch and backyard.

      Given the growing popularity of her blog—she had a massive following—the fact she’d captured the attention of her latest obsession and target didn’t surprise him. What nerve had she struck that awakened the Iceman from his hibernation?

      “Did they find any prints?” Cole asked around a too-tight throat. He saw Eden’s feet move under the pile of blankets and shifted to be able to watch her more clearly.

      “Running them now. So far all they’ve found are Eden’s. Looks like another dead end. Oh, wow.” Tammy hissed in a sharp breath. “Wrong thing to say, sorry.”

      Cole found himself smiling thanks to that odd sense of humor most cops possessed. “It would have been if


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