Page 58 of Lake House Killer

“I’m sorry you hit your head.”

“I’m in agreement it’s your fault. I also lost my glasses. I’ll send you the bill.”

“You’re impossible,” he growls. “I’m trying to have a serious moment.”

“What? I can’t be serious when I say it’s all your fault?”

“You know, you could have been killed.” His voice rises an octave as he growls at me. “You’re lucky you’re alive.”

“You’re lucky you’re alive,” I growl right back.

“You know I should—” He grunts with frustration, not knowing where to take the argument next. “I should—” He frowns hard before diving in and stealing a kiss right off my lips and my heart detonates in my chest like dynamite.

Traitor.

He pulls back, looking just as ticked as he was before he did the deed.

“Not so fast,” I snip before pulling him in by the back of the neck and forcing our lips together once more.

It starts out rough before we open up and I let him in and soon we’re all teeth and tongues as we exchange one of the roughest, messiest, and quite possibly best kisses of my life.

My heart pounds ten times as hard as it was to begin with, far faster than the threat of a bullet could ever prompt it to.

Jack and I kiss under the cover of night, under the supervision of a silver moon, and perhaps the entire field team of the Denver office.

But we don’t care.

It’s not make-believe by a long shot.

This is happening, and this is real.

But something tells me the aftermath is going to be a real killer.

37

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

Both Nikki and Lydia were taken to the local hospital for observation overnight and treated for dehydration.

Owen Marcus sent a case of his High Spirts drinks to the field office in Denver. I heard it was a hit. The entire crew ended the day on a high note. I didn’t want any.

Damien lawyered up, and Jewel swore she’d take a polygraph to prove that he was in on it from the get-go. And even though a polygraph is about as admissible in a court of law as tarot cards, she did show us a hand she’s kept close to the vest. She recorded the events from the night of the shootings on her phone.

And yet, that phone we kept waiting for forensics to release yielded nothing. It belonged to Cynthia and all we found were a few messages to her adult children that preceded the night of the murder. And that’s exactly who we returned the phone to.

It turns out, the Becks were collateral damage.

Jewel didn’t know about the room switch, and she was spooked. Shots were fired, and that was that. Damien was caught verbally barking out orders to her after Lydia was hit with the stun gun. After he helped load her into the car, he could be heard saying give me the gun and running back into the house and shooting himself in the hand. There was a scuffle, and some light expletives before Jewel took off. Damien was never hit with a taser.

Jack and I drove back to Pine Ridge Falls, back to Whispering Woods that night in virtual silence. We were stunned by how it all ended like watching a set of dominos knock into one another.

I don’t know about him, but that kiss keeps playing out in my mind on a loop. I’m still not sure what to make of it.

It’s been three days. He’s tried calling, but I let it go to voicemail. We talked in the group chat with Nikki, but other than that I think he’s giving me my space. And I appreciate it.

After feeding Buddy a decent dinner, lots of his new kibble, which he apparently can’t get enough of, and a can of his favorite wet food, I get dressed and the two of us jump into my 4Runner and head out to Denver.

I’ve got a deadline to meet with a certain mob henchman. And if anything, I’m punctual.

---