“What in the hell happened here?” Curran demanded.
Hadn’t he heard everything on the phone? Maybe he just needed confirmation for the record. She could explain things. “He tried to kill us,” Violet began.
“So we killed him,” Royal finished.
Their hands were linked together. They were linked. Nothing was going to break them apart. Nothing.
“Sonofabitch,” Curran growled.
“Self-defense,” Royal corrected. “I do believe what you meant to say was…self-defense.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Violet insisted. She was currently sitting on a gurney, in the back of an ambulance, and a white bandage covered her neck. “I want to stay with you.”
“Sweetheart, for my sanity, go to the hospital.”
“It’s a scratch.”
No, it had been a knife to the throat. That was what it had been. A new image for his nightmare highlight reel. Royal put his forehead against hers. “You want me to beg? In front of all these gawking people?” He’d shoved his way into the ambulance after she’d been bandaged up.
“No. I never want you to beg.” Her breath whispered out. “Don’t you dare get locked into a cell while I’m gone, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He thought everyone within a thirty-foot radius might have heard her.
“Don’t be a smartass, either.” Then she was kissing him. Quick. Desperate. “And don’t forget that I love you.”
He’d remember her love until his dying day. There were some things that could never be erased. “And you remember that you’re the center of my world.”
Then he made himself back away. Hop out of the ambulance. His gaze met hers. “Kai,” he said to his friend who was close by. Just that. His name.
Kai climbed in the ambulance. He knew what to do. “She’ll have a guard every minute. Damn, but I sure hope we encounter some hot nurses. The last time I was in the hospital, there was one woman that was absolutely out of this world.”
The doors slammed shut. The ambulance pulled away.
Then Royal turned to the detective who was waiting. Not that Curran was alone. Curran’s new federal agent buddy was right beside him. Both looked pissed. Fair enough, Royal felt pretty pissed, too.
I killed him. And if I had it to do all over again, I’d still pull that trigger.
“Forensics are working in your office. We’d really like for you to walk us through the shooting once more.” Teresa’s hands were on her hips. The pose pulled back her suit coat and showed both her badge and her weapon. “How about we go down to the station so that we can talk?”
Ah, and here Violet had just asked him not to get locked away. But in this case, he could oblige his lady. He would not be spending time in a cell. “Absolutely. Happy to cooperate. If there is one thing I love to do, it’s cooperate with law enforcement. I’ll make sure I call my lawyer to sit in on the cooperation bout with me, but first…” He marched right up to Curran. “You were calling me about something?” A perfectly timed call.
Curran nodded. “Micah kept singing that he’d been set up. I believed him and wanted to warn you.”
“Aw, detective, be careful, or I’ll think you care about me.”
“You bastard.” Curran threw his arms around Royal and hauled him close. “Thought you were dead. Shit. I heard the guns going off in the background. I heard Violet scream.”
“You do care.”
Curran eased back and glared at him. “You and Beau saved my ass when I was seventeen. You dragged me out of that fucking gang and gave me a life. Hell, yes, I care. Now you stop doing dumb shit.”
“I didn’t do anything dumb. An upstanding officer of the law heard every word I said—and every word the killer said. I’m hoping you put the call on speaker.” He glanced toward the watchful Teresa. “So that the whole team could hear? Did you hear, Agent Duncan?”
“I heard,” she affirmed.
“Great. Then our visit to the police station should be blessedly short. The dead man upstairs is the serial killer you’re after. He also murdered his wife—and whoever the unfortunate victims are at the winery. I’m guessing they were probably homeless women. Maybe prostitutes who resembled his dead wife. Women who’d been taken when he was still learning. Someone he hoped no one would miss.” So Leo had preyed on the weakest members of society first. Burn in hell, you piece of shit. Burn. “He used the winery probably because his good friend Micah told him about the place once—and Leo really hated Micah.” He played the long game, always intending to frame Micah for the crimes. But then I came along and screwed things to hell for him.