Page 7 of Fatal Attraction

I couldn’t look at Blaire again, so I didn’t, opting to breathe in through my mouth and survey the rest of the room.

The bed was made.

Blaire was covered in blood, but yet there wasn’t any splatter along the walls or in any part of the bedroom.

She wasn’t killed here.

No. She couldn’t have been.

This was staged.

“Can we at least close the windows?” he asked.

I regretfully shook my head. “No, we can’t. We have to leave everything as is until the forensic squad gets here. You know that Spike.”

He didn’t refute because he knew I was right. Once I’d reached the master bathroom, I turned my head and found him staring at the carpet, tears snaking down his cheeks.

“This,” he started, his voice cracking. “This could’ve been Charlotte.”

I stalked toward him and pulled him close to me, holding on tight. “We’ll find him. God damnit, I swear we’ll find him.”

He didn’t reply. He just broke away from me and ran out the door. I didn’t bother stopping or trying to call him back, because I knew it was pointless.

I knew exactly where he was going.

Straight into Charlotte’s arms.

Five

Charlotte

Blaire was dead.

One of my best friends was dead.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t fucking breathe!

Another cry tore from my throat. Harley held me harder, sniffling despite how much she struggled not to break down right along with me. “Breathe, Charlotte,” she whispered, her hands rubbing up and down my back. “You have to breathe.”

That was easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one who’d found Blaire’s body hanging from a fucking fan with hundreds of bugs feasting on her rotting body.

And Carter…

Fuck.

He was on a plane right this very second, coming home to be with her.

“CHARLOTTE!”

I lifted my head, and before I had time to fully register what was happening, Harley had been torn away from me, and I was in Spike’s arms, his mouth pressed roughly against mine.

“Detective—”

“Youcan fuck the hell off,” Spike snapped when he tore his mouth away and glared dangerously at Harley. “Our relationship isn’t any of your fucking business.”

“Be that as it may,” Harley said, her jaw set. “You cannot question her, Detective Hutch. Chief and Captain Burgess will have to take her statement.”

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