Page 45 of Mountain Protector

As we sit on the couch, Lark pressed up next to me, I lean close to her ear and whisper, “I especially liked the kissing part.”

Once we’re all seated, Officer Quillian pulls out a notebook and looks down at it, his expression sobering as he scans the writing inside.

Lark stiffens, and her fingers dig into mine. “It’s fine,” I murmur. “They caught the guy. So this is just information. Remember?”

But for the first time, I’m second guessing my decision not to tell Lark about the death right away. Will she be upset that I kept it from her, albeit only for half an hour or so? I just thought it was such jarring news, and to hear it out of the blue…

“So,” Officer Quillian starts, “first off, this is goodnews.” He looks at Lark. “We found the man who broke into your house.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“Yes. Considering your position when you shot him, the wound lines up perfectly. And the caliber of the bullet matches the one you fired from your gun. Ballistics will run an analysis to be sure, but I’m confident their findings will correlate with what we found.”

“So you located the bullet?” I ask. “Where?”

“There was no exit wound. So it was still inside the body.”

Shit. We just jumped into the whole dead part a lot faster than I thought.

And of course, Lark picks right up on it. “The body?”

Officer Quillian gives a brisk nod. “Yes. When we found Ivan Vinnetti—that’s his name—he was deceased.”

She jolts in surprise. “Dead?” Turning to me, she asks, “Did you know?”

“Just when Enzo texted me,” I reply. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. But I just wanted to be here when you found out. I’m sorry if I fucked up.”

Her lips flatten for a second. Then she exhales. “No. It’s okay. It’s not like you kept it a secret for days.”

Still. Now I feel kind of shitty about it. After all, if the positions were reversed… “I should have told you. I promise I won’t keep anything from you, even for a few minutes.”

“It’s okay, Knox.” She strokes my palm with her thumb. “I get it. But yeah, next time, just tell me. I can handle it.”

Enzo coughs. With a hint of humor in his eyes, he asks, “Can we continue?”

“Yes, sorry.” I gesture at Officer Quillian to go on. “No more interruptions.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. “So. Vinnetti was found in the woods about two miles north of your property. A hunter was out scouting with his dog and came across the body.” With a frown, he adds, “We searched the area ourselves, but somehow we missed him.”

Enzo leans forward. “How long has he been dead? Do you know what killed him?”

“Forensics says about two weeks. So it would have been right after the break-in.” Officer Quillian’s gaze flickers to me before he continues, and a trickle of unease runs down my neck. “Given the blood loss and lack of other injuries, the coroner believes the cause of death was the gunshot wound Vinnetti sustained.”

Lark sucks in a sharp breath. “Ikilled him?”

“He died because of an untreated gunshot wound,” he corrects. “The coroner said if Vinnetti had gotten immediate medical attention, he would have survived.”

“But the police would have been called,” Enzo says. “And that asshole knew he would have been caught.” He glances at Lark. “Youdidn’t kill him. His choices did.”

Lark’s hand trembles in mine. “But he wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t shot him.”

“But you would have been,” Officer Quillian says. “There’s no question it was self-defense. And Enzo’s right. It didn’t have to be a life-threatening wound. Prompt medical attention would have saved that man’s life.”

Tears are welling up in Lark’s eyes, but she blinks them back.

My stomach twists into a knot.

Wanting to get through this, I ask Officer Quillian, “So you’ve identified this guy. Have you found a motive? Alec poured through all of her present and previous contacts, and he still hasn’t found anyone with motive to want Lark hurt.”

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