Page 9 of Cruel Savior

I was not him.

"Fine. You don't need anyone's help. Message received. That doesn't change the fact I'm here until this situation is resolved. So, I guess you can keep working alone, in which case I'll be here in the background doing the same thing. Or maybe we cooperate, and together we can get this figured out in half the time. Which means I'm out of here sooner rather than later."

She looked ready to tell me where to go.

I was ready to argue with her until I wore her into the ground. I wasn't particularly patient, but I was persistent. And I didn't like to lose. Ever. I had my next line of reasoning ready to go when she opened her mouth and said the last thing I expected.

"Whatever. Do what you want. Except let's get one thing straight, right now. You are not staying in the house. There's a gym out back. You can stay in there."

Say what now? "Excuse me?"

"I said, okay. I'm too tired to keep standing here arguing and I can see it's going to get us nowhere. And since I'm not in the right mood for a standoff, I will concede to us working together. Under conditions, of course."

"Which are?"

"I already stated one. You don't stay in the house."

"Okay." That suited me fine. More space between us the better. "Is there a second?"

She plopped her hands on her hips."Hell, yes. Second, no personal questions. I'll talk about the case all you want, but if you start getting personal, you're out of here."

"You're pretty fucking bossy."

She glared. "And that brings me to condition number three. I am in charge of this investigation. This is my fucking case, and I've agreed to let you assist. Do not even think about taking charge."

Someone needed a goddamned spanking. And a lesson or two in humility. I was getting paid to do a job. However, for the sake of argument, I could let her have a little moment and let her be in charge. Temporarily.

"Anything else?"

She smiled, but it rang hollow. Her eyes remained as cool as ever, reminding me once again of who I was dealing with. Amanda Turner, a woman without feelings.

"I like my coffee black, with a dollop of cream, no sugar. Do you think you can handle that?"

I didn't bother to give her a response. She could take her coffee and shove it up her...

"I've already created a profile and a list of potential suspects," she said, interrupting my thoughts. "One of the cases you are going to be quite familiar with. Are you ready for that?" She turned on her heel, punched in a code at the front door and disappeared inside, leaving me standing there like a jackass with no choice but to follow her. I grated my teeth together hoping I wasn't about to make the worst possible mistake of my life and followed her inside.

One glance around and I wanted to roll my eyes. While I'd expected no less, because Turner liked to flaunt his wealth at every chance, of course his cabin was the equivalent of a fucking mansion. As far as I was concerned, it was an insult to cabins. Cabins were supposed to be small and make you feel comfortable, not make you stiff and afraid to touch any damned thing.

"This is a bit much."

She stopped and looked back at me. "What? The cabin?"

"It's not a fucking cabin. I thought your father was a hunter. This does not look like a place you bring a kill to so you can clean it up."

She shrugged. "My father doesn’t clean anything. That’s not his style. He has someone else handle that, and by the time they make it here, they look like that." She pointed to one of the many animal heads hanging on the wall.

"You all are so privileged it hurts. I'm not sure I realized exactly how much until now."

"You can paint me with the same brush as my father if you want. But I haven't lived here in a long time, and this is no longer my reality."

I let it drop despite the many questions that went through my mind. All I saw was a rich, spoiled princess with too much time, money, and guns. If it wasn't for her father and his influence, she would probably be rotting in a jail somewhere.

"Since I didn't expect anyone would be joining me out here, I set up everything in here." She led the way into a bedroom.

I gaped at what she’d done. There were maps on the walls. Photographs were pinned to several corkboards, along with sheets next to each photograph that I couldn't read this far away, and a giant whiteboard she'd obviously been using to brainstorm her random thoughts. I wanted to start organizing it all into a system to identify any patterns.

But first things first. "What are the maps?" I moved closer. "This one is Sultan and its surrounding areas. But what's this one?" The largest of the three had many topographical details and obviously encompassed a great amount of land mass around Sultan and extended to the base of the mountains. If I was reading it correctly, this property went on for miles."

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