Page 89 of Jersey

"Caitlyn," I whisper, drawing her eyes up to me, and Hemlock stands, removing himself from in front of her just in time for me to drop to my knees and pull her against my chest.

Instead of staying situated with her line of sight over my shoulder and in the direction of the body, I lift her easily and sit down on the sofa with her in my lap.

Her sobs dampen my shirt, but nothing compares to the warmth of her in my arms.

My heart pounds as so many things I've struggled with in recent weeks are becoming crystal fucking clear.

Commotion swarms the house as the sheriff's department, finally having arrived after the scared young kid called in backup, arrives on the scene.

"Who shot him?" a big burly motherfucker asks as he grabs his utility belt before hiking it up a couple of inches.

"He shot hims-self," Caitlyn manages after pulling her head back from my chest.

I hold her a little tighter when it seems the trembling in her body shows no sign of stopping.

"Is that right?" he asks as he crouches beside the body.

I can sense the bravado in his tone, but the man looks like he's about to get sick all over the fucking crime scene.

"I have body-cam footage," Hemlock says as he steps forward and pulls his helmet off his head.

"I've heard about you guys," the cop says, pointing at my boss like he already has a bad taste in his mouth. "Did you make him shoot himself?"

"I have body-cam footage, including audio," Hemlock repeats. "Would you like to see it?"

The man pulls in a deep breath, his nose scrunching when it becomes clear that the scent of blood is getting to him, and then he dips his head before walking toward the front door.

"Don't touch anything in here," he says in my direction before disappearing.

I give all my attention back to Caitlyn, who is still clinging to me.

The nearness makes my heart soar, but I know better than to get comfortable with her in my arms. She's undoubtedly in shock, and we won't be able to stay like this forever.

"Kiva is outside with the guys," I whisper. "She was wandering around in the yard."

Another yet deeper sob rattles her entire frame, and all I can manage is to hold her a little tighter.

We sit like that for the longest time, and I can see the courage she's trying to display when she pulls her body back and swipes at the tears staining her cheeks.

"She's okay?"

"She's good. Out there enjoying all the attention she's getting," I tell her with a soft smile. I run my hand along her cheek, feeling like I've won an award when she leans her face into my touch. "We should probably get out of here."

"You won't believe the shit we found," Casper says, his voice coming through my earpiece.

"I think he hurt his kids," she whispers as if she can hear Casper through my mic but I know she can't.

"MilesLee," Casper says as I pull Caitlyn back to my chest. "She worked with his family for a brief time last spring. He killed his two children. The youngest looks to have been gone for days. My guess would be around the time he was slinking around her backyard."

"Fuck," someone says, their voice traveling through the mic.

"The older one," Casper continues. "Looks to have been shot early this morning. He left a note on what to do with his and his wife's body when they were found."

"Is his wife there in the home?" another team member asks.

"Wife died by suicide a year ago today," Casper says. "The note named Caitlyn Rudd as his wife."

"What the actual fuck? She's married to the sick fuck?"

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