Bri shook her head. “Sorry, Sheriff, but I came on my bike. I don’t think she should—”

“I’ll see that she gets home all right,” Flynn said. She’d released Allie’s hand but still stood close by her side.

“Good enough,” Reese said. “I’ll check in with you later, Tremont.”

“Okay, Sheriff.” Allie waited until the door closed behind Reese and Bri, then said to Flynn, “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“I’ll take some personal time. It’s no problem. I’ll keep my radio on and leave if I have to.”

“You sure?”

Flynn slipped her arm around Allie’s waist. “Yeah, positive. I want to stay with you a while.”

“Can you wait just a minute while I find out if I can see Ash?”

“Sure. I’ll wait out in the hall for you. I have to call the station house anyhow.”

“Thanks, Flynn. You’re terrific.”

“I’ll remind you of that the first time I piss you off.” Flynn grinned and walked Allie out to the hall, her arm still around Allie’s waist. The door to the treatment room opposite them swung open and Tory halted when she saw them, holding the door open.

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“Prefect timing. I was just about to deliver a status report,” Tory said.

Allie looked past Tory to where Ash lay on the treatment table, a sheet pulled up to her chest. Her shoulders were bare and her left shoulder was mottled with the beginning of a huge bruise. Her cheek was scraped and still bleeding. Ash Walker’s gaze skated over Allie’s face before moving to Flynn. Then she slowly closed her eyes and turned her face away.

Tory said, “I can give you a minute, but that’s about it right now.”

“I don’t want to interfere,” Allie said softly. Ash didn’t want to see her, that was clear enough. “I only wanted to be sure she would be all right.”

“Everything looks good so far.”

“That’s all I needed to know,” Allie said. “I won’t keep you, then.

We were just leaving.”

v

Rica stood back and admired the five new paintings she’d just hung on prominent display in the front of the gallery. She’d placed the main work, a 4 x 5 foot impressionistic rendering of a cityscape that appeared to be at once ethereal and ominous, on a half-wall in front of the street-level plate glass window where it would be eye-catching to passersby.

“What do you think?” she asked Caroline Clark.

“I think I should reconsider my choice of careers. God, she is so awesome.” Caroline shook her head, her shoulder-length flaxen hair teasing around her cheeks and sweeping her neck, making her look innocent and sweetly seductive at the same time. In her tight black hiphugger pants and red short-sleeved corset shirt, she’d been the object of admiring glances all day long. Rica had watched at least four people—

women and men—trying to pick her up, but Caroline was completely oblivious. The thin silver band on her left ring finger was more than an ornament, and Rica found her complete lack of guile refreshing and heartbreakingly tender.

“Give up painting? Really?” Rica said, carrying the final canvas she intended to display to the side wall opposite the one showcasing

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the featured works. She hung the brilliantly hued landscape depicting a sliver of land, sweeping dunes, and several ramshackle dune shacks overlooking a stormy ocean, and stepped back to admire it. The scene, while a frequent one in works of local artists, was captivating in the purity of color and the wild, untamed brushstrokes. Rica felt the wind against her face and tasted the tang of salt water just looking at it. “Well then, I’m not sure I should sell this. In ten years, I might be able to retire on it.”

Caroline gasped. “That’s mine.”

“It certainly is, and I hope there’s more where this came from. I love it.”

“You do? Really?”

Rica slipped her arm around Caroline’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “Sweetheart, it’s terrific. I know you just brought it over for me to see, but you don’t mind if I show it, do you?”

“Mind? Oh my God! Oh, I can’t wait to tell Bri!” Caroline threw her arms around Rica’s neck and hugged her exuberantly. “You’re the best. I love you. I love you.”

Laughing, Rica hugged her back.

v

He leaned against the storefront opposite the gallery, sipping coffee from a paper cup and watching them through the front window.

Watching them caress each other—their breasts molded together, their hips pressing, parting, pressing again—made him wish they were naked. Women together aroused him. He liked watching them in videos, their long hair sweeping over full breasts and soft bellies.

He liked to imagine one of the women was her—just like now—and he would stroke himself, biding his time. In the end, she would turn to him, open her arms to him, and beg him to give her what she truly needed. The pictures in magazines weren’t as satisfying as the videos, and the videos couldn’t come close to exciting him the way watching her like this did. Smiling, he thought about following her home. Maybe she would leave the light on in her bedroom. He slid his hand into his pocket and fingered the square of red silk he’d cut from the shirt. He rubbed it up and down inside his pocket, over the ridge of his erection.

The first time he’d seen her after—after—he’d gotten so hard he’d

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almost taken her right then, not caring who might’ve seen or heard. He’d barely managed to restrain himself, but now he was so glad that he had.

Watching her, envisioning all the different ways he would touch her and taste her, was proving to be so much more satisfying than having her just once. And there were all the others to amuse himself with—all the pretty women. Her friends. All for him.

Suddenly, a figure cut across his line of vision, striding rapidly toward the front door of the gallery. He stepped back into the shadows, his fingers stilling against his cock. Pressure built in his chest, his head pounded. One of them. He’d been so intent on her, he hadn’t seen which one it was, but they were all the same. They defiled what was rightfully his. Maybe he didn’t have to wait for his pleasure. Maybe it was time to take one of them.

v

The chime above the door sounded, and Bri walked into the gallery. Stopping abruptly with her hands on her hips, she cocked her head and growled, “Hey! What am I missing here?”

Caroline looked over her shoulder, her arms still around Rica’s waist. “Hi, baby.” She tilted her head toward the wall. “Look!”

Bri followed her gaze and grinned. “Oh yeah. What did I tell you?”

She opened her arms and Caroline threw herself at her. Laughing, Bri kissed her, sliding her hands down her back to cup her butt. Caroline wrapped her arms around Bri’s neck and hooked her heel behind Bri’s leg. Bri broke off the kiss after half a minute and whispered in her ear,

“You’re going to be famous, babe. Just wait and see.”

“I don’t care about that,” Caroline said. “I just want you to be proud of me.”

Bri nuzzled her neck. “Always, babe. Always.”

Rica laughed, wondering if she should break them up or just charge admission. She settled for tapping Bri on the shoulder. “Hi, Bri.”

“Hey, Rica.” Reluctantly, Bri loosened her hold on Caroline, who eased away a few inches and pushed her hand into Bri’s back pocket, gripping her ass. “She’s really good, huh?”

“She really is.”

“Okay, okay,” Caroline protested. “Enough already. Where have you been, baby? I thought you were going to meet me for dinner.”

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“I would have, but Allie and Ash got caught in a building collapse this afternoon. I was at the clinic.”

“Are they okay?” Caroline asked anxiously.

“Yeah. They’re both going to be fine.”

“Was anyone else with them?” Rica asked. “Is Carter all right? I haven’t heard from her all afternoon.”

“Carter’s probably still there, securing the scene. She’s good.” Bri checked the time, then said apologetically, “We should go, babe. I, uh, need to talk to you before I get ready for work.”

Caroline asked Rica, “Do you need me to help close up or anything?”

“No. You go ahead. Thanks for giving me a hand getting these paintings uncrated and hung.” Rica dimmed the lights in the front of the gallery. “I’ll be leaving soon myself.”

Caroline kissed Rica’s cheek. “Thanks again. You’ve made me so happy.”

“You deserve it.” Rica hugged Caroline. “Now go, before Bri busts something. From the way she’s looking at you, I think you better go straight home.”

“Oh, she always looks at me that way,” Caroline confided with a tiny smirk.

“Lucky you.” Rica laughed. “Get out of here, you two.”

Rica held the door for them, still smiling as they sauntered off, arms around each other. She watched them, wondering what it would have been like if she’d met Carter when she was their age. Her father had made it clear before she was out of her teens that he expected her to marry, preferably the man of his choice. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself when she thought of Lorenzo Brassi and his dark hungry eyes, undressing her, devouring her, as if she were already his.

But Enzo was gone, and she had Carter. She would have fallen in love with Carter at any age, and that thought was enough to warm her all the way through. She closed the door and went in search of her phone, unsure why she suddenly felt so unsettled. All she knew was that she needed to hear Carter’s voice.

v

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“He’s out?” Caroline asked softly, dropping abruptly onto the side of the bed. She clasped her hands together in her lap and stared at Bri.

Bri nodded, hating the tremor of fear she heard in Carre’s voice, even though Carre tried hard to hide it. “We don’t know he’s here, babe.

Okay? You just need to be careful. Don’t walk around alone at night.

Make sure the doors are locked. Keep your phone with you all the time, even when you’re in the house.”

“What about you? Will you be all right?”

“Hey,” Bri said, putting a swagger in her voice. “I’m a cop, babe.

You don’t have to worry about me.”

Caroline laughed and shook her head. “You are so full of it.”

She patted the bed next to her. “Come here and hold me for a few minutes.”

Bri covered the distance in one second flat. She stretched out on top of their platform bed and pulled Carre into her arms. “It’s going to be okay, babe. Reese will find him, if he’s here.”

Caroline rubbed her hand back and forth over Bri’s chest. “You’ll be careful too, right? Even if you are a big tough cop?”

“Count on it.”

“And like you said, he might not be here at all, right?”

“Right.” Bri tightened her hold, wishing she could stay there for the rest of the night. She felt him. He was out there somewhere, she knew it.

• 129 •

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chapteR fOuRteen

Turn here,” Allie told Flynn, pointing to a narrow one-way street near the center of town that ran between Commercial and Bradford. “I’m about halfway up on the right. I used to rent a place in Wellfleet, but I can walk to work from here.”

“I know what you mean. One of the perks of small-town living.”

Flynn pulled her Jeep Wrangler into the small three-car parking lot in front of a six-foot wooden privacy fence. She’d hitched a ride with one of the EMTs at the clinic to pick up her Jeep earlier so she could take Allie home.

“I’ve got the apartment in the back.” Allie led Flynn through the gate into a postage-stamp-sized yard. One of the things she loved about her apartment was that she had her own entrance and didn’t have to see anyone coming or going. If she brought women home, she wasn’t broadcasting her business. Not that there’d been very many. Come to think of it, there hadn’t been any for the six months she’d lived there.

During the summer she’d always gone to Deo’s condo, and before Deo, she’d mostly been trysting with pickups in their rooms. Now she was bringing Flynn home, and she was nervous. She never got nervous with women. She unlocked the door that opened on her kitchen and held it open.

Flynn looked around after Allie turned on the light. “This is nice.”

She slid her hands in the back pockets of her navy blue uniform pants.

“So can I fix you anything? Tea? A drink, maybe?”

“You know what?” Allie said. “I’m filthy and I could really use a

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shower. After that, a beer, I think. Do you mind helping yourself?” She pointed to the door opposite the one they came in. “Living room is right through there. It will only take me a few minutes.”