Jaxon stopped abruptly in the driveway, staring up at the door. It was partially open as if in invitation. Don started past her, but she caught his arm. She was shaking. “Don’t go in. He might still be there.”
Don tried to put an arm around her. He had never seen Jaxon so shaken up. She looked fragile and grief stricken. She pulled away from him, her gaze darting around the yard, searching the terrain. “Don’t touch me, Don. Don’t come anywhere near me. If he even thinks I care about you, he’ll find a way to kill you.”
“You don’t know what’s in that house, Jaxx,” he protested. But a part of him didn’t want to go see if she was right. Evil seemed to permeate the house.
The MPs swaggered their way up the driveway. “You kids better not be wasting our time. What’s going on here? You know whose house this is?”
Jaxon nodded. “Mine. The Andrews’. Be careful. I think Tyler Drake has been here. I think he’s killed again.” She sat down abruptly on the lawn, her legs giving out.
The two MPs looked at each other. “Is this for real?” Everyone had heard about Tyler Drake, a former SEAL operative who had allegedly murdered his family, eluded capture, and was still hiding out somewhere. “Why would he come back here?”
Jaxon didn’t respond. The darkness in her was her answer. Tyler had killed the Andrews family because they had taken her in. She was his, and in his twisted mind they had usurped his position. It should have occurred to her that he would do such a thing. He had murdered her father, thinking her father had no right to her. The same with her mother and brother. Of course he would murder the Andrews. It would make perfect sense to him. She drew up her legs and began to rock herself back and forth. She only glanced up when the two MPs rushed from the house and began to vomit on the immaculate lawn.
* * *
Chapter One
Jaxon Montgomery snapped the clip into her handgun and glared at her partner. “This is a setup, Barry. I can smell it. It’s amazing to me that you don’t have a clue. Where’s your sixth sense? I thought men were supposed to have some kind of built-in survival instinct.”
Barry Radcliff snorted derisively. “You’re the one leading the party, honey, and we’re all following you.”
“My point, partner. You have no sense of self-preservation.” Jaxx threw him a teasing grin over her shoulder. “The entire lot of you are worthless.”
“True, but we have good taste. You look great from behind. We’re men, honey—we can’t help the hormones.”
“Is that your excuse? Hormones running amok? I thought you liked living on the edge, you gung-ho kamikaze type daredevils.”
“That’s you. We just go along to pull your cute little butt out of all the trouble you get into,” Barry returned. He glanced at his watch. “You’ve got to decide, Jaxx. Do we try it or call it off?”
Jaxx closed off her mind to everything—the darkness of the night, the biting cold, the adrenaline surging in her blood, needing action. The warehouse was too easily accessible; no way could they search the upper lofts without exposing themselves. She had never been all that happy with the informant. Everything in her screamed it was a setup and she and her fellow police officers were walking into an ambush.
Without hesitation she moved her mouth over the tiny radio. “Abort, guys. I want all of you to pull back and out. Signal when clear. Barry and I will cover until we hear from you. Go now.”
“That strong?” She could hear the grin in Barry’s voice. “Wonder woman.”
“Oh, shut up,” she replied rudely, her voice mild but edged with worry. Her eyes were restless, constantly moving, sweeping the entire area around them. The feeling of danger was intensifying.
The tiny receiver in her ear crackled. “Are we going to let a woman losing her nerve cost us the biggest bust in history?” That was the new guy. The one who had been placed on her team against her will. The one who had some kind of political pull in the department and was on his way up. Benton. Craig Benton.