Well, actually, he’d been crying all along. Ever since Dean’s first punch had crunched into his cheekbone.
“Is it possible?” she asked. “Sure. Anything’s possible, isn’t it?” Stacey, who looked so bone-weary she appeared on the verge of dropping, rubbed an exhausted hand over her eyes. “Do I think so? No.”
“You know he killed your dad’s dog.”
“He swears he hit her by accident when he was angry and out looking for me. That he did the rest only after Lady was dead.”
“And you believe that?”
She didn’t answer, looking as though she really didn’t want to know the truth right now. Maybe it was easier to believe that version, and he supposed it was at least possible. Even if it was true, Monroe was one sick bastard.
“I do suspect he’s the one who’s made some late-night anonymous calls to me this week.”
He gawked, not having heard that part before now. “He’s obviously unstable.”
Judging by the things Monroe said in the back of Stacey’s squad car, he had been for a long time. He seemed to think he was in love with her because she’d had the really bad judgment to go out with him once when they were teenagers. He’d been obsessing about her since the day she’d come back to town.
The hateful act with the dog? All about punishing her for being with Dean at the diner.
Tonight’s break-in? Simple, unrelenting lust. His parents had gone out of town, the leash was loosened, and he’d been unable to resist his depraved urges. Maybe he’d just come over to spy on her and had taken his shot at stealing her panties when he realized she wasn’t home. Who knew what the sick creep had been thinking?
“If he was the Reaper, don’t you think he would have just killed me when I pissed him off so much by being with you? Why the stupid, petty games? Why not grab me, take me somewhere, rape me, and slit my throat for his viewing audience?”
Jesus, did he hate hearing those tired, matter-of-fact words coming out of her mouth. “I want to hurt him,” he growled, still feeling the black cloud of rage that had enveloped him when he’d seen the man in her room. The thought of what might have happened had he not accompanied Stacey home tonight haunted him. Yes, she could take care of herself. But she was exhausted and vulnerable. Any woman walking in on something like that might be slow to react. Even this incredibly competent one.
His whole body shook, and he clenched his fists, pounding them on her desk, trying to force the fury away.
“I’m okay,” she said softly, putting both her hands over his. “Dean, I’m all right.”
Thank God. He couldn’t even imagine what he’d do if something happened to her.
He hadn’t realized it until now. Yes, he’d said the words to her, told her she wasn’t alone. But he hadn’t realized until he’d walked into her bedroom and seen the attempted mind-rape that prick Monroe was trying to inflict on her, that he had fallen in love with the woman. Fallen fast, but fallen hard. And he would do anything to keep her from harm.
“I don’t think I can stand up straight anymore,” she mumbled. Her beautiful face was haggard. Brown, half-moon smudges filled the hollows beneath her eyes.
“Go home,” he said. He looked out the window, where dawn had begun to break. “It’s almost six.”
“You need me.”
“I don’t need you unconscious and collapsing from sheer exhaustion.” Acknowledging that he was on the verge of the same thing, he added, “Come back with me to my room at the inn. We’ll both crash for two hours, then get back here around eight and wait for Wyatt to call. He swears Lily’s had a major break and should know something this morning. And if she doesn’t, we won’t waste time. We’ll get a warrant and search Monroe’s house.”
No, he didn’t really believe that weak, simpering prick was the Reaper. But it was something to go on, a thin lifeline to continue the investigation.
“I want to go home.”
He frowned, hating the thought of her walking back into that house.
“Believe me, I’ll be throwing my underwear and my bedding out, but I really need to be in my own place. Besides, I don’t think it would be good for your fellow agents to see me leave your room later.”
She had a point. “Okay, I’ll come with you, then.”
“No, honestly, it’s all right. I’m tired, but I’m also horny, and if you come home with me, I’ll seduce you so neither one of us gets any sleep.”
That didn’t sound like such a bad thing. At least, not at any other time. But today, there was too much at stake. “All right, you win. But I do demand a rain check.”
“You’ve got it, and I’ll hold you to it.”
Their stares met, and for an instant they were both back in the car, wrapped around each other, acknowledging in silence what he, at least, had already acknowledged in his head: They cared about each other. More than cared, on his part. Yet this wasn’t the place and certainly wasn’t the time to find out if she felt the same way.
“Let me make a couple of calls and then we’ll go,” she said. “I need to let the DA’s office know about Rob so they can wake up a judge and get us a warrant.”
He gave her fifteen minutes to make her calls. Then, as the sun rose and morning spilled through the windows, he took her by the arm and led her toward the exit.
“Sheriff?” the deputy at the front desk said.
“What is it, Frank?”
“I got a call a few minutes ago from Mrs. Covey.”
Dean tensed. Hours ago, he’d been convinced Randy Covey was the brutal killer who stalked Satan’s Playground. Now, even though he knew better, his head still pounded when he heard the name.
“Is there any word on Randy’s condition?” she asked.
“He’s unconscious, but it sounds like he’ll pull through. She said she’s been unable to reach Seth. I guess he was out when Mrs. Covey was notified, and she raced away, leaving him a note. He hasn’t responded or shown up at the hospital. Now she’s worrying herself into fits about him, too.”
From the way she had talked about Randy’s mother, Dean knew Stacey didn’t like the woman. But sympathy for a mother’s fear made her nod in understanding. “I’ll swing by their place, make sure he’s okay, then let him know about his dad.”
“Now?” He glanced at his watch. “He’s a twenty-year-old kid, and it’s not even seven a.m. He’s probably dead-to-the-world asleep.”
“If the situation weren’t urgent, I’d do it later. But Randy is in bad shape. If something had happened to my father, I’d want to know.”
Being close to his own father, he completely understood the reasoning.
“Besides, I like Frank and would rather spare him any more frenzied calls from Mrs. Covey. And it’s the least I can do, given what we thought.”
He dropped a hand on her shoulder. “We thought that for very good reasons.”
“I know.”
They walked to the squad car, and Dean rode shotgun. He’d left his agency car at her father’s house. Since Stacey was going right by it to visit the Coveys, he’d asked her to drop him off so he could retrieve it.
When they got there, he turned to her. “Go home and sleep.”
“I’ll try.”
He reached for the door handle, then turned back with a frown. “Don’t spend a lot of time at Covey’s. You need to rest.”
She put her hand up and made an old scout’s-honor sign. “Promise.”
Kissing her again, he got out and went to his car. As she turned around to drive straight out the long driveway and he followed, he couldn’t tear his attention off the back of her head. He watched the weary droop and noted the tangle of her long hair.
He was worried. Well, he’d been worried for days, but this was something else. His cop’s sixth sense tingled, telling him something was off. Something was happening that he didn’t know about.