Allison Brennan - Fatal Secrets

“God, Sonia,” he murmured. “I wanted you since I first saw you.”

She saw he spoke the truth, in his unwavering gaze, heard the truth in his firm voice. Warmth spread through her body and soul, a sense of peace, of belonging. Could she have found her soul mate when she wasn’t even looking? In her entire adult life, she’d had half a dozen relationships lasting months, but had never felt this close, this intimate, this loved.

She touched Dean’s face, kissed him lightly on the lips, put her forehead to his and sighed.

Dean sensed a change inside Sonia, and he was at a loss for words. He was embarking on something new, something incredible, and didn’t want to blow it. Not with Sonia. This wasn’t a woman to be put aside for all but the few hours of the month he was willing to put his job on the back burner. She would be part of everything he did, work and play. He didn’t realize until then that he’d wanted someone he could share everything with. He’d always been reserved and demanded his privacy, but with Sonia he could bare everything.

A moment later, Sonia eased herself off his lap and held out her hand with a sly grin. “You’re not sleeping on the couch, Agent Hooper.”

He grabbed her hand. “I’m not?”

She yanked him up off the couch. He wasn’t expecting it, but Sonia was stronger than she looked. He stood easily, enjoying how her hard, defined muscles bulged just enough to give her the strength to lift him. She looked absolutely glorious standing in front of him completely naked.

“I have a very comfortable bed.” She glanced at her watch. “Not even midnight. My alarm goes off at six-thirty, I think maybe we can sacrifice thirty or forty minutes of shut-eye. You’re already pretty hot-looking, you don’t need much beauty sleep.”

Dean enjoyed this rare playful side of Sonia Knight.

He kissed her, then picked her up like a bride. “Direct me to your chambers.”

Her eyes brightened, and a curve of a smile had him wanting to take her away from everything and into a private world where he could discover her deepest thoughts and dreams, and fulfill her most intimate fantasies.

She pointed down the short hall, her finger waving lazily to the right, then lifted her head to kiss him.

He followed her direction and pushed open the door on the right, carrying her across the threshold. Her bedside lamp was on low, casting long shadows across her lacy white bedspread. The lazy movement of her ceiling fan overhead cut swatches in the dim light, but something was interfering with the perfectly symmetrical blades.

They both looked up at the same time. Sonia stifled a scream and Dean put her down as he reached for his gun that wasn’t there.

But a gun wouldn’t have done any good.

Hanging by a thin string from the edge of a fan blade was Greg Vega’s missing tongue.

Sonia watched the FBI Evidence Response Team process her house as she sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Dean’s car. Dean had insisted on his people taking jurisdiction, and she didn’t blame him-the FBI would give priority to her case, not just because it was related to an ongoing federal investigation, but because she was a federal agent targeted by a killer.

Her house. Her case .

She hated feeling like a victim again, and worked on battling the fear that came with the invasion of her sanctuary.

Her cell phone rang. She answered immediately when she saw Duke Rogan’s caller I.D. “You’re on your way?” she asked.

“Left the hospital five minutes ago. Had no trouble getting Riley released. Sean is tailing us, making sure no one is following, and one of your brother’s friends is playing tag team with Sean. I’ll get them to the safe house in Lake Tahoe without trouble, I promise.”

A huge weight lifted off her shoulders. As long as her family was safe, Sonia could focus on finding Greg Vega’s killer. Already her fight was returning.

“Thanks, Duke.”

“What about you?’

She knew what he meant. “It’s my job.”

“It’s not your job to get killed.”

“I have no intention of getting killed. I will find and arrest this prick. He picked the wrong person to fuck with.”

Dean slid into the driver’s seat, keeping his door open. Tension filled the car, his body so tight she could feel his anger. She wrapped up the conversation with Duke and told Dean, “Duke Rogan has my family and is heading for Tahoe.”

He said, “The agents I had sitting on the house swear no one entered. But they didn’t arrive until six-fifteen this evening.”

“You think the killer broke in before then?”

“Hell if I know. There’s evidence of a picked lock at the kitchen door. It’s partly hidden from the street. But ERT hasn’t been able to pick up any footprints in the backyard to suggest the killer hopped a fence out of sight. The only activity in the house was when your lights went on at eight p.m.”

“They’re on a timer.”

“ERT is finishing up here. They’ll confirm the tongue belongs to Vega-”

“Like there’s a doubt.”

“We still need confirmation. They’ve printed the place, searched extensively for any other surprises, but so far nothing. The UNSUB wore gloves, left nothing obvious behind. They’re pulling trace evidence and fibers to see what they can find.” He caught her eye. “I told Brian Stone, the team leader, everything.”

Sonia blushed and averted her eyes. She was embarrassed. Not because she and Dean had had sex in her living room, but because it was no longer a private, intimate moment. “I’m sorry.”

Dean grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly, so tightly she had to face him. He said, “Don’t apologize. I’m not sorry. I really hope you aren’t, either.”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

He relaxed. “I had to tell him the truth so they don’t pursue a false lead. Stone is discreet. He’s a former Marine, our head firearms instructor, and he directs our SWAT team.”

“Why is he here with ERT?”

“Half our agents are ERT certified. We pull them for their expertise, and Stone understands psychological warfare.”

“The killer hung the tongue to scare me. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out.”

“But they broke into your house to do it. Your bedroom. Where you should feel the safest. They want to wear you down, break you, so you make a mistake.”

“Then they’re going to be waiting a long time. I’m not broken over this. Pissed off, a little upset, feeling damn guilty I didn’t see the danger Vega was in. But not broken.”

He reached up and caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes and willed her body to relax.

“When can I check into the hotel? I’m beat and”-she looked through the windshield as three agents emerged from her house-“I really hate watching my house being invaded by your people. Or anyone.”

“Ten minutes, okay? And you’re not going to any hotel. You’re coming home with me.”

He jumped out of the car and shut the door. If he thought she was going to argue about it, he was wrong.

* * *

Dean watched Sonia sleep.

It was barely dawn, but Dean could only sleep a few hours before his internal clock woke him at five-thirty Friday morning.

He’d brought Sonia back to his sublet apartment. The FBI agent he was renting from was due back after the Fourth of July, four weeks from now, and Dean had expected to have his case against Xavier Jones wrapped up long before then.

Things had changed. Not only was Jones dead and the entire case spinning out of control, but he didn’t want to leave. Specifically, he didn’t want to leave Sonia.

Sonia had fallen asleep on the way to Dean’s apartment. She’d barely woken up as Dean led her up the four flights of stairs and into bed. She’d brought an overnight bag and barely managed to brush her teeth and pull on a tank top before collapsing into bed. Dean laid next to her and went out as soon as he heard her evenly breathing.