Cynthia Eden - Fear For Me

Her lips pressed together, then she said, “I want to come with you.”

“Baby, that’s not—”

Her head jerked up. “I’m not your baby.”

Talk about a slip. He sure hadn’t meant for that to roll out.

“What I am…I’m the DA in this town. I want the people here to know we’re doing everything possible to keep the city safe, and I want justice for Karen.” She swallowed. The faint click almost seemed painful to his ears because he knew she was trying to push away the grief from her friend’s death. “I won’t get in your way, but I will be involved, and if I have to go over your head to do it, then I—”

Static crackled on the elevator’s intercom. “Ms. Chandler?”

Her head turned toward the security camera near the speaker in the left corner.

“Do you need assistance?” that crackling voice asked.

She leaned around Anthony, her body brushing lightly against his, and pressed the button to restart the elevator. “No, thank you. We’re good.”

The elevator rose. Their gazes held.

He hadn’t agreed to let her tag along on his hunt.

She hadn’t backed down.

Just like old times.

The doors slid open. “I can help you,” she said quietly as they headed toward the judge’s chambers. “I’m the one who talked to Walker’s friends before and after the trial. I’m the one who interviewed the witnesses. I know him and his habits far better than you.”

Maybe that was true, but he still wanted her away from the danger.

Not getting up close and personal with it.

She waved to a guard, then paused near the judge’s closed chamber doors. The flush had left her cheeks. Now she studied him with a cool gaze. “Unless you don’t think you can manage to keep me safe while I’m with you and your entire team of marshals. Is that the issue? Maybe my safety is too much to ask?”

He almost smiled. Would have, if he hadn’t been so worried about the twisted killer on the loose. “I can do my job.”

“Good. And I can do mine.” She turned away from him. Knocked on the door. “Judge Hamilton!” Her voice rose.

The judge’s secretary wasn’t at her desk. Anthony wasn’t in the mood to wait around for the lady to return so that she could announce his arrival. He didn’t have time to kill. He pulled Lauren back and shoved open the door.

The judge stood just a few feet away from the door. His black robe billowed around him. His face, pale and haggard, reflected his fear.

“What took you both so damn long?” Pierce Hamilton waved his hands, motioning to hurry inside. “What the hell is going on? How did Walker get out?” He marched around to sit behind his big, antique mahogany desk.

Lauren eased into the lush leather chair across from the judge. Anthony didn’t bother sitting. “He stabbed himself with a shiv, got taken to the infirmary at Angola, then he managed to kill a guard and the doctor on duty.”

Hamilton flinched but his gaze didn’t waver. “Did he have help? Is the bastard working alone?”

Now this was the dicey part. “We haven’t found any connection to anyone else…yet.” But Anthony’s instincts were in overdrive. The guy had gotten away from the prison too quickly. Had transportation been waiting? An old friend—or even a new one—who’d been willing to help the Bayou Butcher? Anthony had someone searching through all the visitor records at the prison. If there was a link to anyone who could possibly have assisted Walker, then he would find that link.

Fuck, the last thing they needed was to discover that Walker had an accomplice out there. Someone to help the sick freak with his crimes.

“We’re going to talk to all of Walker’s acquaintances next,” Lauren said, her voice the smooth cream that lulled jurors into believing every word she said. “If he’s working with someone, we’ll find out.”

But her voice didn’t seem to be lulling Hamilton.

“I’m going to hunt Walker based on what we already know about him.” Anthony could see the judge wanted reassurance that Walker would be caught. Well, he’d do his fucking best. “Walker was always at home in the swamps. He knows that area like the back of his hand. We’re going to search there, because the swamps would be the perfect hiding spot for him. Isolated, secure. He would feel in control there.”

“And Walker was always about control,” Lauren murmured.

Yes, he had been.

“His cabin,” Hamilton said, frowning, “that damn place where he kept all of his trophies—”

Anthony saw Lauren swallow. He didn’t like remembering that place, either. “We’re going to search it. Trust me, judge, I know how to do my damn job.”

Hamilton didn’t look reassured. He looked like he was about to break apart. “We’re off the record here,” Hamilton said as he ran a hand through his graying hair. “So far off.”

Lauren glanced over at Anthony, then nodded. “All right.”

“I was sleeping with Karen.” His fingers flattened on the table as his gaze cut to Lauren. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

It was sure news to Anthony. Karen Royce had been an investigator at the DA’s office. He’d met her a few times before, back when they’d all been working the Butcher case.

Hamilton was a married man, tied to old southern money. Had his wife known about the affair?

“That’s why you and Lauren fought at the courthouse, isn’t it?” Hamilton continued. “You think I didn’t hear about that? Hell, gossip travels like wildfire here. You found out about us…”

“I knew,” Lauren said softly.

Hamilton’s hands slapped against the desk. “And you didn’t call to tell me about her murder? A murder that happened right in your own damn home?” Anger ripped through his words. “I had to find out about it on the news. I had to—”

“Right after her body was discovered, I was taken to the precinct, surrounded by cops and reporters. Did you really think that if I stopped to call you then , it wouldn’t be noted?”

The judge’s eyes glittered, but he didn’t speak.

“Karen told me you two had broken things off. She told me that I didn’t need to worry about her because it was over with you.”

“We would have worked it out. We would have—”

“You’re married.” Her voice was flat. “Karen told me she didn’t want to be involved with you anymore. She was done—she hated that she’d been with you. Hated that she’d let you use her.” Anger flashed across Lauren’s face. “Dammit, Hamilton, you have a ring on your finger. It’s supposed to mean something.”

The ring gleamed dully. The judge’s eyes narrowed. “My wife knew about Karen. She didn’t care—”

“Maybe Karen deserved better than to be your dirty little secret.”

He surged to his feet. “Maybe she deserved better than to die in your place!”

Fuck that. Anthony jumped between them. “Judge, you need to calm the hell down.”

The judge sucked in a deep breath. “He went after Lauren, didn’t he? Her house, her bedroom. Karen was just in the wrong place. I called her—told her I was coming over to her house…” His words tumbled out. “I wanted to talk. I was willing to do anything to get her back.” His body trembled. “She told me she wouldn’t be home. Karen left—went to her place, and she died in her —”

“If it was Walker, then he knew exactly who Karen Royce was,” Anthony cut in before the judge could say anything else. “If he was the one who killed her, then it was deliberate. Maybe he was trying to send a message with her death.”

The judge suddenly looked much older as the lines on his face appeared to deepen. “What message?”