Cynthia Eden - After The Dark

Lewis pointed a shaking finger at Blake. “You’re FBI! I did some digging on you. You’re supposed to be some hotshot...”

He was? Since when?

Lewis took an aggressive step toward him. “Why the hell did you let him get away? If he was close enough for him to nearly kill Sammie, then he was close enough for you to grab!” The captain shook with accusation. “This is on you, agent. You should have stopped him! Tammy White would be on her way to a hospital and you—”

“Stop.” Samantha’s hand curled around Lewis’s arm.

Immediately, Lewis seemed to sag in on himself.

“Blake went to help me. When the first bomb went off, I was in the water. He didn’t...” Samantha shot him a quick glance. “He didn’t know if I was alive or dead. We were partners at the FBI. A partner always watches your back. His job was to come after me. To help me. He jumped into the water for me.”

And he wouldn’t have gone out without her. But not just because they’d been partners. Because she was so much more to him.

“A partner always watches your back.” Lewis’s voice had gone soft as he repeated her. “Well, then...” Lewis nodded once, seemingly coming to some sort of decision. “You keep doing that shit, Agent Gamble. Because if something happens to Sammie, I’ll be coming after you myself.” Someone called out for the captain, and he said, “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

Samantha watched him walk away. “Sorry,” she said, her voice still lacking emotion. “Sometimes, his protective instincts can come out a bit too strong.”

Blake wanted to put his arms around her and pull her against him—the fear was still like acid burning his blood. But there were too many eyes on them. “Sometimes?” he murmured. “Sometimes, Sammie?”

Her gaze cut to him. Bright lights illuminated the scene and her suddenly tense expression. “Don’t. Only Lewis gets away with calling me that. To everyone else, I’m Samantha or I’m Sam.” She paused. “My dad called me Sammie, okay? My dad and Lewis. They worked together, a long time ago. And after my dad died, Lewis was the one who looked out for me.” A faint smile curved her lips. “He was the one who ran off my boyfriends. Who made sure that no one ever gave me any trouble.” Her smile slipped away. “I could’ve used him in DC.”

You had me. I’d stand between you and trouble.

“He’s a good man,” she continued, “and a fine cop, but he’s been working this small town for over twenty years. Fairhope doesn’t get killers like this one. He’s going to need our help.”

Our. He liked the way she said that.

“I’ve already put in some calls,” Blake said. “We’ll get one of our forensic teams to the area.” He wanted their team examining any material that was found from the bomb device. But hell, since the bomb had been in the water, the tide could have carried that material all over the bay—making his job so much harder.

Lewis hurried back to them. “My men are going to keep combing the area.”

A shiver slid over Samantha.

Lewis frowned at her. “You two need to go home and get changed. We’ve got this search, for now. And if you really believe this crazy SOB will be contacting you again...”

“He will.” Samantha spoke with absolute certainty.

Lewis gave a grim nod. “Then you need to get some rest so that you can be ready for him.”

“Lewis—”

“Don’t even think of arguing with me, Sammie. My town, my rules. I want you to go home.” Lewis was standing firm on this one. But he eased closer to her, and Blake heard his voice soften. “If he’s gunning for you, then you need to be at the top of your game. You have to rest.”

“But Tammy...”

“You can’t do anything for her right now.” Lewis’s voice was still...well, not gentle, but kind as he spoke to Samantha. “You have to take care of yourself first.”

Samantha had always put the victims first, so Blake knew she wasn’t happy even as she gritted, “Fine. Your crime scene. For the moment.” Her chin lifted. She’s thinking the FBI will be taking over soon, and she’s right.

Blake cleared his throat. “I’m going to contact Executive Assistant Director Bass again about this case. I came down here on a hunch, but now I need more manpower.” Not just local cops and fresh-faced FBI agents from the Mobile, Alabama, office. He wanted his team from Violent Crimes there. He wanted agents who were used to dealing with killers of this caliber.

“Executive Assistant Director Blind-ass Bass?” Lewis said. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Lewis...” Samantha warned.

“The guy fired his best profiler! Hell, no, I don’t have confidence in him. But you—” Lewis cocked his head as he studied Blake “—you... I might be able to work with you.”

Good, because you have to work with me. “We’ll be back at first light,” Blake told him. “If you find anything before then, you call me.” He rattled off his number, and Lewis put it in his phone.

But then the guy’s gaze swept over him. “Just where will you be?”

“Excuse me?”

Lewis jerked his thumb toward Samantha. “She’s obviously a target. If anyone needs protection...say protection provided by the FBI...” His drawl thickened. “It will be Sammie. That’s why I’m asking...where will you be? Holed up in some hotel? Or watching her back?”

Blake was starting to like this guy. A straight shooter who didn’t waste time with bullshit. “Until we catch this bastard, I’ll be staying at Samantha’s place.”

“Damn straight.” Lewis spoke as if it had been his decision. “Like I said, I might be able to work with you.” Then he turned on his heel and headed toward the cops who were at the remains of the pier.

Samantha waited until he was gone, then she leaned in close. “You don’t...have to stay with me. I assure you, I can take care of myself.”

He knew that Samantha was strong. That she could fire a gun better than any other agent. That she could take down men twice her size in a blink. But he also knew...

This is Samantha. And she matters too much. He caught her hand. “You don’t get a choice on this. This guy wants you dead.” To leave her alone now? Oh, hell, no. “Welcome to protective custody.”

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