Bryan surged to his feet and stepped in front of her so fast that it shocked her. She sat there staring up at the back of his T-shirt, noticing how his wide shoulders offset his narrow hips. God, he was built. This was not the lean, lanky nineteen-year-old she’d left behind. His arms were cut, probably all flexed out like that because of the way he was clenching his fists at his sides, as if ready to take on all comers in her defense. It made her belly clench up and her heart beat faster.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Who the hell is there?” Bryan demanded.
“Hey, Kendall, is that you?” The steps came closer.
“Rico?” Bryan’s fists unclenched, and she heard his breath flowing out all at once, like a mini-windstorm. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he said, “It’s okay. It’s my partner, Rico Chavez. We call him Rico Suave—he’s pretty smooth with the women.”
By the time he finished his explanation, Rico was coming toward them along the garden path. He was a relatively short bronze-skinned hunk with black curly hair cut close to his head, and when he saw Dawn, he hesitated. “Sorry, man. I hope I’m not—”
“It’s fine,” Bryan said. “Rico, this is Dawn Jones.”
“Oh.” Rico’s thick brows went up as he stared at her a little too intently. And then he asked, “The Dawn?” And Bryan groaned and nodded.
Rico came closer, better to check her out. He smiled, a bright white smile in that copper-skinned face, and offered her a hand, then sent a not-so-subtle nod of approval Bryan’s way.
So apparently Bryan had told his partner about her. That warmed her way more than it probably ought to.
“Don’t you believe anything they say about my man, here,” Rico said. Then he looked at Bryan, and his smile turned serious. “I got your back, Bry. I hope you know it. No question. I don’t doubt you.”
Bryan nodded. “Thanks, Rico. That means a lot to me.”
“I think they’re close to, uh…” He shifted his eyes to Dawn and then back to Bryan again.
“Arresting me?”
Dawn felt her blood run cold, not even believing the words had crossed Bryan’s lips. “No,” she whispered. “No, that can’t be.”
“Sorry, man,” Rico said. “I don’t think it’ll be tonight. Maybe tomorrow, though. She’s got your skin under her nails, your hairs on her pillow—” He bit his lip. “Sorry.”
“That’s bullshit,” Dawn blurted. “He was sleeping with her. Naturally his DNA would be all over her.”
Then she pressed a hand to her suddenly queasy stomach and turned her back on both of them. She realized she wasn’t just sick at the thought of Bryan going to jail, but at the thought of him making love to another woman. God, why would it hit her this powerfully? And why right now? Had she really thought he’d been celibate all this time, just because she had?
“There’s no sign of anyone else, man. Not in the bed or on the body,” Rico explained.
“Why is that so strange?” Dawn demanded. They both looked at her, questioningly, so she went on. “You didn’t say anything about the Nightcap Strangler raping his victims.”
“You’re right,” Bryan told her. “He didn’t rape any of them.”
“So, whether this is him or a copycat, he won’t be raping them, either. Right? So why expect to find his—”
Bryan held up a hand to stop her words. But Rico was nodding hard. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s right. I said the same thing to the chief not two hours ago, but damn, it’s like talking to a brick wall.” He sighed, sounding angry. “I figured you’d need time to decide how to make bail. Listen, man, I got a few grand stashed away, if you need it.”
“Thanks.” Bryan put a hand on his shoulder, lowering his own head. “For the warning and the offer. But mostly for believing me. I appreciate it more than you know.”
Rico nodded. “De nada, partner. Good to finally meet you, Dawn.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Rico,” she said. And then Rico turned and headed back toward the house.
Dawn turned to blink up into Bryan’s eyes. Hers were wet, but she hoped he wouldn’t see that in the growing darkness. “They’re going to arrest you.”
“I’ll make bail. And we’ll find out who did this and—”
“Maybe…maybe I can help,” she told him. “Really help, I mean.”
Bryan seemed blank only for a moment; then he apparently got what she was saying and shook his head, backing away a step as he did. “You mean…you mean by trying to revive the ability you’ve spent the past five years trying to get rid of? No. No way, Dawn.”
“Just listen. How better to find out who killed Bette than to ask her? And who else are you going to get to do that for you?”
He continued shaking his head. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” he demanded. “You’ve been hiding out from this gift you call a curse for five years. You threw away everything we had because of it. Now you’re just going to welcome it back with open arms?”
“To save you from life in prison? Yeah, Bry, with open arms. Wide open.”
He pushed a hand through his hair and tipped his head up toward the glittering stars above them. “You left home over this,” he said. Then he lowered his head and stabbed her eyes with his. “You left me over this.”
“We’re not going to talk about that. We’re not going to waste our time and attention on what’s gone by, Bryan. There’s nothing we can do about it, anyway. It’s in the past. We need to focus on finding out who murdered that poor girl.”
“It’s not in the past. Not for me. You destroyed me, Dawn.” He drew a breath, still holding her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not liking what she saw in his eyes just then. Anger. Unexpressed until now, so it had festered. She’d really ruined things with him, and done it in spades. She hadn’t left any room to fix it now.
So she decided to change the topic, because that one hurt too badly to think about. “You still haven’t told me why you were going through all those files on the Nightcap Strangler case. Are you going to?”
“Yeah, but you can’t tell Nick.”
She nodded, but she thought she already knew. “You were beginning to suspect that he’d arrested the wrong man, weren’t you, Bryan? And I’ll bet the real killer found out somehow, was afraid you were going to catch him and killed Bette to distract you—or maybe even to frame you. That’s it, isn’t it?”
He held her eyes a moment longer, then smiled a little, all that pent-up anger seeming to dissipate as his gaze roamed her face. “You’re still some kind of aspiring Nancy Drew, aren’t you, Dawn?”
“I’m too old to be Nancy Drew.” Then she shrugged. “But yeah, I guess I am still into the crime-solving thing. I just didn’t realize it until I got here. You have to admit we were good at it. Helped save our friend from a homicidal headcase before we were out of our teens. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“No, Nancy. You’re dead wrong. It was a great theory, though.”
She frowned hard, not sure she’d heard him right.
“The thing is, Nick is getting an award next month—a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Vermont Association of Law Enforcement. And it’s a big deal. They asked me to present it at their annual convention, and part of that involves putting together a speech. You know, the highlights of his career and all that.”
She