Trevor gave her shoulder a squeeze and then removed his hand. “We’ll catch his copycat killer. Having her running free isn’t helping any of us put the past behind us.”
Jocelyn’s eyes softened as she saw the exchange and listened. Trevor knew she had great sympathy for Josie and him. As a detective, she had no illusion over the kind of man who’d killed Saralee, but she backed off in questioning when necessary. He appreciated her for that. She was a good detective, insightful and smart. And beautiful. He couldn’t stop from acknowledging that. The longer he worked with her, the more difficulty he had keeping on track with this investigation. No wonder he’d lost his willpower and had to have her. He took in her breasts and the trim curve of her hips and thighs in her pants. Hair draped over her shoulder, hazel eyes sparkling with responding warmth.
He turned and saw Josie watching them. No longer upset, she appeared to have taken this distraction with hearty welcome.
“You two have been working together awhile now, haven’t you?” Josie asked.
“Awhile, yes.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but pleasure came out in his voice. He did like working with Jocelyn. He was just afraid he liked working with her for the wrong reason.
Realizing he’d turned to Jocelyn as he answered, he saw a renewed surge of sultry yearning come over her eyes. Another night with her in bed tempted and enticed, even though it went against his moral code. She did that to him. Wrecked him.
“Are you...” Josie waved her finger back and forth between them, not having to finish with, sleeping together.
Trevor stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved a step back from Josie and the desk, where Jocelyn sat, hoping his sister would drop it.
Blinking and lowering her head, Jocelyn tapped her fingers on the desk, doing a poor job of acting as though nothing revealing had just transpired.
“Are you two sleeping together?” Josie asked outright.
Sleeping together implied an ongoing activity. Trevor glanced at Jocelyn and she met the awkward, telling look.
Josie’s mouth dropped open. “You are!” She gaped from Jocelyn and back to Trevor. “How long has this been going on? You work together. I heard you don’t mix business with pleasure.”
“Let’s stick to the point here,” Trevor said. He did not want to talk about his work ethics.
“What point?” Josie asked. “I’m not going to see Matthew. I’m not ready for that.”
No one knew what that felt like more than Trevor, as many times as he’d gone to see him. He needed a shower after each visit to wash away the filth. “I told you that’s okay, Josie. When you are ready, I’ll go with you. You don’t have to go alone.”
Josie visibly softened. Matthew Colton had caused all of Trevor’s brothers and sisters too much pain. “I’m being irrational, I know. I’m sorry. Of course I should go see him for the clue. I just...”
“You’ve been through a lot,” Trevor said. “We all have.”
“I’m sorry,” Jocelyn said. “I shouldn’t have grilled you. I know what it’s like to lose family members to murder.”
Josie turned to her with new interest. “You do?”
Trevor wanted to fast forward through this conversation. Two women connecting—no, Jocelyn connecting with his little sister. That disconcerted him.
“My dad and brother were both killed in the line of duty. They were policemen.”
“Oh.” Josie reached across the desk and Jocelyn extended her hand. “I’m really sorry.”
They held hands briefly, silently communicating the grief.
Jocelyn had a history that complemented Trevor’s. While his went over the top in drama, they both had lost people they loved to murder and had been driven into law enforcement as a result.
“It’s changed us all.” Josie glanced over at Trevor as she leaned back. “Trevor is so serious and chained to his work, for example.”
“I’ve noticed.” Jocelyn leaned back, too. “And he accuses me of owning a cat.”
Josie laughed. “He’s obsessed with his work.”
“That isn’t true,” Trevor said. “Not completely. And I’m right here.”
Jocelyn continued to speak as though he wasn’t in the room. “Is that what makes him shy away from serious relationships?”
Trevor sat on the corner of the desk. “Do we have to do this now?” Although Jocelyn teased in her usual fashion, this broached an uncomfortable subject.
“I think foster care did that to him,” Josie said, sobering. “I mean, I’ve been away a long time, but Annabel told me he went through a rebellious stage. And he’s never gotten over what our dad did. Well...none of us did, really. How can we? Our father is a serial killer.”
Trevor heard and felt all the years of suffering she’d endured—all the years of suffering they’d all endured. If the state hadn’t decided it wasn’t in their best interest to stay together, he could have found his brothers and sisters sooner. Chris wouldn’t have come to him with the doubt that had plagued him all these years.
“Are you any closer to catching the copycat killer?” Josie asked Trevor. “It’s Jesse Willard’s half sister, right? That’s so unbelievable.”
Ah, much better ground. “Regina Willard is a suspect.”
He’d like nothing more than to put Matthew behind him once and for all, but this copycat killer prevented that. He could talk about the case much easier than he could about foster care, how bitterness had ruled, how he’d blamed Matthew—and still did—for taking his normal, stable life from him, life with a family. But all of that had been an illusion. Did normal and stable really exist for biological organisms? He kind of doubted it, since biological organisms all came to their inevitable, unwanted, terrible, dark deaths. Some died worse than others, like his mother. She’d been murdered by her own husband when she discovered what he was doing.
“She probably works as a waitress and that’s where she encounters her victims,” Jocelyn said in his lapse, filling Josie in on what they knew so far. “Women with long dark hair trigger something for her, women who upset her, maybe rude diners. It reminds her of something from her past, sets her off.”
“A man?” Josie asked. “Scorned woman syndrome?”
“She could be going after women who remind her of the one who stole her man,” Trevor said. “Or it could be her father, women her father chose. Maybe they treated her poorly, according to her code.” All that had gone into his profile notes.
Jocelyn sat back against his office desk chair, making him wonder what thoughts were going through her head right now. He could tell when she started to have ideas in a case. What idea had struck her now?
The three fell into silence for another moment. Rather than talk the case with Jocelyn now, he turned to Josie. She leaned forward as though weighed by her own thoughts, head bent, brow low.
“You okay, Josie?” He had to admit to some overprotectiveness toward his little sister.
She looked up and seconds passed before she responded. “Someone’s been following me. I don’t know if it’s my imagination or not. I’m so used to looking over my shoulder that it’s hard to stop. I’m not quite used to living with a sense of security.”
This, Trevor hadn’t expected. Someone was following her? Who? Why? She hadn’t come out of hiding very long ago. She needed time to adjust. Maybe she had imagined someone following her, but what if she hadn’t? It alarmed