Cold Midnight by Joyce Lamb Read Free Book Online Page B

describe the greasy feeling in his gut as the images in his head spun out. She’d been alone out there, bleeding and unconscious for who knew how long. Vulnerable and unable to defend herself from further harm.
    “Any other questions?”
    He blinked, surprised at her terse voice, her straight-on gaze. He’d helped train her, had witnessed her father’s coaching, and neither of them had had such ironclad focus or expected it.
    When one eyebrow ticked up, indicating the wane of her patience, he cleared his throat. “Do you remember how you got to the ER?”
    “The police think the one who ran away called 911. I suppose I should be grateful. I could have lost my leg.”
    Or bled to death. His rage returned, and it wasn’t the first time he understood why certain people sought vengeance.
    As the first roll of thunder rumbled in the distance, Kylie slid her sunglasses back into place with a hand that was steadier than Chase’s whole body. When she spoke again, her voice held no tremor, no doubt. “There’s no way my brother had anything to do with that.”

8
    CHASE TAPPED HIS THUMBS ON THE STEERING wheel while he waited for his partner to finish talking to Quinn McKay. The rain had started, and it flooded down the windshield in torrents. Thunder boomed so violently that the truck shook.
    He couldn’t get the damn ache out of his throat, and he knew exactly what caused it: The woman he fell in love with was gone, probably forever. He couldn’t even reconcile the woman he’d just talked to with the woman he’d made love to for the first time. That Kylie had been open and trusting, easygoing and relaxed. Being that close to her, connecting with her in a way that no one else ever had, had been incredible, mind-blowing. He remembered how good she’d felt around him, so tight and hot and wet, and how he’d climaxed too fast. He’d regretted that, being so greedy for his own release that he hadn’t made it just as memorable for her. Luckily, she’d let him make it up to her later.
    The passenger-side door jerked open, startling him as Sam all but dived into the SUV to escape the slashing rain.
    It took Chase a moment to shake the memories, to refocus on work. “How’d it go with Quinn?” he asked.
    “Didn’t get much.”
    “Not surprising. The game face must be a McKay gene. What’d he say about the shirt?”
    “Said it rained that day, and he got wet. Took it off while he was hanging out at the abandoned house—”
    “The Bat Cave,” Chase said.
    “Right, the Bat Cave. Anyway, says he forgot it when he left.”
    “So whoever buried the bat could have grabbed the shirt when he needed something to clean it up. Can anyone vouch for him leaving the shirt?”
    “Says he was there alone.”
    Of course he was. Chase started the SUV, and the windshield wipers began to flap. As he steered into slow-moving traffic, he asked, “Where did he say he was when Kylie was attacked?”
    “In their parents’ garage getting drunk.”
    Chase’s brain seemed to give a little jerk as he thought about the note he’d made when Kylie mentioned the giddiness of the lead assailant. Could he have been drunk rather than high, as she assumed? “Was he drinking with anyone?”
    “Nope. Says he was all by his lonesome.”
    “Figures.”
    Sam flipped through his own small notebook. “Quinn was in my high school class,” he said as he scanned his notes and absently rubbed at the side of his hand like he had an itch. “Weird to think we all went to the same school.”
    Chase didn’t even remember Sam from high school, probably because Chase was a senior when Sam and Quinn were freshmen. And he had other things on his mind as a senior, such as behaving himself as Kylie’s three-years-older training partner, at least until her dad wouldn’t be inclined to kill him once he found out they’d fallen for each other.
    Chase shook the memories out of his head. Useless to go there now. “You remember anything in particular about