Chapter 8

Eight

Izzy

The effects of not sleeping more than a few hours at a time were hitting me hard. Body twinges, foggy mind, and the inability to get warm were just some of the symptoms. It had been three days, and even though we took shifts, I hardly slept a wink. Every little noise had my eyes snapping open. At one point last night, Branson got up and looked outside while I stared at the side of his face until he said it was nothing and came back to bed. When I sat up and let Branson sleep, he was out like a light and didn't stir at all. Totally not fair . How could he sleep so soundly when the Horseman had been in his house and could walk in again without warning?

It was odd to be living with someone again, and yet Branson and I had a flow to our day and even getting ready for work. We never tripped over one another and seamlessly paired off responsibilities like helping to cook dinner together while chatting about the case. Maybe it was because I'd known him for years or maybe it was the case tossing us together the way that it did, but whatever it was, we worked like we'd always been together.

"Is your latte okay?"

I glanced at Branson and then down at the takeout cup I had in my hand. The rich scent of pumpkin spice floated around the car, but even the delicious drink and aroma couldn't pull me out of the daze for very long.

"Yeah, it's perfect. I'm just driving the struggle bus today, but at least it's not dragging me. The lack of sleep is getting to me. I hadn't been sleeping great before Christian's death, but now…now I'm not sure I'll ever sleep properly again until we catch this guy."

Branson grabbed my hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss before linking our fingers together.

"I heard from the Tarry Town sheriff. He said that he got confirmation that I was working all week, so I'm no longer a main suspect, but he hinted I shouldn't travel too far in case he had more questions."

"Seriously? He likes wasting his time, doesn't he?"

"I think he just wants to be useful, and let's face it, there is a lot with this case that makes everyone feel useless. It doesn't bother me. Now, if he orders me in for more questioning without a good reason…which there isn't one, then I'll be annoyed."

"You're far nicer than I am. If you'd let me, I would've kicked his ass at Betsy's house."

Branson squeezed my hand. "I know you would've, and that's just one of the things I lo— adore about you," he said, and butterflies took off in my stomach. I pretended not to notice that he almost said love and instead sipped on my latte. I was certainly awake now.

Branson's phone rang, and Mayor Parrish was displayed. I cringed as he groaned.

"Shit…." He hit talk, and the mayor's voice filtered through the car speakers.

"Detective Crane, what is the latest update," he asked before Branson could even say hello.

"I'm no further ahead on the case than I was yesterday when we spoke." Even though Branson kept his voice even, the twitching muscle in his jaw and the white knuckles on the steering wheel told me how frustrated he was with the daily berating he received.

"That is unacceptable. From what I've heard, this man was in your home, and you have no leads? Not a single bit of evidence?"

I sipped my latte so I didn't yell. The last thing we needed was to be removed from working together because we were now sleeping with one another. We didn't have the same boss, but this was a small town, and it was still far too easy to be labeled.

"I wish I had better news, but there is no trace of breaking and entering, and the suspect didn't leave any DNA behind that we've found. We are still running tests, but the lab is backed up."

"This is a tourist town, and we rely on the hayrides, corn mazes, our baked goods and our great pumpkin carving contest to pull people in. Instead, no one is coming to town, and those who live here are terrified that they're going to be next."

"I understand, Mayor," Branson said.

"No, I don't think you do. We need the income that comes in this time of year to keep this community afloat. So, if you don't have any more leads by the end of the week, I'm calling in the FBI."

My mouth fell open, and it was a good thing I was holding tightly to the latte, or it would've slipped from my hands.

"Are you serious," Branson asked, the annoyance now evident in his tone. "You're going to call the Feds in to stomp around our community and poke their nose into everyone's business? No one is going to like that, and as soon as this guy gets wind that agents are sniffing around he is going to take off. We may never catch him then."

"I'm fine with that. Let this psycho become someone else's problem."

"With all due respect…."

"No, I've made up my mind. You have until the end of the week. That gives you four days to make your arrest." The mayor hung up before Branson could get another word out, and he swore, smacking his hand off the top of the wheel.

"They will turn this town upside down."

"We still have four days. We can figure it out before then. I have an idea," I offered, and Branson looked at me. "We think that he is after me, right?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't like where this is headed." He narrowed his eyes into thin slits and would've had anyone else backing away. I tried to hide how much the look was turning me on.

"We should use me as bait," I said.

"No."

"Branson, think about it. We can lure him away to a spot that we control. We set the trap, and I know the perfect place," I said.

"No, I'm not letting you do this. We will find another way." He'd always been a stubborn one, but I didn't realize just how much. "If the Feds come, they come. I'll deal with it."

"No. You're right about pushing the killer into hiding. He could resurface in three or five years, and then what? We start all over again. Mayor Parrish is only thinking about the short term and this gets him off the streets for good." Reaching out, I laid my hand on his arm. "I know you'll keep me safe."

"And what if I can't? What if something happens that I can't control? What if…." He shook his head. "It's too much of a risk, Izzy."

"Branson, you can't stop me. I'm going to do this, but I would prefer if you were there to help me and keep me safe. One way or another, I'm getting this guy off the streets before the week is out," I said as Branson parked outside my work. His finger drummed the steering wheel, and I could see his mind whirring as he undoubtedly tried to think of a way to convince me not to do this.

"You sure about this?" Branson's eyes locked with mine, and my heart sputtered in my chest with the raw emotion staring back at me. I unclipped my seatbelt and didn't care if we got caught as I slid closer to him. Laying my palm on his cheek, I kissed him softly and loved how he immediately deepened the kiss.

"I want to be able to go to bed with you and never have to worry about this guy sneaking in again." I'd dreamed of a tender moment like this for years, and I wasn't going to give it up, not to another girl and certainly not to a crazy man wandering around in a Jack-o-lantern mask.

Branson smoothed back my hair and softly placed his lips on mine.

"Fine, I'll help you do this. But Izzy, I'll never forgive myself if I fail you. If he hurts you…I might as well tell him to rip my heart from my chest. It will kill me if you get hurt, and I can't stop him."

"You're not going to lose me, I promise." I glanced at the door. "Will you walk me in?"

"Of course." He smiled like I was his whole world. The Headless Horseman was about to find out just out protective I could be.