Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Cam's temper hadn't cooled by the time he stormed back into the office. Yvonne tossed him a questioning look but wisely stayed quiet.

He dropped into his chair and logged into the system, then printed off a picture of the shoe they'd found at the scene. Grabbing it off the printer, he pinned it to the board next to Lindsey's photograph.

The soft squeak of rubber on tile alerted him to Sawyer's presence. "The lab will prioritize the shoe, see if we get a match."

After the trail of footprints had gone cold, they'd returned to speak with Earl Weaver and his wife, Jeannette. According to the older man, he couldn't recall seeing or hearing anyone on his property after the search party had come through.

Jeannette liked to putter around the large garden behind their house, but she hadn't seen or heard anything out of the ordinary, either. Earl promised to keep an eye out and let them know if he noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Sawyer nodded slowly. "What are you thinking?"

"About the footprints…" Cam turned to face the detective and propped a hip on his desk. "Or the shoe?"

Sawyer lifted one shoulder. "Both."

"Honestly?" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "My gut says he's toying with us, trying to throw us off the trail."

"It's not a coincidence those footprints just disappeared, or that the shoe showed up as soon as the search party was gone."

Something tickled at the back of Cam's mind, and he strode back toward the whiteboard. The footprints seemed to lead away from the creek and move toward the subdivision where Lindsey's house was located. Helen Patterson, the elderly woman who lived a few houses down from Lindsey, had recalled seeing a strange dark-colored sedan just a few days prior to Lindsey's disappearance.

What if the person had returned to the subdivision and cut through the back of Earl's property to leave the shoe for him to find? It was risky, but the man—if it was, in fact, the same person who'd killed Jayla Simms—was clearly adept at blending in and moving throughout town undetected.

The sound of footsteps approached the office, and Cam tossed a look over his shoulder at Cooper Klein. "Hey."

"Gentlemen," Cooper said, nodding to each of them.

"Hey, Coop," Sawyer replied, barely looking away from the report in his hands. "Anything new on your end?"

Cooper turned to Cam, a wry grin twisting his lips. "You could say that. Your bestie has a knack for getting into trouble, doesn't she?"

Cam tensed. Cooper had teased him about Kinley for years, always asking when he was going to ask her out. Cam had always brushed it off, but after her recent injury, the jokes stung more than usual. "Why?"

Coop straightened, his smile slipping away. "You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?" Every cell of his body went hyperalert as he turned his full attention on the deputy. "What happened?"

Sensing the shift in Cam's mood, Cooper turned serious. "She was almost hit by a car downtown. Crossing the street near the florist."

Cam's heart stuttered to a stop. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine," Cooper said quickly. "Shaken up, but no injuries. Lucky for her, the driver swerved just in time."

Jesus Christ. What else could go wrong? "Thanks for letting me know, Coop."

He needed to check on her, but… His gaze was drawn back to the board on the wall. Damn it. He had too damn much on his plate.

Cooper glanced at the photos on the wall. "You two still working on the Gill abduction?"

"Yeah," Sawyer said, folding his arms. "We've got a few leads we're following up on."

Cooper clapped Cam on the shoulder. "I'll leave you to it then. But Cam, seriously, you should check on her. She's been through a lot lately."

Cam nodded, already reaching for his jacket. "You're right. Reed, keep me posted if anything comes up."

Sawyer gave a quick nod. "Go. I'll keep digging here."

With a final nod to Cooper, Cam hurried out of the office, his mind racing. He couldn't shake the image of Kinley, vulnerable and scared, narrowly escaping another brush with danger. She had been injured just a week ago, and now this. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to her.

The drive to Kinley's house was a blur. Cam barely registered the familiar streets and landmarks as he navigated through town. His thoughts were consumed by the need to see her, to make sure she was truly okay.

Leaping up the rickety porch steps, Cam gave a quick triple knock. He felt anxious and jittery, and he could feel his restlessness increase as ten seconds passed, then thirty. He scowled at the slab of wood. If she thought she could avoid him, she had another thing coming. Cam pounded the side of his fist on the door, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Hold on!" came an exasperated voice from the inner recesses of the house. A moment later the door was yanked open and he came face-to-face with a very irritated Kinley.

She rolled her eyes when she saw him waiting on the other side. "I was wondering how long it would take you to find out."

"Yeah, well, news travels fast in a small town." His gaze flew over her face as he stepped into the house, forcing her backward. "What the hell happened?"

Kinley repressed a sigh as she turned and strode back toward the couch, then flopped into the corner. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Cam shut the door then stormed forward, a scowl pulling at his lips. "You sure? Because it looks pretty damn bad."

"Thanks, asshole."

"Seriously." Kneeling in front of her, he took her chin in his hand and tipped her face once way, then the other. Her forehead now sported a dark contusion, and flecks of dried blood adorned the fresh stitches. He stroked thumb lightly over her cheek. "How did this happen?"

"I fell."

"You fell." Disbelief tinged his tone as he peered at her. His gaze swept lower, and he grabbed up her palms, holding them up for inspection.

They'd been best friends for years, and he'd always kept her safe. But ever since Ainsley's ex had attacked Kinley, leaving her with a head wound that required more than a dozen stitches, he'd felt more protective of her than ever.

"I'm fine. Really." She tugged her hands free, but Cam continued to glower at her. She relented with a hefty sigh. "I stopped to pick up the vases Ainsley wanted to use for the party. When I left, some idiot came whipping around the corner. I jumped out of the way, but…" She shrugged. "I wasn't fast enough."

He gently touched her forehead. "You hit your head again, didn't you?"

"I said I was fine." She made an aggravated sound in the back of her throat. "I appreciate your concern, but the doctor already took a look at it. I have six new stitches to match the others."

She was too damn independent for her own good. Cam dropped his hand away and his lips pressed into a firm line as he regarded her. "Did you see who it was?"

"No. I couldn't see anything through the windshield. Like I said, it was just an accident."

"A hit and run isn't an accident," Cam said, his tone hard.

Kinley rolled her eyes. "It wasn't like he was intentionally trying to hit me."

So she said. His protective instincts were out of control when it came to her. He hated seeing her hurt. Not to mention, the recent murder and abduction worried him incessantly. He shifted onto the couch next to her and changed his tack. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged, trying to brush off his concern. "Aside from the new bumps and bruises added to my collection? Fine."

Cam bit back a growl. Goddamn her for being so flippant about the whole thing. It was no laughing matter. She'd been attacked a week ago; now some idiot had nearly run her down with their car.

"Kins, I'm serious."

"So am I." She turned that defiant blue gaze on him. "I said I'm fine."

He wanted to shake some sense into her. Wanted to pull her against him and kiss the life out of her. She was so damn infuriating, but he loved her for it.

He studied her face, noting not for the first time the dark circles under her eyes, the strain at the corners. She looked exhausted… and in pain. "Your head's still bothering you, isn't it?"

"Nothing a painkiller won't fix."

"Stay here." Cam pushed off the couch and grabbed the medicine and a bottle of water from the kitchen, then was back less than a minute later. He passed her two tablets and she swallowed them down, briefly closing her eyes as another frisson of pain flashed across her face.

"You need to rest. Come here." He pulled a pillow into his lap, then waved her over. Her entire body tensed as he guided her down so she was lying across his lap. He began to massage her head and neck, his fingers moving in slow, comforting circles.

She leaned into him, her tension gradually melting away. "I'm sorry."

A smile pulled at his lips. "You don't have to apologize. I've known you too long to take offense to your grumpy ass."

She smacked his thigh, and he laughed. His fingers sifted through her hair, the long golden locks sliding along his skin like silk. He lightly rubbed her temples, easing the pain away.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she murmured, though her eyes were already drifting closed.

"I want to," he replied softly. "Just relax."

Within minutes, she was asleep against him, her breathing deep and even. He watched her sleep, her features soft and peaceful, and the sight punched him in the chest. Blonde hair, blue eyes… She looked remarkably like Jayla and Lindsey. His throat grew tight. What if the hit and run downtown wasn't an accident at all?

The eerie similarity between the victims and Kinley—the same golden hair, the blue eyes—sent chills down his spine. It could have easily been Kinley who'd ended up dead or missing. Ice water sluiced down his spine. Finding Lindsey's abductor was more imperative than ever. The sooner he could put this monster behind bars, the sooner he could stop looking over his shoulder, fearing for Kinley's safety.

The thought had the power to rock him to his core. He would never let anything like that happen to her. He would tell her how he felt, and soon. But tonight, being here with her was enough.