CHAPTER SIX

– MARVIN –

"How did you get this list so damn fast?" Kathleen asks and practically rips the stack of papers from my hands.

I glance over her shoulder to study the information along with her when I simply say, "I still have valuable contacts."

"How are we going to narrow down this list to a mere few? Check alibies? We don't know exact timeframes of some of the victims…maybe places? Though, this list is all the people who are, or have been, employed as a crime scene cleaner, right?"

"Right." I release a sigh. "It's a lead we need to check out. We might get lucky or it will result in nothing."

"It beats twiddling our thumbs," Kathleen murmurs. "Did your contact crosscheck the names of the foster kids from Arthur and Beth Bronson?"

I wince and rub the back of my neck. "I forgot to ask, we should skim over the list and make sure first."

"They're in alphabetic order and I already checked, that's why I asked." Kathleen sighs. "This sucks. How would we even know if any of them makes a viable suspect?"

Pulling the laptop closer, I take a seat next to her and glance at the first name on the list. "We crosscheck and work our way through the list."

Kathleen gets behind her desk and hands over some of the names to divide the task when she fires up her own computer. Hours pass and it's way past dinnertime when I notice Kathleen yawn for the third time.

The woman has a work drive that puts everything second place, including her well-being. Checking the time, I shove the laptop shut and snag the papers away from her.

"Come on, we're going upstairs. I'm going to fix us some food, we'll discuss the case some more, and then you need sleep for a couple of hours. I don't mean the kind where you fall asleep wherever you're sitting, I mean in a bed, got it?"

She doesn't take her eyes off the computer screen and waves me off. "Go upstairs and cook. I can work until you're done."

Stalking around the desk, I gently wrap my fingers around her upper arm and nudge her to move. "Let's go. I'll let you borrow my laptop so you can work upstairs. I'm not going to leave you in your office because you would just keep on working even if dinner is ready."

She glares at me while muttering a few curses under her breath. At least she turns off her computer and follows me out of the office. Once upstairs I place the laptop on the kitchen table along with the papers and Kathleen dives right back in.

Kathleen sinks her teeth in anything that crosses her path, and I'm basically the same workaholic. Except, I also like to take some distance every now and then. My brain needs a breather to look at things with fresh eyes. It's why I offered to make dinner. The bonus is feeding the woman I'm completely enthralled with 'cause she for damn sure doesn't take care of herself with the basic necessities of food and sleep.

I layer some fresh mozzarella slices over the chicken breasts, add some parmesan, and put the dish into the oven. Kathleen is balancing her head in her hands and by the way her eyes keep falling shut? I'd say she's completely fried. Closing the laptop, I reach out to take the papers and place them on top and carry it all into the living room.

When I stroll back into the kitchen Kathleen is stretching her arms above her head and yawns once again. "Dean found anything yet?"

I take my phone out of my pocket and place it on the kitchen table. "Nope, nothing."

"Crazy how this case doesn't even have the time to run cold with the dead bodies piling up, all while we have no freaking clue who the killer is." Kathleen lets out a little growl. "I hate how the killer is three or four steps ahead of us every damn time."

"That's why we're taking the rest of the night off and will get a good night's sleep to dive back in with fresh eyes tomorrow morning."

"I hate wasting time," she grumbles.

Chuckling, I place my hands on her shoulders and gently rub at the tight knots in her muscles. "Recharging your body and mind isn't wasting time, boss lady. It's a valuable way to hit reset and go back at it with your full attention."

"Less talk, more rubbing," she groans. "Damn, that feels good."

My cock hardens at the sound of those sexy as fuck moans falling from her lips. I want nothing more than to strip her naked and fuck her long and hard, but the woman is exhausted and never puts herself first. So, I'll make damn sure I take care of her needs before my own.

I keep massaging her until the dish I made in the oven is ready. A groan of protest rips from her when my hands fall away.

"I'm all yours whenever you need a massage," I promise her as I step away to get the oven mitts.

"Smells delicious," she murmurs and jumps up to grab us some plates.

I made enough for both of us and we fall silent while we polish off all the parmesan chicken. Kathleen groans and leans back to rub her belly. Getting to my feet, I grab her empty plate and mine so I can rinse them.

"You cooked, I'm gonna do the dishes," she states and bumps my hip as she takes the plates from me.

Liking her playful change in attitude I remark, "Remind me to massage and feed you on a regular basis."

Snorting, she mutters something under her breath and it takes my brain a few seconds to catch up.

Laughter rips from me and I quip, "Including orgasms, got it."

Her cheeks flush and before she can swing a remark at my head, I slink away to check the messages on my phone.

"Dean has finally been able to ID the body that was found buried at the edge of Eastlynne's property," I muse.

Kathleen grabs the dishtowel and starts to dry off our plates. "He did?"

"The woman went missing years before all the other bodies were dumped and found," I muse as I thumb through Dean's info. "It might not be connected with the serial killer."

I feel her coming up behind me to get a glimpse of the info as I scroll through it.

"Iris Riggs," Kathleen muses. "Riggs, why does that name sound familiar?"

I scroll back and show her the info as well as voice it, "Iris was the daughter of Lucian Riggs, Arthur Bronson's ranch hand. He reported his daughter missing six years ago. The forensic anthropologist who examined the bones concluded that she was killed and buried six years ago. So, it's safe to say Iris was buried there the whole time."

"Cause of death was stabbing," Kathleen states. "Stab wounds were deep enough to slice through the ribs. They listed what size and type of knife was used by the killer by measuring the V-nicks on the second and third ribs, along with the distance between the ribs that gives the width of the blade. Combined with the striation on the thoracic vertebrae gives the length of the blade. Stabbings are personal. Wait…it's the same size and type used in the recent killings, right?"

Kathleen takes her phone and checks her notes. "Yes, look."

She turns the screen to me and I glance over the coroner report that mentioned the size and type of the knife that caused the wounds of the most recent victim.

"Fuck. Maybe it is connected and she was the first victim," I grunt.

"It would explain why the killer made a point of dumping a body in front of the ranch. Maybe the killer wanted this body to be found as well. We need to find out exactly what happened to this woman. Come on, let's go." Kathleen grabs her keys from the table and shoves her phone back into her pocket.

"Now hang on, where are we going?" I ask and quickly fall in step behind her.

Wrench trots out the door along with us when Kathleen states, "To the Iron Hot Blood ranch. We still need to talk to the first generation and with this information landing in our lap? We shouldn't wait any longer."

I'd like nothing more than to make sure Kathleen gets a good night's sleep, but she's right. With the information we just obtained it might give us more insight in Iris's life, and maybe her death along with it.

"I sent my father a text. Most members will be waiting for us in church," Kathleen says once we're on our way.

"I could have done that," I mutter.

She turns her head to glance at me for a breath or two before focusing back on the road. "You can take lead in the discussion once we're in church. This time it's not just me who is law enforcement working with the MC. You are now a member and the undersheriff. Which means you belong in there and I don't 'cause technically I'm not a member."

I shouldn't say this when she's driving, but I can't keep my mouth shut. "You're the daughter of a member, and as of today, you're my old lady. You definitely belong in there."

Her knuckles turn white from holding the steering wheel in a death grip. "It's a good thing you just–"

"Made dinner, gave you a massage, and am excellent in giving orgasms? Yeah, your old man has more qualities, and you'll get acquainted with them very soon."

A muscle jumps in her jaw as if she's grinding her teeth. "I've recently told Cosima and Eastlynne that there's no way I'll accept a man to take charge of my life."

Her words put me on edge and now I'm the one grinding my teeth.

Kathleen brings the patrol car to a stop in front of the Iron Hot Blood ranch and turns to face me. "You take charge, but every action is done with my safety and wellbeing in mind. You're very, very annoying and make it damn hard not to fall for you."

"I've been feeling uneasy since the first time I laid eyes on you," I confess. "I had no clue why until it hit me full force while I was away from you. It was easy to entrust and swear my heart to you and the moment I did I felt calm within the havoc surrounding me. You belong to me, boss lady. Which is why I don't want to take control of your life. It's a partner I crave who will stand strong beside me. One who shares the same law enforcement passion, who doesn't back down, and can handle anything in life including my asshole self."

"You're definitely an asshole," Kathleen murmurs as she turns to face me.

The corner of my mouth twitches. "Thanks for noticing."

I gently reach out to let her get out of the car if she wants to. She stays rooted as I place my hand against the back of her neck to pull her close. My mouth covers hers in a soft and sensual kiss. I intended to keep it light and fast, but her taste is like adding fuel to a fire. My tongue dances with hers and when she groans into my mouth I'm ready to pull her close and make her straddle me.

Instead, our kiss is rudely interrupted when someone knocks on the passenger side window. We turn our heads to see Decker glaring at us. Fuck.