care of myself."
Ian could tell that the low sound of doubt he made in response grated on her nerves more than any snide comment he could have delivered.
"When will I see you again?" she burst out, when he started to turn away.
He shook his head, jamming his hands into his front pockets before he did something stupid, like try to touch her. "You won't."
"Ian--"
"I want you to stay away from me," he growled, cutting her off. "Tomorrow, when dawn hits, you get your ass in your car and go back to wherever it is you came from. You hear me?"
"There's nothing wrong with my hearing."
"No," he rasped, "just your sanity."
"I'm not crazy. I wish I was. And I'm also not running. Not until we've set things right."
"Get out of town, Miss Stratton." He punctuated the order with a hard look of warning, then slammed her car door. Ian waited until she'd started the engine and driven out onto the street, her taillights disappearing down the road, before turning around and climbing into his truck.
He sat for a moment, staring at nothing, lost in thought, wondering if he'd ever see her crazy little ass again, hoping that she was smart enough to do what he'd told her before things got any more screwed-up than they already were. She could end up hurt. Hell, if she was right, if something was gunning for him with murder on its mind, she could even end up dead.
With a low growl of frustration, he jammed the key into the ignition, hit the gas and headed into the night.
CHAPTER FIVE
Saturday Afternoon
WHAT HAD BEEN a shitty night turned into a grinding, bitch of a day, every lead they followed slamming into a frustrating wall of nothing. By the time Ian finally made it back to his apartment, it was late the following afternoon. While the forensics team had dealt with the gruesome crime scene, he'd spent the hellish hours helping Riley retrace Kendra's steps, talking to everyone they could find, while getting the third degree about her personal life. It was almost embarrassing, how little he was able to tell his brother about the woman he'd known for almost six months. And the crowd at Kendra's favorite bar knew even less. A couple of people remembered her leaving with some blond guy, but no one could provide his name. One cocktail waitress coming back on shift had called him "tasty," and the bartender was able to describe his eyes.
"Like a husky's. That cold, ice-blue. Know what I mean?"
There'd been an odd moment when Riley had finally pulled up in front of his apartment building to drop him off, his brother's expression one of intense frustration, as if he couldn't decide what to say. Or how to say it. Then he'd scraped one hand back through his shaggy hair and asked, "Did you ever head out to that storage place over in Mountain Creek?"
After Elaina's funeral, Riley had shipped their mother's personal belongings back to Colorado, storing them in a nearby facility. Instead of selling the small house where she'd lived, which had been in Elaina's family for generations, he had left it in working order, along with some furniture--since, according to Riley, Saige was thinking of spending some time there when she wasn't wandering all over the world, searching for her bits of junk. Everything else had been brought to Colorado, including some things that Elaina had apparently wanted Ian to have. Not that he'd been interested. He'd told Riley to throw whatever it was into storage, along with the rest of her stuff, which his brother had done. Then Riley had turned around and given him a set of keys to the storage unit, warning him that he might want to get his hands on whatever she'd left him someday.
Considering what they'd just been through, it had seemed an odd thing to bring up, but then Ian had given up trying to figure out how Riley's head worked a long time ago.
"I told you I wasn't interested in anything of Elaina's," he'd muttered, opening his door.
Before he could climb out of the truck, Riley had reached over and grabbed hold of
Ian could tell that the low sound of doubt he made in response grated on her nerves more than any snide comment he could have delivered.
"When will I see you again?" she burst out, when he started to turn away.
He shook his head, jamming his hands into his front pockets before he did something stupid, like try to touch her. "You won't."
"Ian--"
"I want you to stay away from me," he growled, cutting her off. "Tomorrow, when dawn hits, you get your ass in your car and go back to wherever it is you came from. You hear me?"
"There's nothing wrong with my hearing."
"No," he rasped, "just your sanity."
"I'm not crazy. I wish I was. And I'm also not running. Not until we've set things right."
"Get out of town, Miss Stratton." He punctuated the order with a hard look of warning, then slammed her car door. Ian waited until she'd started the engine and driven out onto the street, her taillights disappearing down the road, before turning around and climbing into his truck.
He sat for a moment, staring at nothing, lost in thought, wondering if he'd ever see her crazy little ass again, hoping that she was smart enough to do what he'd told her before things got any more screwed-up than they already were. She could end up hurt. Hell, if she was right, if something was gunning for him with murder on its mind, she could even end up dead.
With a low growl of frustration, he jammed the key into the ignition, hit the gas and headed into the night.
CHAPTER FIVE
Saturday Afternoon
WHAT HAD BEEN a shitty night turned into a grinding, bitch of a day, every lead they followed slamming into a frustrating wall of nothing. By the time Ian finally made it back to his apartment, it was late the following afternoon. While the forensics team had dealt with the gruesome crime scene, he'd spent the hellish hours helping Riley retrace Kendra's steps, talking to everyone they could find, while getting the third degree about her personal life. It was almost embarrassing, how little he was able to tell his brother about the woman he'd known for almost six months. And the crowd at Kendra's favorite bar knew even less. A couple of people remembered her leaving with some blond guy, but no one could provide his name. One cocktail waitress coming back on shift had called him "tasty," and the bartender was able to describe his eyes.
"Like a husky's. That cold, ice-blue. Know what I mean?"
There'd been an odd moment when Riley had finally pulled up in front of his apartment building to drop him off, his brother's expression one of intense frustration, as if he couldn't decide what to say. Or how to say it. Then he'd scraped one hand back through his shaggy hair and asked, "Did you ever head out to that storage place over in Mountain Creek?"
After Elaina's funeral, Riley had shipped their mother's personal belongings back to Colorado, storing them in a nearby facility. Instead of selling the small house where she'd lived, which had been in Elaina's family for generations, he had left it in working order, along with some furniture--since, according to Riley, Saige was thinking of spending some time there when she wasn't wandering all over the world, searching for her bits of junk. Everything else had been brought to Colorado, including some things that Elaina had apparently wanted Ian to have. Not that he'd been interested. He'd told Riley to throw whatever it was into storage, along with the rest of her stuff, which his brother had done. Then Riley had turned around and given him a set of keys to the storage unit, warning him that he might want to get his hands on whatever she'd left him someday.
Considering what they'd just been through, it had seemed an odd thing to bring up, but then Ian had given up trying to figure out how Riley's head worked a long time ago.
"I told you I wasn't interested in anything of Elaina's," he'd muttered, opening his door.
Before he could climb out of the truck, Riley had reached over and grabbed hold of
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