Scarlett was still seething as Connor drove her back to the station. He’d tried to get her to eat breakfast, to do anything other than grab the quickest shower on earth before heading out the door again. At least he’d had the sense not to suggest a repeat of what had happened between them the night before. Something turned over in her stomach at the thought. No, she was pissed. At her boss, at politics, possibly at the entire damn world. Connor was probably about the only person she wasn’t entertaining murderous thoughts about right now, but that didn’t mean she wanted to jump into bed with him. Did it? So why did she feel disappointed that he hadn’t tried to drag her back to bed? She couldn’t blame him. She was probably giving off vibes that she was about to explode. But still, disappearing back into their own little world where everything was okay and nothing existed except for Connor and what he could make her body feel definitely had its appeal. She just had no idea how to tell him that.

She sucked up a breath, firming her expression and forcing back the wobbly tear that was threatening. Fuck. This was why she didn’t do emotions. Orgasms were all well and good. When it came to making her body sing, the man was a damn virtuoso. It was what came after, when she was lying in the dark, wrapped tightly in Connor’s embrace, that Scarlett couldn’t handle. She’d spent the last year feeling so much that she felt like her entire heart had ripped itself apart in her chest. That had slowly faded into a sort of numb existence. She hadn’t felt the racking pain anymore, but neither had anything else existed. She hadn’t really missed it. Being numb was better than feeling like your very soul was dying.

Until Connor.

He had ignited things inside her that she’d thought were long dead. He’d made her feel, Goddamn it. And now everything in the world was searing and crisp again, and it hurt like hell. Being with him. It didn’t have to be sex. Hell, even just sitting quietly, lying against his hard chest while they watched TV had been heaven on earth. The problem was, letting herself admit she wanted that meant she’d opened herself back up to the pain and hurt that mired the world, too. Her nerves were still raw from coming under fire two days ago—not that she’d ever admit it—and Scarlett wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Letting Connor in meant letting everything in, and her boss’s call that morning had hurt more than it should.

She risked a glance over to Connor, fortunately when his eyes were on the road. If he took one more concerned glance in her direction, she was going to snap. She’d either start yelling or kiss the fuck out of him. She had no idea which, but doing either in anger was not a good idea.

Only the fact that Harrelson was her superior was stopping her from running out the door, slamming open his office door, and letting him know exactly what he could do with his ordering her off the case. After catching her reflection in the mirror and noticing she still had just-had-sex hair, Scarlett had forced herself to at least have a quick shower and down a mug of coffee before she went down to the station and probably did exactly that anyway. At least having taken the five minutes to allow the anger to rush over her as the hot water had flooded the shower stall should mean she wouldn’t get herself fired. But instead of the anger waning into the numbed void she was so used to, instead hurt had taken its place.

She looked out the window, biting her nails. Captain Harrelson was more than just her boss. He’d been a friend, to both her and her husband, but especially to Derek. Today, though, that didn’t seem to matter. Scarlett was done sympathizing. Derek was gone, and she wasn’t. She’d finally found her path, and found something more special than she could ever hope to dream of finding again with Connor. Maybe a few months ago she would have stepped aside, allowing someone to take over. Nothing had mattered then, but now . . . fuck! She ran a hand through her hair. This was her case. She’d felt it in her bones from the very beginning, and no one, not even Harrelson, was going to take it away from her.

But why the hell had he? The thought stopped her racing mind dead. The captain hadn’t said anything more over the phone, and he’d had plenty of opportunities when she’d met his announcement in stunned silence, hanging on the line saying nothing for several seconds, until her brain had finally caught up with what the hell he was saying enough to plead her case. She’d tried, but it hadn’t been enough to change his mind, except Scarlett realized now that he’d never said why.

Her hand fell away from her mouth and balled up as she remembered her last actions before leaving the precinct the night before. She’d been careful, printing screen captures only and not clicking into any detail other than the basic summary and attending officers. Maybe it hadn’t been enough. The fellow officer she’d noticed appearing over and over again as she’d tested her theory wasn’t someone she thought capable of hacking the system, of doing anything to track her movements. The guy was a pushover, a uniform that would probably stay at the same rank until he retired.

Scarlett’s frown grew as her thoughts tumbled out of control again. The pattern was there. That she was sure of, but what did it mean? She couldn’t see him being a criminal mastermind. The rock in her stomach grew. No. He wasn’t smart enough for that, but he’d make an excellent lackey.

She reached down and fished out her cell, calling dispatch. “Holly, what’s Officer Ellis’s current location?” Three minutes later, she had her answer. Exactly the hell where he was supposed to be, walking in his assigned beat area. One hand returned to her mouth as she gnawed on a fingernail, her thoughts racing, while the other still held her cell. If he wasn’t in charge, then who was? What was she missing? It had to be someone like her, probably plainclothes, to have enough sway with the captain to get her taken off the case. It wouldn’t have been hard, she supposed. Most of the cops in town were close personally, too, typical small-town America.

She could imagine it now. Hey, Cap. How’s Scarlett going? She looks a little run down. Did she take any time off after the shooting? Maybe we should give her a break. I’m happy to work a double for a while. Already mad at her for keeping him out of the loop, it wouldn’t have taken much for Harrelson to agree.

He probably thought he was doing her a damn favor. When was he going to realize he wasn’t any more responsible for what happened to Derek than she was? For nearly two long years, she’d let him protect her because it was easier than feeling anything real, but now it was suffocating. Scarlett wanted her life back, all of it.

She was so lost in thought that she’d almost forgotten she was sitting in Connor’s truck, and Scarlett jumped when her cell rang in her hand. She looked down at the screen. Unknown caller. A jolt of nerves went through, but she pushed it back seconds later. She wanted this. She was still working the case, damn it, no matter if it was official or not. She clicked to answer and brought the phone to her ear, not speaking a greeting. Dead air filled her ears, and for a moment Scarlett wondered if she’d made a mistake. Just as she opened her mouth to ask who was there, a low electronic voice filled her senses. It was entirely inhuman and sent shivers down her spine. “Curiosity killed the cat, Scarlett Christensen. Maybe it’ll kill you, too.”