Chapter Eight
Wakefulness dawned slowly, sleep fighting to pull her back under. She was enveloped in that warm state of semi-consciousness, the arms around her offering protection and safety, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in weeks, apart from a couple hours the day before. She sighed, luxuriating in contentment, remembering somewhere through the fog in her mind those whispered words in her ear.
I need you tonight, sweetheart.
Then the warmth of his chest as she was drawn into his body, the heavy weight of his arm wrapping around her waist, bare legs entwining with hers. Kat opened her eyes to darkness, the sun not yet up.
Not a dream. Her heart thudded against her chest. She drew in a deep breath, Ethan’s scent wrapping around her. She snuggled deeper into his arms, realizing how desperately she’d missed him these past weeks. Needing him, she thought a little guiltily, after Stephen’s harsh words from the night before.
You’re nothing to me anymore.
The words cut, breaking her heart when she hadn’t thought it could be broken any more. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for when she’d been waiting in his truck. She’d just wanted to clear the air between them, apologize for those words he’d taken the wrong way. And make sure he wasn’t going to be arrested for attempted murder.
She let her eyes drift closed again, needing to hang on to the night before reality intruded, shattering the only moment of peace she’d likely have over the coming days. For now, she took comfort in Ethan’s arms, knowing life was going to throw them into a tailspin once again.
And this time, she wondered if they’d survive it.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she next awoke. The gray light of dawn was just beginning to chase the shadows from the room. She was still pressed solidly against Ethan. He moved slightly, mumbling in his sleep, the feel of his erection pressing against her bottom surprising her. She swallowed a gasp, remaining perfectly still until he settled again, until his breathing evened out. Just the morning thing, she told herself. It didn’t mean anything. But for the first time in so long, she let her mind go there, felt the rush of arousal. When Ethan’s hand moved up, cupping her breast underneath the T-shirt she wore, she shoved those feelings away. Ruthlessly.
Carefully, she extracted herself from his arms, only breathing a sigh of relief when she made it out of her bedroom without waking him, despite Jake’s loud wail of disapproval when she accidentally kicked him off the bed.
She was too vulnerable right now after seeing Stephen again. And Ethan was vulnerable too, she reminded herself as she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen. She waited for the coffee to finish, gratefully taking that first sip as she reached for Jake’s food. Outside, fog encased the entire backyard, settling so thick she could barely see the pool. Hopefully, it would burn off as the sun continued to rise. The day would be gloomy enough as it was.
She pushed everything away, knowing her thoughts would take her down a depressing, dread-filled path she wasn’t ready to deal with yet. It seemed impossible to believe that little more than forty-eight hours ago she was celebrating Jen’s birthday, trying to convince herself she was happy.
Despite her long-term avoidance of the news, she switched on the television as she glanced at the time, a little after 5:00 am. A mattress commercial was on, promising the best night’s sleep ever, reminding her, despite her heartache, how peacefully she’d slept wrapped in Ethan’s arms, surprisingly free of nightmares. In all the years they’d known each other, it was only the second time she’d woken in his arms, the other time six weeks ago after Stephen’s grandfather—
The judge, she corrected herself. After the night the judge had tried to kill her. But that had been so different than this morning. So much more intimate waking up with him in her bed rather than on his couch.
The news came back on, and she buried the thoughts. The solemn expression of the dark-haired newscaster told Kat everything she needed to know before the young woman even spoke a word. “We are very sad to report this morning that our own Emma Anderson succumbed to her injuries this morning after being medivacked to Albany Medical Center last night. Genevieve Harrington is in Windham with the story.”
Kat stared in surprise as the screen split in two. Genevieve Harrington, the senator’s daughter, was a reporter? Apparently. Behind her, the ski chalet was lit up like a Christmas tree, filmed from the slope side rather than roadside. Fancier, Kat thought vaguely. Made for better television.
Kat hung on Genevieve’s every word as she recounted last night’s events, holding her breath, waiting for the reporter to announce to the world that Stephen Chandler had been arrested for the murder of Emma Anderson. Much to Kat’s relief, she didn’t.
The screen went back to the news desk. “Thank you, Genevieve. Emma Anderson was a beloved member of our family and she will be deeply missed. Our prayers go out to her family. This next story you’re about to see is a story that would have aired tonight, a story Ms. Anderson’s been working on for the past few weeks.”
Kat’s heart stuttered, nerves causing her hands to tremble.
Emma Anderson’s face appeared on screen, a cemetery behind her.
“Behind me is the final resting place of Judge William Chandler, Sr. Today marks the one-month anniversary of his death. He suffered for two weeks, with first degree burns on over seventy-five percent of his body. He was a man who lived his life for the service of others. A man who was well-respected and loved within his community.
“A man who was also being investigated for murder.
“It all began six and half years ago, on a night that began as a celebration. A celebration that ended in the horrific murder of Sara and Michael Delaney.” Kat whimpered, nearly spilling her coffee as her parents’ faces filled the screen, a photo she hadn’t seen in years. Kat frantically searched for the remote, her whimpers drowning out the rest of Emma’s words she couldn’t bear to hear anymore, until her own name, her current name, had her freezing in place.
“Determined to find justice and clear her father’s name, their daughter, Katherine Collins, now an investigator with the New York State Police, uncovered a longtime affair between her mother, Sara Delaney and District Attorney William Chandler, this past spring. An affair that was not revealed during the initial investigation.
“Before Investigator Collins could bring this evidence to light, she was allegedly kidnapped from a hostage situation by former Judge Chandler.” Behind Emma, the scene changed. “Taken to this hotel at the base of Hunter Mountain, the same room where her parents were murdered six years earlier, Investigator Collins was rescued with moments to spare, suffering only minor injuries.
“Former Judge William Chandler Sr. was transported to Albany Medical Center where he later succumbed to his injuries.
“It is unknown at this time whether District Attorney William Chandler, Jr. knew of his father’s involvement in the murder of his lover and her husband. News Channel 6 has recently learned that he has stepped down from office. It is also unknown whether his son, Assistant District Attorney Stephen Chandler, was aware of his family’s transgressions, however, we have learned that ADA Chandler has retained his own attorney.”
After another minute, Emma signed off, promising to keep the public up to date as the story unfolded. Kat gripped her mug with both hands, unable to tear her eyes from the screen even as they moved on to a commercial. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there before Ethan came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, placing a soft kiss to her temple.
She had to remind herself that Emma had been part of Ethan’s life. Despite all the damage she’d just caused Stephen, Ethan was in mourning, proven by the pain in his expression when she turned in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Ethan,” Kat whispered. He slipped his hand under the heavy mass of her hair, gently holding her closer as he kissed the top of her head. His arms were tight enough to make breathing difficult, but she didn’t try to wiggle free. He’d never clung to her the way he was now. Usually it was her clinging to him and she hoped he was taking the comfort she offered.
“She never made it through surgery,” Ethan said softly. “It was…horrible doesn’t begin to describe it. As soon as the surgeon came out, we all knew. Emma’s parents…her mother passed out. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sound of her screams as long as I live. My mother and sisters…”
Ethan’s voice broke. He tightened his hold before sliding one hand down her back, his other hand sliding around to cup of her cheek, raising her face to his. Glancing up at him, it took everything she had not to suck in a deep breath. His light blue eyes seemed to glow in the fog covered morning, filled with grief.
“I’ve missed you.” He brushed a hair from her face, gripping it gently as he placed a soft, gentle kiss against her lips. Kat pushed against his chest, needing to escape, but wasn’t fast enough. Couldn’t back away before his mouth was on hers again. Her body began to tremble, confusion spiraling through her when Ethan ran his tongue against the seam of her lips. Without hesitation, she opened to him, losing herself in the feel his tongue sliding against hers, his familiar scent filling her.
Ethan released her far too soon. She opened her eyes slowly, the unmistakable desire in his taking her breath away.
Suddenly she knew exactly why he’d kissed her, exactly why he’d climbed into bed with her last night when he’d never once done it before. Apart from her nightmares, she reminded herself. Anger and humiliation raced through her, both so complete the combined emotions overwhelmed her. There was only one other time Ethan had looked at her that way.
Stephen.
Grieving or not, she wasn’t going down this road with him. Not again. Because just like the time in the hospital, this wasn’t about him wanting her.
“Maybe it would be best if you go back to the city.”
“What?” she gasped. That’s what he had to say after kissing her?
“This week…” he paused, giving her a sad smile. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But I need to be with my family right now and I know that’s the last place you want to be. I don’t want you being here alone.”
She couldn’t leave. Not now. Not when Ethan needed her, when Stephen…
Stephen doesn’t want you.
But it didn’t matter. Not when she was terrified where this investigation would lead. Kat shook her head. “No. I can’t—”
“Kat,” Ethan interrupted, the hint of a warning in his tone, something she rarely heard from him. “I want you safe.”
She pushed against his chest again and this time he let her go. Kat darted away from him as fast as she dared, grabbing a new cup for her coffee because the other one was too close to Ethan. She was trembling as she filled her cup, hurt that he’d cling to her one moment and try and get rid of her the next. Logically, she understood. Knew he’d do anything to protect her, but she wasn’t feeling very logical this morning.
“I am safe,” she argued, desperately trying to hide her annoyance. But Ethan knew her too well, hiding anything from him was nearly impossible. She poured him some coffee, shoving it across the island separating them so he wouldn’t be tempted to come over to her side.
“Did it slip your mind that a woman was just murdered?”
His tone had an edge that made her look up from fixing her coffee. He was staring at her, determination written all over his face.
Not good.
Striving for patience, she said, “Which is exactly why I need to be here.”
Ethan’s entire body stiffened and suddenly he looked so much bigger than he had two seconds ago, filling the space in her kitchen, intimidating, anger lashing in his eyes. It was a look she rarely saw from him and she knew they were heading into dangerous territory if she didn’t diffuse the situation. “You will not, and I repeat, you will not get involved in this,” he growled, his hands clutching the edge of the counter until his knuckles turned white and she wondered if was to keep himself from reaching for her.
“And let Stephen go down for a murder he didn’t commit?”
“Damn it, Kat!” Ethan roared. He was around the island and she was backed into the fridge so fast it made her head spin. Jesus, his mood had turned on a dime. Grief, she knew. And fear. “You’re defending him? Still? Are you out of your mind?”
“Come on, Ethan,” she said patiently. “You know Stephen. Know he wouldn’t do this.”
“All I know is six week ago, I nearly lost you at the hands of his family!” he raged. “No way in hell I will allow you—”
“Allow me?” Kat interrupted, even as her heart banged against her chest. Only one other time had she seen this side of Ethan. Apparently, the kid-gloves he usually treated her with were off. “Jesus, Ethan, do you hear yourself?”
Kat’s security alarm beeped, cutting off anything else Ethan would have said. She grabbed her phone as soon as he released her, letting out a groan of annoyance when she recognized the unmarked Crown Victoria coming up her driveway. Ethan’s focus was still on her, still angry, watching her with that intent expression when she looked up at him again. “It’s Lieutenant Allen.”
Last night, she’d hoped Allen wouldn’t be part of the investigation, that Mary Robinson would be in charge. But in the back of her mind, she knew the entire department would be involved. Just her luck that Allen would be the one darkening her door.
“This conversation isn’t over,” Ethan gritted out over his shoulder as he went to her front door, pausing to look at her again before he opened it.
“Yes, Ethan. It is.” He stood stiffly for a moment, the doorbell ringing again. “Let him in. I’m not going to hide until he’s gone.”
“I was kind of wishing you would,” Ethan sighed. “John,” he greeted after he opened the door, taking a few steps back to let him in.
To Kat, Ethan sounded casual, no hint of their argument in his tone. His use of Allen’s first name reminded her they had a personal relationship as well as a professional one. But that didn’t ease the dread she felt in the pit of her stomach. Allen was huge, six-five, and he’d used that size to intimidate Kat during his investigation into Ethan’s shooting this past spring. His bald head gleamed under her outside light, leaving spots in front of her eyes. Or perhaps that was from the panic setting in.
If Allen was surprised to find Ethan opening her door, he didn’t show it. His gaze went directly toward Kat, taking in her state of undress, shorts and a t-shirt, bare feet that said they’d just gotten out of bed. Kat felt the tension that suffused not just the room, but the entire house, nearly suffocating in its intensity.
Allen uttered some bullshit greeting, which Kat returned, her body stiff. Ethan grabbed her hand, leading them back toward the kitchen. Despite her irritation with him, she gripped his hand tightly, needing his strength.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Ethan,” Allen said as he followed them. “And I apologize for the early morning visit, but, well, you know the drill.”
“Thank you,” Ethan replied. “Anything we can do to help.”
Help convict Stephen, he meant, then she immediately felt guilty at the thought.
“Why don’t you walk me through last night, everything you saw just before the incident,” Allen said to her. Ethan dropped her hand, holding up an empty mug to Allen, which Allen accepted with a nod.
As with Mary Robinson, Kat repeated her story. Again. Despite her nerves, she didn’t stutter, didn’t hesitate or trip over her words, even though it nearly killed her to repeat them, knowing what they’d do to Stephen.
Allen wrote everything down in his notebook even though everything she said was already documented. “You knew the story was about to air before this morning?”
Phrased as a question, but Kat wasn’t buying it. “Yes.”
“When did you find out?”
“Yesterday.”
“Before the party?”
“Yes.”
“Who told you?”
“Stephen.”
Was it her imagination, or did Allen just smirk? “You must have been pretty pissed off your identity was about to be revealed.”
“It hardly changes anything.”
“That depends on how pissed off you were yesterday, only hours after learning it would be leaked. Depends on how convinced you were that you could keep the story from being aired. Maybe you thought killing her would kill the story?”