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“I have to go. I’ll call you.”

I hug myself and nod. “Okay. Get some sleep and be careful.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I will. You, too. Don’t go anywhere alone. Or at night.”

“I won’t. I’ll drag Lynn with me everywhere. Besides, I owe her some girl time.” My attempt at a joke fails and only serves as a reminder of how much time I’ve spent on this case. “And I’ll let you know where I am.”

He nods. “Lynn will like that.” He takes another step back, finds the door, and opens it. With one last look back, Jake leaves. The soft click of the door closing gives way to silence.

Chapter38

Avalon

I waitin the apartment lobby at Jake’s insistence. This has become our routine for nearly two weeks. We jog every morning and meet for lunch or dinner every few days. But chaste kisses are as far as we have gone during this time. His refusal to deepen our relationship and to let me go back to the station is grating on me.

This early in the morning, there’s no one around. I see Jake through the glass doors and step outside to meet him. He’s wearing his usual loose shorts, but today he gifts my eyes with a sleeveless shirt. I step into him and go on tiptoes to kiss him. Make sure to put my hands on both of his arms to steady myself. His muscles flex under my touch.

He returns the brief kiss and looks over my head and around us. The parking lot will stay quiet for a few more hours. Not many people like to wake up at five in the morning during summer vacation.

“Good morning. Anything new?” I greet him with the same question I have asked every day since we found Victoria’s body in the woods.

He shakes his head, still scanning the parking lot. “Ready?”

“Yes.” We walk to the track that flanks the beach. A few solitary fishermen brave the early morning in search of a catch.

Jake and I fall into a steady jog. We don’t talk for the first couple of miles. This is when I get past that first resistance and find my rhythm. Past the voice telling me to go back to bed and sleep some more. This voice sounds exactly like Lynn. We run another mile in silence, taking the long loop that will drop us alongside the beach. I’m glad he’s jogging with me every morning. A part of me is worried this guy could come after me on one of my runs. There are plenty of spots for someone to hide along the track as it cuts through the reserve.

As the final mile approaches, I slow down, and Jake matches my steps. “You okay?”

“Yes. Can we walk the rest of the way?”

“Sure.”

We reduce our speed to a leisurely pace, and when our breathing is no longer labored, I make my plea. “I want to look at the rest of the evidence.”

He stops in his tracks. “No. It’s too risky. I don’t want you anywhere near the station house.”

“It’s no riskier than jogging with you every day. Whoever’s going to see us together already has.”

His hands go to his waist. “It’s not the same.”

“I need to see the rest of the evidence. It’s been ten days—”

“I don’t want you there.”

I turn and put my hands on my hips. “Well, tough. Because I’m going anyway. I’ll walk in, and they will wave me right through like they did before, and then I will knock on your door.”

He shakes his head. “No, you won’t.”

“I know you’re trying to protect me. You’re here but keeping me at arm’s length. You think that not allowing us to get closer will keep me safe. But it doesn’t work like that. I don’t need protection—not from you. I’m already fully invested and don’t want to wait or waste any more time. I need you, all of you. And I can’t have you until we find this guy.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Ava . . .”

“I’m not hiding, Jake. Not when I know I can help. I have to go in and find out where he dumped the other bodies. It’s already the middle of July, and I have to go home in another few weeks. We are running out of time.” In more ways than one.

He removes his sunglasses, wipes his face with the hem of his shirt, and gives me a fantastic view of his abs and obliques. Too soon, he drops the shirt, and the glasses are back on. “Did you see anything about him dumping another body?”

I turn toward the beach, trying to hide the blush I know is coloring my cheeks. “No. Nothing since that day.”