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Kayla stretchedup on her toes and put every longing, every lonely night, every lingering glance she’d had for this man into the kiss.

She didn’t know how long they stood there wrapped in the moment of hope and happiness, but she eventually became aware of male whistles and giggling teens.

With reluctance, she pulled away and was gratified to see he wasn’t keen on the separation either. He threaded his fingers through hers.

“May I ask you something?” She had difficulty getting the words around her thickening throat.

“Of course.”

“Your family. They sent you to investigate me?—”

“No, sweetheart,” he interrupted. “Not investigate. No one really knew what to do with the information from Aunt Joan.”

“Liv would’ve known.”

He nodded. “They love you, Kayla. Their intentions, no matter how misguided, were pure.”

“And yours?”

“Probably less so . . . in the beginning. But I always knew you were too smart to sink your career on a single vote.”

Kayla closed her eyes, and felt shame singe her ears. “Maybe I’m not as smart as you think.”

He studied her for a long moment. “Maybe,” he kissed her forehead, “you protect your family as passionately as Zeke protects his.”

He knew she was Brodie’s godmother. Her G-man didn’t need any assistance honing his investigative skills.

“Maybe.” She rose on her toes again and kissed him. “What did you need to speak with me about?”

A shadow darkened his features, and he glanced up and down the street. “Is Wade with you?”

“No, he dropped me off.”

“Is he coming back for you?”

She shook her head. “My ride share should be here any second.”

“Cancel it. I’ll drive you home.”

A thrill of anticipation set her heart racing as she retrieved her phone and called up her app. She would happily pay the cancellation fee for a night of makeup sex.

“Done. Where’d you park?”

He raised their clasped hands and kissed her knuckles, then he folded his other hand over the area as if to seal it in place.

Kayla’s conflict meter triggered. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s something I need to tell you. Something upsetting.”

She threw up her mental shields and locked in each vertebra. “I’m ready.”

“The police got a match to the blood spatter left at the scene.”

“Someone I know?”

“Mason Wade.”

“Mason?” She could see no deception, no trickery, no personal agenda. Just a messenger with bad news.

Wrong news.

She slid her hand from between his, needing distance to think, to analyze. “There must be some mistake.”

“I’m afraid not. The DNA lab ran the sample twice.”

Kayla’s mind swirled with images of Mason. His laugh, his bad jokes, his fierce protection.

“You think he—” She couldn’t form the words.

He set a palm on her shoulder. Evidently needing to provide comfort as much as she needed the space in order to process such devastating news.

“Let’s take this one step at a time. See where the evidence leads.”

Strategize.

Plan.

Results.

This she could follow, absorb, act upon.

“Have the police taken Mason into custody?”

“Not yet. He wasn’t at his residence. Can you think of where he might be?”

Kayla worked through what she knew about Mason. He had a teenage daughter named Jozi and—. Stunned, she couldn’t recall another family member’s name, nor a friend’s. She couldn’t with any measure of confidence recount what he did for fun or what he liked for dinner.

“I have no idea,” she admitted.

“None?”

“I’m only just realizing how little I know about him.”

“You told me once that he wasn’t available on the weekends. Do you know why?”

“He does personal security contract work a few weekends per month, and one weekend he goes to some camp in the Piedmont.”

“Camp?”

“A place where he gets range time and can keep his tactical skillset up-to-date.”

“War games?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “They act out different scenarios, like SWAT teams.”

The moment the words were out of her mouth, she grasped their implication. Shocked, she stared at Ash, feeling a volatile mix of disbelief and betrayal. “He couldn’t have, Ash. I can’t believe he would do something so cold-blooded to someone I loved.”

“There could be a reasonable explanation for why his blood was on the tree trunk.” He hooked a knuckle beneath her chin and lifted until her unfocused gaze met his. “How did you come to know Wade?”

“My previous driver moved to Charleston when his wife’s company transferred her.”

“Did you go through an agency or was he a referral?”

“Referral.”

“From your previous driver?”

She shook her head. “Aunt Sybil. Her son served with Mason.”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Call Wade and have him pick you up.”