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O’Malley made a sound to indicate he wasn’t so sure of that.
Jason countered it with a grumbling sound of his own. “I guess that means there’s no sign of Raymond Klein?” Jason asked.
“Nothing. And I do mean nothing. Not even a dog walker or a jogger.” Garrett was several miles away, driving through Klein’s neck of the woods, and though they’d both been at it for nearly an hour, things weren’t looking good.
Their suspects had seemingly disappeared.
Of course, in Corinne Davies’ case, she was possibly dead, but that left three others—Wayne Sandling, Raymond Klein and Erica Fontaine. Jason wanted to speak to all of them, and he didn’t want to wait another minute to do it. Too bad waiting seemed to be on the agenda tonight.
“Why don’t you go home to Lilly and Megan?” O’Malley suggested. “I’ll keep looking around. If any or all of our suspects surface, I’ll call you.”
Considering that it was the sergeant’s night off and that he was doing this surveillance as a favor, Jason didn’t want to take him up on the offer. Still, he didn’t want to leave Megan and Lilly alone any longer. Not that they were alone, exactly. There were two officers standing guard at the house. Jason knew the cops would do their job, but it wasn’t personal for them.
It was personal for him.
He would do whatever it took to protect Megan and Lilly.
“Thanks,” Jason told O’Malley. “I think I will go back to the house and check on things. I won’t be long. Oh, and call me the minute you have any information.”
“Will do. And while you’re checking on things at home, why don’t you get some rest?”
Before he ended the call, Jason assured him that he would. It was a lie. There’d be no rest tonight. Not with the suspects at large. Not with so many things unresolved.
Yes, this was indeed personal.
On the drive home, that one sentence kept going through his head, and though he knew he should be focusing solely on catching a would-be killer, he couldn’t help but think of what had happened earlier.
He’d had sex with Lilly.
Unprotected sex at that.
If there was a name worse than idiot, that’s what he should call himself. No, he didn’t regret the sex part. Though he should have regrets. He didn’t.
He couldn’t.
Making love to her, even in that heated, frantic rush was exactly what he’d dreamed about doing since Lilly had first set foot inside his house. And that need he had for her didn’t have anything to do with Megan. What had happened between Lilly and him was about two people who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Part of that disgusted him. The lack of control. Yet, another part of him wanted to lose control with her all over again.
Hopefully, this time with a condom.
It had been reckless to have unprotected sex. Here she was, just recovering from the coma. She would need lots more physical therapy before she was a hundred percent, and yet he’d risked getting her pregnant.
He frowned at the reaction that caused deep inside him.
A baby. A brother or sister for Megan. Why did that sound so damn appealing when it could cause nothing but problems for Lilly? She was just getting used to being Megan’s mom. She didn’t need any more pressure.
She didn’t need him.
There.
That was it.
The niggling thought that kept at him. Day by day, Lilly was getting back to her old self, and once she was no longer in danger, she would be on the road to a full recovery. She’d resume her business, balance it with motherhood. Lilly was a pro at balancing. At efficiency. At being self-reliant.
She wouldn’t need him.
But he would still need her.
