Page 7 of Headless Hollow

“You’re free to go, Detective Crane, but we may have more questions for you,” the sheriff said, and I wanted to smack him. He was wasting time looking into Branson. We could use all the help we could get to close this case, but not by having our private lives uselessly turned inside out for public consumption.

“Please have your M.E. send the body to my office. I’m taking over the autopsy, and if you have an issue with that, then you can take it up with your boss. You can also explain why it is that you want to hinder the investigation of an ongoing case in another jurisdiction that could lead to a quicker arrest.” I held out my business card and loved that he took it even though his teeth ground together. “The Horseman has already claimed a dozen lives so unless you want to deviate manpower and resources to the cause, I suggest you send the rest of your file to Detective Crane when you’re done acting like he’s a suspect.”

“I’ll be in touch,” he said.

“I’m sure you will,” I countered as Branson stepped up beside me before we walked out of the house. We didn’t say anything until we were in the car. I looked at him as he sat there staring out the windshield, his hands gripping the steering wheel, but he didn’t turn on the car. “I’m so sorry, Branson.”

He shook his head and looked over at me. “No, don’t be sorry. This is not your fault, and Betsy and I weren’t together anymore. She had a whole new life, and I…well, my feelings are elsewhere.” I swallowed as I read between the lines. He really had been flirting with me, and I’d been shooting him down because I thought he was engaged. Hello miscommunication. This would’ve gone so much smoother if he’d just said they were finished.

“Why didn’t you tell me that the two of you had split up?”

“Honestly, I was embarrassed. Everyone thought we’d be together forever, including her parents, who are still not speaking to me. All the guys at work kept telling me not to screw this up. ‘Crane, you really punched above the belt with that one.’ Engagement gifts were still coming from people. It just really wasn’t something I wanted to talk about or mention to anyone. Betsy had an issue with me going into policing, but the town was quiet enough that she wasn’t concerned until I made detective and was always working cases that scared her.” He shook his head and looked at me. “I didn’t even have to say anything, she saw the local posts about all the bad shit. She wanted to hide from it all and would start in on me about why I didn’t warn her that there were drug dealers in town or that a girl was raped. I realized that she wanted to live with her head in the sand and see the town as safe and picturesque. It’s a fairytale, and I don’t live that way. I can’t. Every hour I had to work overtime, she knew something was happening and would start texting me every ten minutes for updates until I shut off my phone. It became a lot and the distance between us grew until it was a cavernous void dividing us.” He sighed and started the car. “The only thing I regret is that my work still caught up to her, that maybe if we’d split sooner when we first started having issues, then she would be alive. I hate to think that she was targeted, and this happened because of me.”

Reaching out, I laid my hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault. We can’t control what this psychopath does, and there was no way to know he would go after Christian any more than we could’ve predicted what he did to Betsy.”

“I know, but….”

Leaning closer, I cupped his cheek, loving the feel of the dusting of his five o’clock shadow under my palm. “There are no buts, Branson. We will catch this guy. Let’s get some sleep and regroup tomorrow.”

He leaned into my touch, and as wrong as it was considering the circumstances, my pulse pounded harder.

“Thank you, Izzy. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you here with me tonight.” Grabbing my wrist, he kissed my palm and then started the car.

I didn’t think my feelings could get any more confusing when it came to Branson, but being happy that his ex-fiancé was dead and he was turning to me added a whole new layer.

Five

Izzy

The drive to Branson’s house was quiet. There really wasn’t much to say. We’d both lost someone we’d cared about deeply in the last twenty-four hours, and all it did was solidify my fear that this killer could get close to me or anyone I loved. Now, my mom and step-dad living two hours away in Lafayette didn’t seem far enough. Heck, at this point, the other side of the world didn’t seem far enough.

Branson had gone through the motions of being the hospitable host when we got to his house, but it felt like he’d shutdown and was blaming himself for what happened. Deciding to give him his space, I unpacked my suitcase, showered, and remained in my room. But my mind wouldn’t stop racing and staring at the ceiling was becoming a sport.

Tossing off the blankets, I got up and slipped out into the hall to search for a drink in the kitchen, but reaching the bottom step I froze as I stared at Branson sitting in the living room. His eyes were unfocused, and a glass of what looked to be whiskey was in his hand. Turning, I took a step to head back up and leave him to his thoughts.

“Izzy?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I said softly. His eyes locked with mine, and nothing short of a thousand galloping horses would explain the feeling that was thundering through my chest.

“You didn’t, I haven’t been able to sleep.” He knocked back the rest of his drink and stood. Walking to the small corner bar, he poured himself another drink and looked over his shoulder at me. “Do you want one?”

“Sure, two fingers, please,” I said and padded deeper into the darkened room. The only light was coming from the kitchen. Branson walked toward me, and I shivered as his eyes reflected an unearthly shade that matched the whiskey in his hands.

“Here you go,” Branson said.

Wrapping my hand around the glass, I expected him to let go, but instead, he stood staring at me with our fingers touching. I suddenly wished that I’d thought to put on more than just an oversized T-shirt that I used as a nightdress. There was an electric charge to his touch, and I had to stop myself from moaning or stepping closer to him. He finally let go, but my heart didn’t settle, and my hand shook slightly as I took a sip of the drink.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, and I choked on the liquid as it burned a trail down my throat. He took the drink like a shot and set his glass down before taking mine from my trembling fingers. His hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “Forgive me.”

There was no time to contemplate what he meant before he crushed his lips to mine, and there was no stopping the moan that was ripped from my throat. My brain reeled as my heart stopped and my lungs forgot how to work properly. The world narrowed in on the feel of his lips and how he tasted as his tongue invaded my mouth and my senses.

“Please, dear Lord, forgive me, but I’ve wanted you for so long,” Branson said against my lips. Had I just heard him right? I understood the words, but this all seemed out of left field.

Laying my hand on his chest, I took a step back and sucked in a breath of air that I desperately needed. “Branson, you’re grieving.”

He stepped toward me, his eyes trained on my mouth, and I took another small step back. “That’s not what’s going on, that’s not the reason I kissed you, and it’s definitely not the reason why I want to do this,” he said, and I shuddered as he stepped into my personal space once more, his hand sliding under the shirt and gripping my naked ass. “No underwear, fuck that is hot Izzy.”

“Branson….”