‘So did I.’ He swallowed hard. ‘God, so did I.’
‘I’d like to say it again,’ she murmured, suddenly remembering where they were. ‘But not here. We kind of have an audience.’
She thought he’d let her go then, but he held on, his face in her hair. ‘Deacon was right. I needed this. Needed you.’
‘Did you finally tell him?’
‘I had to. Had to explain why I was at St Agnes’s at seven a.m.’
She had to keep from clenching her jaw in rage, because that wouldn’t help him now. But goddammit. He’d been forced to share the secret he’d been terrified to tell his closest friends and family. A killer had stolen that from him too.
The killer who now had a name. Wyatt Hanson. She hated the bastard. Hated him.
‘I want him to die,’ she choked out against Adam’s neck. ‘I want him to die a thousand painful deaths.’
Adam stilled, then pulled back to kiss her cheek. ‘Deacon?’
She snorted a surprised laugh. ‘No. Should I hate him too?’
‘Nah.’ Adam lowered her until her feet were firmly on the floor again. He loosened his hold, but he didn’t let her go, just kept staring at her face. ‘At first he was hurt and mad that I hadn’t told him, but supportive.’
Looking up, she studied his face. ‘What else, Adam?’
‘I . . .’ He drew a huge breath. ‘Would you mind if we don’t talk about it just yet?’
‘Whatever you need.’
His eyes changed then, growing somehow darker. ‘Really?’ His whisper was like warm velvet brushing her skin.
She shivered. ‘Yes. But . . . audience, Adam. Audience.’
He looked behind her, his cheeks reddening. She watched his eyes dart right, then left. Diesel sat in the chair and her grandfather lounged in the bed. Both were knitting.
Adam cleared his throat. ‘How are you, Mr Fallon?’ he called.
Meredith turned in time to see her grandfather exchange soft amusement for mock ire. ‘You planning to actually come into the room, Kimble? Because I won’t have you showing up to whisk her away like some teenaged hooligan blowing his car horn outside.’
Meredith rolled her eyes. ‘Papa. His name is Adam.’
‘I’ll stop calling him Kimble when he stops calling me Mr Fallon.’
‘Fair enough,’ Adam said. Gripping Meredith’s hand in his, he went over to the bed and shook her grandfather’s hand. ‘How are you, Clarke?’
‘Better. They say I can go home this afternoon.’
‘Maybe,’ Diesel grunted. ‘They said maybe.’
Adam sat in the other chair and pulled Meredith to sit on his knee. ‘I heard you two were busy this morning,’ he said. ‘You sure you don’t secretly want to be a cop, Diesel?’
Diesel’s look of horror made them all laugh. ‘Hell, no. Stone and I are just getting used to making nice with Scarlett at holidays and family functions. It was hard enough having one cop in our midst. Now we’re overrun. The very thought of it . . . No, thank you.’
Adam laughed again, his mood seeming lighter than it had been when he’d first come in. Or maybe Meredith just wanted so badly for him to be happy.
‘Seriously, though,’ Diesel continued, ‘we, uh, found something else we didn’t tell your lieutenant about.’
Adam straightened, instantly alert. ‘Okay. And?’
Diesel told him about finding the email detailing the ten-thousand-dollar deposit to the former social worker’s bank account and Adam grew grimly thoughtful.
‘I knew about that, actually. Isenberg said it was in the information she received from that detective in Indianapolis. He also sent her the caseworker’s phone logs. Hanson called her just before her bank sent her the email about the deposit.’
Meredith and Diesel exchanged smug glances, telling Adam there was more.
‘I don’t suppose there’s any way you could access the bank account?’ Adam asked.
Diesel’s brows shot up. ‘For what purpose?’
‘Not to move funds. I don’t want to touch the money. I would like to make it so that he can’t access a single penny. Can you find his password, then change it? It’s plausible deniability if we’re led to the account by another leg of the investigation.’
Diesel grinned. ‘Already found his password. Give me two seconds to get in again.’ He set his knitting aside and opened his computer, his huge hands flying over the keyboard.
Adam nudged Meredith off his knee so he could look at Diesel’s computer, and sucked in a shocked breath. ‘Holy God. He’s got five million dollars in this account.’
Diesel’s expression darkened. ‘He may have others. That’s the only one I found. What do you want the password changed to?’
‘What is it now?’
‘KingTriton89.’
Adam frowned, then nodded. ‘His daughter is Ariel.’
‘I put The Little Mermaid into my software as a possible source,’ Diesel confirmed.
Jaw tight, Adam turned from the laptop. ‘Part of me wants the new password to be a combination of the names of all of his victims, but he might figure that out. So make it completely random. Letters and numbers. I don’t want to know what you call it.’
Diesel nodded. ‘I can do that. But if you don’t know, you can’t be sure I’ll tell you the new password. I could steal all that money for myself.’
‘But you won’t. If I’ve learned anything through this, it’s that actions are the real demonstration of truth. Your actions have always been above reproach.’
Diesel did a small double-take, his mouth opening and closing before saying simply, ‘Thanks.’ And if his eyes got suspiciously bright, nobody mentioned it.
Adam reached for Meredith’s hand again. ‘Is it okay if I borrow her for a little while, Clarke? I need to . . . process.’
‘Sure,’ her grandfather said, sounding truly pleased. ‘You’ll take care of her.’
‘With my life.’ Adam tugged her hand. ‘Come on. I’ve got Deacon and Scarlett waiting in a van downstairs. They’re being extra careful with me today.’
She leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek. ‘Good. It’s high time someone was.’ Then she kissed her grandfather’s cheek and surprised Diesel with a little peck as well. ‘I’ll be back later, Papa. If they release you, call me right away.’
‘I’ll make sure he’s not alone,’ Diesel said.
‘I know you will. Thank you, Diesel.’
Clarke waved his hand. ‘Go, Merry. Make some merry.’ His eyes widened comically. ‘No, wait. Nix that. No Merries. Make no Merries.’
She and Adam left on a laughing groan, which is what he’d wanted.
They started toward the elevator, then came to a dead stop at the sight of Kate’s Decker leaning against the wall outside her door. Every muscle in his face was taut, his head tilted back, eyes closed.
‘I just stopped in to check on Kate,’ Meredith whispered to Adam. ‘She was fine.’
The two of them cautiously approached Special Agent Decker Davenport. ‘Decker?’ Meredith murmured to the big man who looked so miserable. ‘What’s happened?’
He didn’t startle, because of course he’d known they were there. The man had amazing instincts that had kept him alive during the three years he’d spent working undercover with a dangerous human trafficking gang.
‘She’s okay,’ Decker said in a quiet drawl. ‘I just needed a minute. I’m so fucking angry. I want to find the man who hurt her and rip his fucking head off.’
Adam squeezed Decker’s arm. ‘You don’t have to. He’s dead.’
Meredith’s eyes widened. She hadn’t heard this yet and wondered what else had happened that put the sadness in Adam’s eyes.
‘Did he suffer?’ Decker asked gruffly.
‘Not enough,’ Adam replied. ‘He was killed by his partner. Snipping off loose ends.’
Meredith thought of Adam’s near miss that morning and her heart stuttered. Adam was not a loose end. He’s mine. Possessiveness welled within her, along with the fierce need to protect this man. She’d keep him safe – his heart and every other part of him. Whatever that took to do.
‘Is the partner still alive?’ Decker asked, very quietly.
‘Yes, but we know who he is now,’ Adam said.