“Hey, we’d just made our first big score,” he reminded Griff. “I thought we should celebrate.”
Griff arched a brow. They’d been seniors together in college since Griff had managed to finish in three years rather than the traditional four. At the time, Griff had completed a school project that created a computer program that could perform facial recognition at twice the speed as any other. Rylan had been confident that he could sell the program.
And he had.
For a ton of money.
When the first check had come in, Rylan had headed to the local hangout and gotten plastered along with half the student body.
Griff, on the other hand, had put his money in the bank and gone to bed early. His way of celebrating.
Just a wild and crazy dude.
“We?” he demanded.
Rylan tried to look innocent. “I drank several toasts in your honor. I swear.”
Griff sipped his coffee. “And the night you decided to sneak into the Rapson headquarters and got arrested? That was another three-o’clock-in-the-morning phone call.”
Rylan shrugged. “I was trying to prove to them that they had a shitty security system. If you’ll remember I managed to score us a twenty-thousand-dollar project.”
Griff ’s lips twitched. He’d been furious when Rylan had phoned from jail. They’d been in California less than a year and Rylan had been determined to get a contract from the corporation that owned more than a thousand storage units throughout the state. When they refused to believe there was anything wrong with their current system, Rylan had sneaked his way into their headquarters, telephoning the CEO of the company from his own office.
The president had predictably called the cops, who’d hauled Rylan to jail.
Thankfully, the board members of the corporation had been impressed by Rylan’s ingenuity, and not only dropped all charges against him, but also rewarded them with a hefty contract.
“Fair enough.” Griff ’s smile faded as he set aside his mug. “I just want you to know I appreciate your sacrifice. This was supposed to be your family time with Jaci and your father.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Rylan waved aside his words. “To be honest, it wasn’t that great a sacrifice. Jaci was about to start baking five dozen chocolate chip cookies, and she was giving me a look that said she was expecting me to help.”
“I thought she was cutting back on her catering business?”
Rylan grimaced. Griff understood that his friend didn’t object to Jaci working. She was an artist in the kitchen. But he had insisted that she try to slow down. She’d been burning the candle at both ends for years trying to make ends meet.
“She has,” Rylan said, his expression frustrated. “But that doesn’t stop every church, club, and local charity from calling her whenever they have a potluck dinner to raise money.”
“So you get to be her sous-chef ?”
“Sometimes I wash dishes,” Rylan said dryly. “And other times I get to keep Riff and Raff from causing complete chaos.”
Griff laughed. The thought of his sophisticated, charismatic friend spending his days with his hands in dishwater and corralling Jaci’s gigantic mutts was mind-boggling.
“A year ago you were walking the red carpet with a pretty starlet and planning to spend the holidays skiing in St. Moritz,” he said.
Rylan’s features softened. “There’s no place I’d rather be than spending the night in that small farmhouse with Jaci in my arms.”
“Amazing.”
“It is,” Rylan agreed. “Once you find the right woman all your priorities will change.”
Just a week ago Griff would have felt a stab of envy. What man didn’t want to find a lover and companion he could spend the rest of his life with?
Now he just smiled.
“I’ve already discovered that,” he said.
Rylan frowned. “Carmen?”
“Yes, Carmen.”
There was an awkward pause before Rylan cleared his throat. “Do you remember our conversation when I came back to tell you I intended to marry Jaci?”
Griff nodded. He’d been standing in the kitchen when Rylan announced his intention to return to Missouri and live with Jaci, although he’d promised that he would travel back to California on a regular basis. Griff had been genuinely happy for his friend, but he’d also known that Rylan’s protective instincts had been in hyperdrive when Jaci’s life had been threatened.
“I warned you that a man shouldn’t make important decisions in the heat of battle,” he said.
Rylan eyed him, as if he was trying to bore deep into Griff ’s brain.
“You were right. It wasn’t the time to make any big decisions.”
“Then why didn’t you take my advice?”
“Because I love Jaci. And I’ve known her my entire life.” He said the words as if they were undeniable facts. “You barely know this Carmen Jacobs.”
Griff narrowed his gaze. He didn’t need to know Carmen since she was riding a tricycle or making macaroni art. There’d been an undeniable connection between them from the beginning.
“I know her well enough to give my life to protect her.”
Rylan parted his lips, no doubt intending to continue the argument. Then he caught sight of Griff ’s expression and he instead heaved a small sigh.
Rylan never bothered fighting losing battles.
“It’s not going to come to that,” he promised.
Griff glanced toward the wide opening that led toward the staircase. For now, Carmen was safely tucked in his bed. But he wasn’t stupid enough to think that she was going to be willing to remain locked in this house forever.
A day, maybe two, and she was going to insist they do something to try to find the killer.
“I hope not,” he muttered.
Rylan reached out to squeeze his shoulder. A silent promise that Griff wasn’t alone.
“I called in some favors while I waited for my flight,” the younger man told him.
Griff had expected no less. “And?”
“The California Bureau of Investigation has promised to send agents to assist the local cops,” he said. “If the killer . . . . or killers . . . hope to mimic the Morning Star, they’ll have to bring the bodies to the beach at some point.”
Griff shoved his fingers into his hair, frustration bubbling through him.
“Assuming that they intend to copy the killers in the book.”
Rylan frowned. “I thought that was your theory?”
Griff paced across the floor. He couldn’t shake the sensation that he was missing something. Like they had all the pieces to a puzzle, but they’d put it together wrong.
“It’s a theory, but so far the only real evidence we have is the pictures that were sent to Carmen, and the bodies that were found in Kansas,” he said. “They both point toward one of the killers she profiled, and there were the flowers that were sent to her hotel room. Still . . .” His words trailed away as he gave a shake of his head.
“Is there something else you want me to do?” Rylan demanded.
“I don’t know. I—” His words cut off as the phone he’d stuck in his front pocket suddenly vibrated. Pulling it out he felt a surge of hope as he saw the name on the screen. “Speak of the devil,” he breathed.
“Who is it?”
“Nikki.” He pressed the phone to his ear and paced into the living room. “Tell me you got the bastard.”
His brief optimism was immediately squashed. Nikki not only denied any leads on the killers, but she revealed that he had even more reason to worry about Carmen. With a terse good-bye, he slid the phone back in his pocket and called out for Rylan to follow him.
He was in his office and seated at his desk when Rylan hurried to join him.
“What happened?”
Griff fired up his computer, his hands unsteady as he typed on the keyboard.
“Carmen’s PR firm received another packet of photos,” he said.
Rylan sucked in an audible breath. “Like the first ones?”
“Yeah,” Griff said. “This time they realized that it might be important and opened it. Once they saw the pictures they sent them straight to the FBI, who contacted Nikki. She’s on the way to Baltimore.”
Rylan grabbed a chair and set it next to Griff. He leaned forward as Griff clicked into his e-mail.