Lauren had been the one in that courtroom, telling the world what a monster Walker truly was. It had been her face on the TVs, in the newspapers. Hamilton had banged the gavel, but it had been Lauren who sent Walker to Angola.

Then he remembered the way she’d cut through the courthouse. That sexy rolling stride—the way she’d been alone. Back teeth clenching, he gritted out, “I thought the cop was giving you protection.” That had been his order to the handsy cop who’d been way too close to Lauren at the station.

Her delicate brows arched. “Don’t worry, Marshal. I have a police escort here, and he’s waiting outside to take me back to my office once I’m done with the judge. I’m covered.”

Not well enough. He sure hadn’t caught sight of her escort. “Walker killed a woman in your house.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

She should be plenty aware of the danger. Lauren couldn’t pretend like most folks did. Couldn’t act like the monsters weren’t real.

Her breath whispered out as she continued. “He killed a friend, not just a woman. A friend. I’m trying to figure out why Karen was even at my house, and don’t think for a minute, not one single minute”—now she was advancing on him once more, closing the space between them as color lit her cheeks—“that I don’t feel like someone ripped into my heart. Karen was the best friend I had.”

Maybe that’s why she’s dead. He didn’t tell her that. Couldn’t. It was too brutal of a truth.

But Walker was a brutal killer. He’d suffered in jail. Locked up for five long years. Maybe he wanted Lauren to suffer now, too.

Anthony’s hand lifted and brushed across her cheek. She flinched at his touch and pulled away from him.

“Get this elevator moving,” she said, but her voice was husky, reminding him of their past. Tangled sheets. Secrets. “Now.”

No, not just yet.

Studying her carefully, he said, “We’re gonna need the DA’s office to work with my team. Full cooperation.”

She stared back at him. “Did you really think I’d give you anything less?”

With the way things were between them, he hadn’t been sure. He should have known, though. Lauren had always been good at compartmentalizing her life. Hot sex with him in private. Ice in public.

She exhaled slowly. “He killed two people at the prison. That’s what Paul told me.”

Paul. The handsy detective. Anthony nodded.

“He only killed women before.” Her voice was softer now. His hand had clenched into a fist—so he wouldn’t reach out to her again. “But this time, one of the victims was a guard?”

Another nod. “It was a fast kill. More necessity than anything else.” Cold words. They had to be. He didn’t tell her about the doctor’s body. Walker had been up to his old tricks with her. Staring into Lauren’s bright gaze he said, “I’m meeting with the judge, then I’m joining my team. We’re going to search every hangout that Walker had in this area. He’s in Baton Rouge, and he’s going to try to look for security, familiarity.”

Her lips pressed together, then she said, “I want to come with you.”

“Baby, that’s not—”

Her head jerked up. “I’m not your baby.”

Talk about a slip. He sure hadn’t meant for that to roll out.

“What I am…I’m the DA in this town. I want the people here to know we’re doing everything possible to keep the city safe, and I want justice for Karen.” She swallowed. The faint click almost seemed painful to his ears because he knew she was trying to push away the grief from her friend’s death. “I won’t get in your way, but I will be involved, and if I have to go over your head to do it, then I—”

Static crackled on the elevator’s intercom. “Ms. Chandler?”

Her head turned toward the security camera near the speaker in the left corner.

“Do you need assistance?” that crackling voice asked.

She leaned around Anthony, her body brushing lightly against his, and pressed the button to restart the elevator. “No, thank you. We’re good.”

The elevator rose. Their gazes held.

He hadn’t agreed to let her tag along on his hunt.

She hadn’t backed down.

Just like old times.

The doors slid open. “I can help you,” she said quietly as they headed toward the judge’s chambers. “I’m the one who talked to Walker’s friends before and after the trial. I’m the one who interviewed the witnesses. I know him and his habits far better than you.”

Maybe that was true, but he still wanted her away from the danger.

Not getting up close and personal with it.

She waved to a guard, then paused near the judge’s closed chamber doors. The flush had left her cheeks. Now she studied him with a cool gaze. “Unless you don’t think you can manage to keep me safe while I’m with you and your entire team of marshals. Is that the issue? Maybe my safety is too much to ask?”

He almost smiled. Would have, if he hadn’t been so worried about the twisted killer on the loose. “I can do my job.”

“Good. And I can do mine.” She turned away from him. Knocked on the door. “Judge Hamilton!” Her voice rose.

The judge’s secretary wasn’t at her desk. Anthony wasn’t in the mood to wait around for the lady to return so that she could announce his arrival. He didn’t have time to kill. He pulled Lauren back and shoved open the door.

The judge stood just a few feet away from the door. His black robe billowed around him. His face, pale and haggard, reflected his fear.

“What took you both so damn long?” Pierce Hamilton waved his hands, motioning to hurry inside. “What the hell is going on? How did Walker get out?” He marched around to sit behind his big, antique mahogany desk.

Lauren eased into the lush leather chair across from the judge. Anthony didn’t bother sitting. “He stabbed himself with a shiv, got taken to the infirmary at Angola, then he managed to kill a guard and the doctor on duty.”

Hamilton flinched but his gaze didn’t waver. “Did he have help? Is the bastard working alone?”

Now this was the dicey part. “We haven’t found any connection to anyone else…yet.” But Anthony’s instincts were in overdrive. The guy had gotten away from the prison too quickly. Had transportation been waiting? An old friend—or even a new one—who’d been willing to help the Bayou Butcher? Anthony had someone searching through all the visitor records at the prison. If there was a link to anyone who could possibly have assisted Walker, then he would find that link.




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