Cold Shadow (Cold Country #2)(54)

"Nothing. I need coffee, or should I ask your permission for that? Shit." He slammed the canister down and dropped his head into his hands. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm just tired. And worried. It seems like it's just one thing after another. We should be on a beach somewhere making love, not sitting around here waiting for some ass with a Napoleon complex to trump up charges against you."

"Yeah, seems that way, doesn't it?" Nathan couldn't find the energy to care. Quinn wouldn't meet his eyes. He was fine when he'd left him at the office talking with McCorkle about music and the things they'd done that summer before everything went to hell. McCorkle was a good friend, one of the few they had from school. "It's Drew, isn't it?"

Quinn suspected or even knew about this afternoon up at the lake. Nathan hung his head, guilt eating a hole in his stomach.

"What does Drew have to do with anything?" Quinn shouted, his hands shook again, his eyes were as round as saucers. "Fuck Drew."

Nathan felt the vise grip his chest, his heart wanted to stop, time seemed to slow down. "Looks like you did already."

He jumped when Quinn threw the coffee canister across the room. The sound of shattered pottery was like a small explosion. Boom! Pop! The scent of coffee rose in the air instead of smoke. "Did you follow me? What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? You were with him this afternoon, so you first. You know what … forget it, I don't want to talk about it." 

Quinn walked past him and up the stairs. Nathan could smell the other man on him. He smelled like Drew's aftershave and sex. "I'm sorry," he said. He meant it, but it was too late, Quinn was upstairs.

Shame washed over him. Followed closely by guilt, regret, loss, and anger. He wanted to follow Quinn upstairs and scream at him. Punch him, maybe toss him on the bed and fuck his brains out. But it wouldn't solve anything. It would only make him angrier. He didn't want to fight right now. They very rarely ever fought … really fought. Just sometimes. Those times didn't feel like this. This felt … bad.

Nathan paced the room, avoiding the shattered remains of the coffee jar. He couldn't stay here tonight. He couldn't deal with this, not now. Not when he could remember Drew's kiss and not Quinn's.

He went to the back door and grabbed his keys. He pulled on his SD windbreaker and stepped out into the dark, bypassing his bike and Quinn's car because the only place he wanted to go was the last place he needed to be. "Shit, Drew. Why did you have to come back?"

A shadow moved across the patch of light just in front of him. He looked up to find Quinn leaning against the window. They stood that way for a while, just staring at each other. Nathan could tell he was still angry. Still hurting. He was torn between wanting to go to him and leaving entirely.

Watching Quinn in the window, he shrugged. Lifting his hands up asking for-what? He didn't know what he wanted. Quinn just shook his head. Nathan nodded, and turning he walked through the woods on the now well-worn path that connected him to his parents. He let himself in through the mudroom door, reset the alarm, and climbed the stairs in the dark. He fell into his old bed and rolled into the covers.

Covers that smelled like Drew.

* * * * *

Agent Chad Morgan was a fucking dick. His ego blinded him to everything except what he wanted to see. And right now, Captain Nathan Truman was the only person in his narrow scope. There was no evidence linking Nathan to the murders, but because Nathan had lawyered-up, Morgan was spitting mad.

Drew sat across from Nathan and his lawyer at the table in the conference room, notebook in hand. Nathan wouldn't meet Drew's eyes. In fact, he barely acknowledged his existence when he came in earlier this morning. There were dark circles under Nathan's eyes. His clothes were rumpled as if he'd slept in them. Jeans and another surf shirt. Christ, he wore flip-flops. The smirk he gave Morgan when he made the mistake of commenting on his dress had Drew smiling behind his notebook.

"Captain Truman is on vacation, I see no reason he should be in uniform." The lawyer had bowled over the agent. "And Agent Morgan, I'm going to insist on a court order before I allow you to access the GPS on any vehicle belonging to my client or any member of his family, Quinn Anders included."

"If he is innocent then-" Morgan started but the lawyer cut him off.

"The DNA results from down in Georgia on the first victim and from the second and third victim are available. Maybe you've noted the striking piece of evidence pointing to a woman. Yes, I know a female serial killer doesn't fit the profile, and quite likely she may not be our killer, just an unfortunate accessory. An accessory who is not linked to Captain Truman. Mr. Truman has cooperated, as has his family. He has a strong alibi for the weekend the first victims were reported missing."