Don’t Play With Odin by Cynthia Eden

Chapter Two

The swirl of blue lights lit up the exterior of Maisey’s house. The two uniformed cops had finished their search, and just as Maisey had predicted, they hadn’t turned up much. They’d been helpful enough. Even promised to patrol more in the area.

One guy had even said he’d try to get a crime scene tech out the next day…

But neither fellow had seemed to think the crime would be solved. They’d asked for the serial number of her laptop. Told her that they’d check the local pawn shops. Then they’d gotten a call to another scene.

That call had led to the currently flashing lights as they prepared to rush away.

A twig snapped behind Odin. He didn’t move.

“Is everything all right?” A male voice called as Maisey’s neighbor closed in. “I saw the police lights, and I was afraid something had happened to Maisey!”

Slowly, Odin turned his head to look at the man. Tall, leanly muscled. Dressed in khaki pants and a white, dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Clean-cut. Sounding appropriately concerned. Looking it, too, as the blue lights darted over his face.

“She’s fine,” Odin assured him. “Just had a break-in.”

“A break-in?” The man took a lurching step toward Maisey’s house. “I should go check on her!”

Odin moved into his path. “Yeah…no.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

The guy jerked to a halt. “Who are you?”

I’m her PI. “Maisey’s special friend.”

“What?”

“I’ll be helping her out tonight.” A pause. “Don’t think I caught your name.” His gaze scanned over the neighbor. A thorough scan from the guy’s head to his slightly dirty dress shoes.

The neighbor craned to peer around Odin. “Didn’t catch yours, either.”

“Odin.” A pause. “Did you catch it?” He pushed a hint of steel into his voice. A hint of…stop looking at her and deal with me, asshole.

The man’s head turned back to him. “I did.” Flat. “And I’m Clay. Clay Prescott.”

“Were you home tonight, Clay?”

“Why?” Suspicious. Guarded.

Odin shrugged. “Because I thought you might have seen the jerk who broke into Maisey’s home.”

Clay glanced back over his shoulder, toward his place. “I wasn’t home.”

“Huh. Too bad. If you’d been here, you might have been able to spot the intruder.”

Clay’s attention shifted back to him. “I didn’t see anything. I just got back a few minutes ago. I didn’t—Maisey!”

Now he did lunge around Odin and rush toward Maisey. Clay sure seemed eager to get close to her. As he approached, Odin saw Maisey stiffen.

Clay lifted his hands, as if he’d touch her—hell, no, don’t you dare—but he froze awkwardly before actually making contact. “Uh, are you ok?”

Maisey’s gaze flew toward Odin. Then back to Clay. “Fine.”

She sounded anything but fine.

“Your friend…” Clay jerked his thumb toward Odin. “He said you had a break-in.”

“Yes.” Soft.

Odin sidled away from them, but he kept his eyes on Maisey. It only took him a moment to push through the bushes, to get next to the car parked in Clay’s drive, and to touch the hood…

Ice cold.

No way the guy had just gotten home. That made lie number one for Clay Prescott.

“What was taken?” Clay demanded to know.

Well, well. Clay was certainly the curious-slash-nosey neighbor.

The police cruiser pulled away. The lights were still flashing as the cops raced to the next scene.

Odin sidled back toward Maisey.

“My laptop,” he heard her say. “A few other things.” A nice, vague reply, Odin thought. Better than her saying, “My murder board.” A sigh escaped Maisey’s lips as she added, “But the laptop was the most important thing.”

Clay curled his hand around her shoulder. Gave her a seemingly reassuring squeeze.

Odin’s eyes narrowed. You need to stop that shit. A growl rumbled in his throat.

Clay’s gaze immediately jumped to him.

“Don’t,” Odin told him flatly.

“Don’t…what?”

“Don’t touch what isn’t yours.”

Clay’s eyes seemed to bulge. “Excuse me?”

“No.” Odin closed in. He lifted Clay’s hand off a visibly uncomfortable Maisey. “She doesn’t want you touching her. So you don’t.”

Maisey crept closer to Odin.

Clay’s gaze drifted between them. “Special friend,” he muttered.

Odin inclined his head. “Very special. The kind of friend who gets seriously pissed when anything or anyone upsets Maisey.” And he was staring straight at someone who upset her very, very much. It was time for Clay to exit the scene. But first, “Where did you say you were tonight?”

“I didn’t.” Clay’s attention shifted back to Maisey.

The man sure seemed to enjoy staring at her.

Too much.

Maisey’s arm brushed against Odin. She was almost standing on top of his feet. She’d also gotten very quiet. When she’d come to his office, she’d been a bundle of energy and words. She’d told him that she talked a lot when she was nervous.

Apparently, when she was scared, she went dead silent. Odin made a mental note to never forget that about her.

Actually, he made a mental note to remember everything about her.

“Where were you?” Odin asked as he sized up Maisey’s suspect.

“Why the hell do you want to know?” Clay’s focus was still on Maisey.

He needed to stop that shit.

“Because you’re her only neighbor,” Odin replied.

Maisey caught his arm. Put it around her shoulders.

Odin stiffened. But if she wanted him holding her…

He pulled her closer.

Clay’s stare finally rose to lock with his. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough light for Odin to clearly make out the guy’s expression.

But I’m betting he’s pissed.

“You’re her only neighbor,” Odin repeated smoothly. “So I thought you might have seen something useful. Coming or going from your destination, that is.”

“I was out walking along the beach. Watching the sunset then taking in the stars. Like I said, I only just returned home. Didn’t see anything useful.” A long exhale. “I’m sorry this happened, Maisey. I keep meaning to get one of those security doorbell cameras. If I’d had one, at least I could have seen the people driving by on the street.”

“Maisey will have one of those cameras installed first thing tomorrow,” Odin assured him. “In fact, her whole house will be equipped with cameras. She’s getting a long overdue security upgrade.” His voice lowered. “This will not happen again.”

“I’m getting an upgrade?” Maisey asked as her head turned toward him.

“Yes.” He felt her stare, but his focus was on his target. “Thanks for being neighborly,” he said to Clay. “But I’ve got Maisey from here on out.”

Clay didn’t take the hint. In fact, he leaned toward Maisey, even as she stood in Odin’s arms. “If you need me, remember, I’m right next door.” His voice deepened as Clay added, “I can come to you anytime, day or night.”

For some reason, those last few words…

I can come to you anytime, day or night.

They felt like a threat.

They even sounded like one.

So Odin responded as if they were one. “The hell you will.”

Clay jerked back. “What?”

“I’ll be with Maisey, day or night. So don’t worry. I’ve got her covered.” From here on out.

Maisey was stiff against him.

Clay slowly backed away.

Odin waited until Clay turned for his house and then—

“It’s a good thing you had all the files from your laptop backed up on your computer at work,” he told Maisey, making sure his voice was loud enough to carry. “That will sure help you out.”

Clay paused. A barely-there pause. A barely-there stumble of his feet. Then he was hurrying for his house. Almost double-timing it to get inside.

Oh, no. Not suspicious. At all.

“Odin.” Maisey’s voice. Whispery. Husky. Sensual. “Odin, I don’t have—”

He turned her in his arms. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll stay the night.” Again, his voice was nice and loud. He knew they had an avid audience.

Maisey gave a little start of surprise.

Odin lowered his head so that his lips were near her ear. Her delectable scent teased him. “Inside,” he barely breathed the word.

She shivered.

“We’ll talk…inside,” he promised. His lips were so close to her that they brushed over the shell of her ear.

Another shiver shook her. But she gave a quick nod and pulled from him. Maisey nearly ran back to her house.

Odin took his time following her. Nice and slow. He let his gaze sweep over the area, and when he reached her porch, he turned toward Clay’s house.

Clay was watching him. His porch light fell on Clay as he stared straight over at Odin.

Odin tossed him a wave. Then he stalked inside Maisey’s home. He kicked the door shut behind him.

“OhmyGod,” Maisey’s voice was cracking. “What was all of that about?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. Put his back against the door. Considered his options. Decided to go with the truth. “Your neighbor is a liar. The hood of his car was ice cold. No way he just arrived home.”

Her eyes flared.

“He’s hiding something.” No, Odin wasn’t jumping on the serial killer theory, but he was worried. Clay had stared at Maisey like she was a freaking bowl of sweet, warm milk, and he was a thirsty cat.

“Why did you tell him I had a backup? I don’t have a backup! There is no backup for the material on my laptop!”

“He doesn’t know that. And now, if he is our guy, he’ll go after what he thinks is on the computer at your office. When he makes his move…” If he made a move. “We’ll have him.”

Her breath shuddered out. She inched toward him. “So you really believe me?” Hope glinted in her eyes.

“I believe something is happening here.” Two break-ins? That was bad. No way was he leaving Maisey on her own until he sorted out what was going on with her. “Guess you convinced me, after all.” Even without her murder board. He stuck out his hand. “Maisey Bright, you just hired yourself a PI.”

She looked at his hand. Then at him. Even before she launched forward, Odin knew she was going to hug him again.

He didn’t hate the idea. In fact, when Maisey happily launched her body at him and gave him a surprisingly strong squeeze, warmth poured through him.

Sometimes, you didn’t realize quite how cold you were, not until someone offered you a little fire.

“Thank you!” Maisey exclaimed. Her head pressed to his chest. “You will not regret this, I swear it!”

His hand lifted. He’d been intending to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, just as he’d done before. But…

Instead…

Both of his hands moved to curl around her. To hold her. He was way bigger than her. So much stronger. But damn if he didn’t feel like they fit together. Like she felt right.

“Odin?” Her head lifted. She didn’t let him go. Just kept herself crushed against him. “You won’t regret taking the case.”

Part of him already did. Because being this close to Maisey…

Hello, torture.

And Odin knew a thing or twenty about torture.

He forced his hands to release her, but she didn’t let him go. Just kept beaming up at him.

“You’re a hugger,” he finally said. “Got it.”

Surprise flashed on her face. “Actually, I’m not.” A laugh tumbled from her as Maisey’s dimples peeked at him. The laugh was light and sweet and exactly what he would expect from her. All infectious and cutely disarming. “I guess I just like hugging you.”

Dangerous.

That’s what she was. Sweetly disarming and incredibly dangerous. Because the woman should not go around dropping bombshell statements like that to him.

“This is probably the wrong time to ask.” Maisey licked her lips.

Do not react. Do not—

“But do you have a girlfriend? Wife? Any sort of significant other who would—”

“No.”

Her smile expanded. “That’s fabulous. Wonderful to know.”

It was? Wait. Did she feel the same hot surge of attraction that he—

“This way, no one will get upset when you spend the night with me.”

He focused on breathing. But her scent just got sucked into his nostrils.

“That is what you said you’d do, wasn’t it? Spend the night with me?” Now she did let him go, and he immediately missed her warmth as he went back to being in the cold.

Her eyebrows did a fast wiggle. “I’m assuming you said that statement all extra loud so Clay would know I’d have protection tonight.”

“Yes.” A rasp.

“And maybe you were just bullshitting but if you could actually stay, I would feel a million times better. At least, until I get the upgraded alarm system you were talking about. Wait, was that for real, too?” Now worry flashed across her face. “But if I’m giving you all of my savings to cover the costs of the case, I won’t have enough money to pay for the new alarm, too, and—”

“I’m not a bastard.”

“I never thought you were.” An immediate reply.

“Not some dick who takes advantage of desperate, really attractive women.”

Her eyebrows didn’t wiggle, but they did fly up. “Did you just call me desperate?”

Shit. He had. War would say it had been a typical Odin move. Open mouth, insert big-ass foot.

“And…really attractive?” She bit her lower lip. “Did you call me that, too?”

Because he didn’t want to risk saying something else wrong, Odin gave a curt nod.

“That is—no man has ever told me that before.”

“That you’re desperate?” No, he was sure the fools hadn’t. It was a dumbass thing to say. “Yeah, about that. I’m—”

“Really attractive.” She gave him a quick, nervous smile. “You’re the first man to tell me that.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Uh, no?” Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not.”

He backed up a step. Took her in. Every inch of her. “You’re telling me…no guy has ever said you were beautiful?”

That quick laugh came from her again. “Actually, I have been told that, but the men in question were both at bars and drinking was involved so…” Her words trailed away. “It’s not like it’s something that is just dropped into a casual conversation.”

She’d been surrounded by idiots. Obviously. “Consider this a casual conversation.”

“It…doesn’t feel casual.”

“Whatever.” He stared straight into her eyes. “You are beautiful.”

Her smile stretched.

“Probably the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

Now her eyes were sparkling.

“And I would love to fuck you all night long.”

Her lips parted. A faint squeak emerged from her mouth.

Sonofabitch. “I should have held that last part back. I can see that now.” He scraped a hand over his jaw. “My bad. Won’t happen again.”

Her lips were still parted. Her eyes were huge.

“Yeah, so, my conversational skills? Not always the best.” Far from it. “You don’t have to worry,” Odin tried to reassure her. “I was just—uh, stating a fact. Kind of was on a roll and I went a little too far.” He held his hands up, palms out, toward her. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m not planning to touch you, and there is zero fucking pressure.”

A blink. Then another one. Her head slid to the left. “Do you mean…there is zero pressure for me while I am around you—as in, no pressure in general—or that there is zero pressure to fuck you?”

Now he raked his hand through his hair. “Both?”

More laughter.

Well, at least she was having a good time. “I’ll keep my hands far away from you,” he growled as both of his hands dropped to his sides. “I was just putting the truth out there. You’re an attractive woman. Fucking you would be great and—dammit, I need to just stop while I am only about a mile behind.” He squared his shoulders. “I’ll bunk on your couch tonight. Tomorrow, I will get you a new alarm system installed.” Time to get this runaway train back on the tracks. Time to stop talking about how much he’d love fucking her. Even though…yes, he would love it one hell of a lot. “And, no, you are not paying me separately for the upgrade. We’ll sort out the bill later. The priority now is to get you safe. If the perp has been in here twice already, we don’t want him going for a third shot.” Because maybe on that third time when he came inside, he’d find Maisey.

Odin waited for her response.

Her warm gaze slowly drifted from the top of his head all the way down to his freaking football-field-like shoes. She shook her head. “No.”

“No?” Was she calling off their partnership? Already? Just because he’d confessed that—

“You are entirely too big to ever fit on my couch. That will not happen.”

His gaze cut to the couch. Oh, hell, no, not happening. “I’ll take the floor.”

“That will be horribly uncomfortable!”

“Trust me, I’ve slept on worse. Like a thousand times worse when I was in the field. Give me a pillow, and I’ll think I’m in paradise.”

She inched closer to him. “The field? Were you in the military like Warren—ah, War?”

Different branch from War. “I served.”

She stared at him, all expectant-like. Oh. Maybe he was supposed to share more?

Maisey motioned toward him.

“I can’t talk about most of it,” he mumbled. “Classified.”

“What were you, some super-secret black ops guy?” she teased back.

“Exactly.” He wasn’t teasing.

Based on the swift inhale she gave, he realized that she knew that fact, too. “SEAL?” she whispered.

“No.” That had been War. A fish from day one.

She tapped her chin. Assessed him again. Nodded. “The unit.”

His shoulders stiffened.

“You’re Delta, aren’t you? I mean, you were?”

He didn’t reply. Neither confirmed nor denied.

“That’s the army’s elite group. Delta and the SEALs are the most highly trained special ops groups that Uncle Sam has. First established in 1977 by Colonel Charlie Beckwith, the ops are usually secret.” She swallowed. “Supposed to be around 1200 Delta Force ops out there. The Unit. Task Force Green. They’re called both and even though the US military won’t officially admit that—”

“How do you know so much about Delta?”

“I’m good with research. Didn’t I mention that before? I’m working to get my Ph.D., and it’s not like you can get one of those without knowing how to research your ass off.” Her gaze flickered away from his. “It’s the research that got me into my current situation. I started on a missing person case. A personal case. Went down the rabbit hole. Couldn’t find my way out.” She turned away from him. Made her way to what turned out to be a closet. As he watched, she rustled around inside and pulled out a pillow and some blankets.

He didn’t move as she shuffled back to him. But her gaze dipped to the items she held, and Maisey shook her head. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor. Not after you’ve been nice enough to help me.”

Nice? She had not called him that. “First sweet, now nice.” Hell. “Lady, you could not be more wrong about me.” Did they need to revisit the whole “fucking” part of their conversation?

“Oh, that’s right.” Maisey rocked back on her heels. “You like to be salty.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “Are you teasing me?”

“Sorry. Yes. But it’s been a crazy day and I’m kind of all over the place right now.” She blew out a breath. “Why don’t you take my bed? I’ll take the couch.”

He shook his head. “My mom raised me better than that.” He tugged the pillow and blankets from her. His fingers brushed against hers.

Maisey gave a startled jerk.

Interesting. “You should check my references.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re making another mistake. Just letting me stay tonight without any worries. I could be waiting until you go to sleep and then I will—”

She retreated a step. “You’re back to trying to scare me.”

He was back to trying to get Maisey to take precautions. “Want some references? You mentioned the news station earlier. After the serial case, War and I became friends with the station manager. You can call Simone Davis, and she can vouch for me.”

Maisey pulled out her phone. Dialed the number he gave her, and after a brief talk with Simone, she nodded. Then she curled her hand around the phone as she lowered it back to her side. “I met her once. She came to an event at the college.” More hair escaped to join the curls around her face. “Simone just said you can watch her ass anytime.”

His lips twitched.

“But, just so you know—just so you get that I am not taking unnecessary risks—the cops on scene recognized you earlier. And I asked one for more information about you. He said you had a good reputation, that you and War were creating something strong down here. You have the endorsement of the PD. Figured that meant I could feel safe around you.”

She was one hundred percent safe with him. Odin dropped the blankets and pillow onto the floor. “I’m gonna want to hear about all the information you had on your neighbor.”

“Hearing isn’t the same as seeing the material with your own eyes. You might just think I’m making it up as I go along.”

Maybe. Maybe not. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

“A History of Bloody Murder and Madness.”

“Uh, okay.” Where was he supposed to go with that?

“It’s the name of my podcast. I research famous unsolved crimes and talk about who I think the actual killers were. You know, like say…Jack the Ripper. No one ever actually uncovered his real identity, but in my podcast, I spent four episodes talking about who I thought he was. And, of course, there is the Lizzie Borden case. Most people just take for granted that Lizzie picked up an ax and killed her parents back in the late 1800s, but what if she didn’t do it? What if someone else was behind the attack and Lizzie took the fall?”

He tried to follow along. Failed. “What do Jack the Ripper and Lizzie Borden have to do with your neighbor?”

“Nothing.” Her hands twisted in front of her. “Everything.”

Super clear answer. He frowned at her.

“Research. That’s how I got the details about Jack and Lizzie. How I found new pieces in the puzzles. When something doesn’t feel right, I can’t stop. I have to keep digging and digging. Clay—he didn’t feel right. Not from day one.”

So she thought her next door neighbor was a killer because of a feeling?

“He got the job he has after my friend Whitney Augustine vanished. She was the head of the psych department, and one day, she just didn’t show up for work. Her car was found in her driveway. Her personal belongings were still in the house, and Whitney was just…gone.”

Now he held up a hand. “Back up.”

She stared at him expectantly.

“You didn’t mention that you work with Clay Prescott.”

“Technically, I don’t. He’s psychology. I’m history. Our paths hardly ever cross but…” She shrugged. “Yes, we are at the same college.”

“And you became suspicious of him after Whitney Augustine vanished.”

“I was looking for her. Like I told you, she was my friend.” Her lips pressed together. Then… “She wouldn’t have just vanished without telling me. I mean, it’s like she just fell off the face of the earth. That doesn’t happen.”

Sometimes it did. When you were running from someone. Or something.

“There was a packed bag found in her den. A suitcase that she used for travel. Because of that bag, the cops just assumed she’d left on her own, so they didn’t spend a lot of resources looking for her.” Frustration boiled in her voice. “That made zero sense! If she was leaving, she would have taken the bag. Not left it. But they said there were no signs of foul play. The trail got cold. And everyone else seemed to move on and forget about her.”

Obviously, Maisey hadn’t forgotten. Pain was in her voice as she spoke of her friend.

“I couldn’t let it go. I started looking at her life. Trying to see if I could help her. If Whitney was in trouble, I needed to help her. And that’s when I found him.”

“Prescott?”

A quick nod. “He’d started at Dunson a few months before Whitney’s disappearance. She was the one who brought him here. They had worked together at another college before Whitney moved to this area. Only…when I looked at that other school—Plymouth South, it’s also located here in Florida—do you know what I found?”

He had no idea.

“The professor that Clay replaced there—Jenny Lynch—she also vanished.”

His shoulders stiffened. “You have my attention.”

“Right?” she exclaimed. “Because that is too big of a coincidence. This guy gets two desirable jobs because the women who’d been in those spots just vanished? Like that just randomly happens?”

Statistically, yes, that shit didn’t just happen. Not twice.

“Then I looked deeper.”

Of course, she had.

“When Clay was eighteen, he was dating a girl named Hannah Martinez. They’d been high school sweethearts. Until…a few days before graduation, Hannah disappeared.”

Fuck.

“She was never found. Just as Jenny Lynch was never found. And my friend Whitney? It’s been two months, and there has been no sign of her. I filed a missing person’s report, but I swear, I don’t think it’s gone anywhere since the first week.” Her hands had fisted. “Then Clay was promoted to Whitney’s position at the college, and he moved into the neighborhood. Right next to me. And I had the first break-in. And everything just feels…off.”

Because everything damn well was off. Three women missing, and the common denominator was Clay? Suspicious as hell.

“I know it’s circumstantial. But he has ties to the missing women. He is the only link I’ve found between them all. The cops said it wasn’t enough. I get that I need more. But you—” She inched closer. “I have you now. You can help me to find more.” Her shoulders rolled back. “Or, if I’m totally wrong, you can help me to figure that out, too. But Whitney was good to me. I can’t just forget about her. I have to try. And if he is hurting women, k-killing them,” she stammered a bit on that word, “then we have to stop him.”

Odin stared into her eyes. What was a man supposed to do when a woman looked at him with eyes like hers? All soulful, deep? Hopeful? She was staring at him like he was some kind of damn hero, when he’d been feeling like the walking dead for months.

“I’m so glad I have you.” She gave him a quick smile, one that packed the double wallop of her dimples.

Uh, yeah, when exactly was the last time someone had told him that?

“We’ll get the truth,” Odin promised. The words sounded like a vow because they were. She had faith in him. She was staring at him like he was the good guy. Asking him to save the freaking day and shit.

He’d do his best. For her.

For the friend that was missing. He’d figure out what was happening with Clay Prescott. Sure, Odin’s tactics might not be the best—he might have to twist and break more rules in order to get to the truth. But, no matter what, he would get the job done.

Maisey rocked forward onto the balls of her feet. Judging by her expression and body language, he really, really felt like another hug was coming on. That hug would be wrong for a thousand different reasons. The main reason? If she touched him again, he’d hold on—too tightly—to her.

So Odin stepped back. Tried to remove himself from temptation.

Her long eyelashes flickered at his movement.

“Get some sleep,” he ordered gruffly. “Tomorrow, we start this case.”

She swallowed. “Right. Ah…thanks, again.” She turned away. Hurried in those cute canvas sneakers toward her bedroom. When the door shut behind her with a soft click, Odin realized he’d been holding his breath.

He released it in a slow rush.

What in the hell am I doing?

***

She wasn’t sure what woke her. One minute, Maisey had been in a deep sleep. Maybe having a slightly sexual dream about a big, blond Viking type who stared at her with smoldering blue eyes as he pulled her close—

But then she was jerking awake and her heart was about to burst from her chest and Maisey opened her mouth to scream because something was wrong and her instincts were going crazy and—

“Don’t make a sound.”

Her head whipped to the right.

A big, menacing shadow loomed beside her bed.

Screw not making a sound. She sucked in a breath and prepared to give the biggest scream of her life.