All In (The Naturals, #3)

by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Anything can be counted.

“Cassie did not come back for old fools who drink too much and talk too loud.”

But I’m not the same. I couldn’t dodge that thought. I’ve changed. The new Cassandra Hobbes had more scars—figuratively and literally.

Uncle Rio had been accusing me of hiding boyfriends from him for years. This was the first and only time he’d ever been right.

“You.” Nonna pointed a spatula—which had appeared in her hand out of nowhere—at Uncle Rio. “Out.”

“The boy who picked you up here last summer,” she said, “the one with the fancy car… He is a good kisser?”

“Ahh,” Nonna said knowingly. “His kisses, not so good.” She patted me consolingly on the shoulder. “He is young. Room for improvement!”

With my fellow Naturals, I never had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. I couldn’t have, even if I’d wanted to.

In a house full of people who saw things the rest of the world missed, it was impossible to hide.

“That boy who picked you up, he is too skinny. Maybe he will kiss better with a little meat on his bones.”

Nothing but bones.

None of us had normal childhoods.

For years, I’d believed that I was broken, that my ability to love—fiercely, determinedly, freely—had died with my mother.

we’d said no matter what instead of I love you, because she didn’t just love me—she loved me forever and ever, no matter what.

I tamped down on the grief rising up inside me. Sooner or later, it would catch up to me.

I had always been better at compartmentalizing than ridding myself of unwanted emotions altogether.

Dance it off.

Special Agent Tanner Briggs was one of the Naturals program’s two FBI supervisors. He’d been the one to recruit me, and he’d used my mother’s case to do it.

If it were Scarlett whose body had just been found, Scarlett whose necklace had just turned up, you wouldn’t sit idly by. You couldn’t—no matter the cost.

The smile on his face, the way he’s teasing Lia—Dean was healing.

He’d taken my choosing Dean like a backhanded slap.

“Too young to party, just old enough to participate in federal investigations of serial murder.” Lia let out an elaborate sigh. “Story of my life.”

But in this life, in this world, three is not enough. You can’t stop. You won’t.

OCD

The car was a classic—a convertible in deep cherry red with a style I associated with the fifties or sixties.

There were no bruises on his face, no marks on the arm resting on the back of the passenger seat. Michael’s eyes lingered on my face, just for an instant. “Don’t worry, Colorado,” he told me, a sharp smile pulling at the edges of his lips. “I’m all in one piece.”

Her lips moved rapidly as she rattled off the digits of pi under her breath.

his hand coming to rest on his thigh, daring the concierge to let his gaze drop. “I do hope the suite has elevator access,” Michael said.

Belatedly, she remembered to smile at him—the same painfully large smile she’d been practicing on the plane.

“He’s my brother,”

Sloane’s mother wasn’t her father’s wife. Her father owns this casino. Her half brother doesn’t even know she’s alive.

Looking at her, I couldn’t keep from wondering how many times Sloane had been told, growing up, that she was a secret. I wondered how many times she’d watched Aaron or his father from afar.

I wanted to remind her that here, with us, that was a good thing.

Judd walked into the kitchen and started a cup of coffee. He’d known Agent Sterling since she was a kid.

“I may have led them to believe Judd was my butler.” That got nothing more than a slight eyebrow raise out of Judd, who poured himself a cup of coffee without responding.

“That’s everything we have on the developments in your mother’s case,”

Forever and ever, no matter what.

“I think our UNSUB likes a challenge,” Dean answered quietly. Just like Thomas Wesley.

POIs

*person of interest*

You like trying different people’s skin on for size. You’re fascinated by the way the mind works, the way it breaks, the way people survive things no one should be able to survive.

she’d been at the party where Alexandra was killed. That meant she was present at a minimum of two of the three murders.

“Your brains need time to process,” he said gruffly. “And your stomachs need food.” We objected. That didn’t go well for us.

I’d wanted to see the files—needed to see them—but now that I held the answers in my hand, I was paralyzed.

was supposed to kill her, Locke continued in my memory, manic with the desire to have been the one to end my mother’s life. I was supposed to be the one.

You make him pay because you can. You make him pay because at least then you’re worth something.

Dean didn’t touch me, but I could feel the warmth of his body. I wanted to turn toward him, toward that warmth.

“You’re good at being there for people,” Dean murmured behind me. “But you don’t have much practice at letting people be there for you.” He was profiling me. I let him.

Finally, I turned toward him. Brown eyes held mine.

I leaned into Dean’s touch. I closed my eyes, and the words finally came.

Get it under control, Cassie. If you feel it, he’ll see it. So don’t feel it.

I’m angry. I’m angry that the police found a body and angry that it took them five years to find it. I’m angry about what your father did to