Die for Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (27 page)

Ben. He’d helped her at the diner. He’d held her hand in the ambulance.

“Thank you,” Katherine whispered. Her body had tensed at the sight of the flowers. Not roses, no, but she couldn’t look at any flowers without remembering Valentine. Couldn’t enjoy the scent or the sight.

For her, flowers were too tied to Valentine. Maybe one day it would be different but…Katherine couldn’t even bring herself to reach out and take the tulips.

His head inclined toward her. “I wasn’t about to let anything happen to you.” He gave her a small smile. “You can count on me.” Then he carefully put the tulips on the small table near the bed.

Tears threatened to fill her eyes. When she hadn’t been looking, she’d found friends.

“This is my daughter,” Harley said as he glanced toward Maggie. “She called the station, and you can believe we all busted ass getting to you.”

Katherine’s gaze slid to Dane.

“I couldn’t get here fast enough,” he muttered.

“Who gave you the drink?” Harley asked her. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Bits and pieces.” Tiny pieces. “I spilled my first drink, and I think the waitress brought the second one to me.”

Harley exchanged a hard look with Dane. “We’ve got techs searching that whole café, but so far, the only traces of fentanyl or any other drugs we can find were just in your cup.”

“That café was packed,” Maggie whispered. “So many people…”

“And some of them slipped out before we could secure the scene. The cops got as many contacts as they could, and they’re interviewing all those that they were able to hold at the café. We
will
figure out who drugged you.” Harley was adamant.

“But in the meantime, what?” Katherine asked. She pulled the thin hospital sheets up higher. “Dane wants me to leave, but I am so tired of running. Exhausted.”

Another rap at her door. She looked up, expecting to see the uniform showing Ross inside next. With the marshal, it would be quite the little party.

But Ross wasn’t there. It was the uniform, his face grim. “Flowers,” he said, his voice tight.

Not just any flowers. He was holding roses in his hands.

The monitors started to beep frantically once more.

“Nurse just brought them,” the cop said. “I thought—”

“Captain, stay with her,” Dane snapped as he rushed from the room.

And Katherine realized that Valentine wasn’t ever going to stop his games. Not until she was dead.

Or he was.

“Katherine?” Ben hadn’t moved. Maggie stood by him, looking nervous.

She didn’t blame her.

The sweet scent of the roses made the whole room smell of death. Nausea twisted in Katherine’s stomach. “You should go,”
she managed to say to Ben and Maggie. “Please, you need to stay away from me.”

Maggie edged back. As a police captain’s daughter, she would understand just how dangerous the world could be.

Ben’s heavy brows lowered.

But Harley pushed them toward the door, even as he yanked out his cell and started barking orders for others to come to the hospital room.

And the uniform kept standing there, holding the flowers.

Bloodred.

“How many are there?” Katherine asked.

The uniform blinked.

“Count the roses,” Harley snapped at him.

“Eleven, sir.”

Eleven. That meant one was saved, as it always was, for the victim’s hand.

“I want you to pack your bags,” Dane said as he opened the passenger-side door for Katherine. “We’re going into your house, getting what you need, and then getting you the hell out of here.”

The fucking flowers.
The bastard had actually been ballsy enough to send them to the hospital. The nurse had told him that a flower delivery boy gave them to her, and the surveillance videos verified it. The videos had verified a fucking ton of rose deliveries. For Valentine’s Day, what else were people going to send? Roses. Every damn place. In nearly every room at that hospital.

After some hard digging, they’d tracked the delivery back to an overworked florist on Chartres. The florist had the order in his books—along with more than two hundred other orders for a dozen roses—but that particular charge had been an Internet order, one that used a stolen credit card. Their techs at the office were trying to follow the IP address for that order, but so far, hell, they had nothing.

And I want Katherine out of here.

“He’s going to follow me,” Katherine said. “He’ll
always
follow me.”

She was too pale. She’d nearly died. He couldn’t get the image of her still body out of his mind. “He’s making mistakes. Going into the diner, using the florist—we’re so damn close to having
him.” His fingers curled over her shoulders. “I just want some time, Katherine. Time when I can focus on the case because I know you’re safe.”

“And I don’t want anyone else dead because of me!”

He pulled her toward the house. A cop was at her door. His orders. He wanted Katherine watched constantly. “It’s not you. It’s that twisted freak of a killer.” How many times did he have to say the words?

“It’s easy to say when the blood isn’t on your hands.”

He caught her right hand. Small. Smooth. “There is no blood here. It’s all on him.”

She pressed her lips together and slipped into the house. He followed her, staying as close as a shadow as she went toward the stairs.

He wanted to be near her constantly now. She’d come too close to death, and he’d seen his worst nightmare.

The stairs squeaked softly as they climbed, and then they were in Katherine’s bedroom. The bedroom smelled of her. Sweet. Light.

He knew the worry wouldn’t stop when she left with Ross. If he couldn’t see her, then Dane knew he’d still be frantic. He’d only feel secure if he could keep an eye on her twenty-four seven.

Twenty-four seven.

Understanding hit him instantly. Dane wanted to keep a constant watch on Katherine so he could keep her safe.

Valentine…Valentine would want to keep a constant eye on her, too.

While Katherine was in her closet, he yanked out his crime-scene gloves. Carefully put them on.

He began to walk around the room, looking carefully in each corner, near each window.

“What are you doing?” Katherine asked.

He glanced over his shoulder. She stood in the doorway of her closet, frowning at him.

Cops had been in her house. Dozens of them. But they had been intent on keeping the killer
out.
Dane realized that the guy was already in. “He said he was watching you.”

She nodded. Her right hand had a white-knuckled grip on a small overnight bag.

“He’s obsessed, so he’d want to be near you all the time.” He kept up his slow search, letting his gaze slide carefully over every inch of the room. “And he told you to stay away from me.”

“Yes.”

Was it because the bastard knew that Dane had been intimate with Katherine? Was that what had made the guy snap and attack her?

If the man knew that, then he’d been watching, all right. Watching with a view that let him see straight into Katherine’s bedroom.

The techs had been over her house so carefully, they wouldn’t have missed a small camera or even a bug. Not if one were hidden in the obvious spots that most of that team would have checked.

Not obvious, but…

I know you’re watching.

His gaze locked on the security box on her far right wall. The green light shone, indicating the system was set. “Who installed your security system?”

“A…uh, a local company. Joe at the café, he suggested them.”

Fuck. Mac had let Joe walk from the station. The guy had undergone grilling for hours, but he’d sworn he had nothing to do with hurting Katherine. The café owner’s lawyers had pushed for him to be either charged or released.

They hadn’t possessed any evidence to charge him.

Dane’s gaze was on that security box. “Ross didn’t handle it?” The guy should have.

“He checked them out. Said they were clear.”

The box was bothering him. It was bigger than the box he’d seen in her den, bigger by at least four inches. And it was positioned at a direct angle to her bed and to the entrance to her bathroom.

He stepped a little closer to the box, eyes narrowing.

Sonofabitch.
There was a small hole in the front of that box. And what sure as shit looked like a tiny camera lens peeking out at him.

He turned and headed toward Katherine. “Bring the bag, and let’s go.”

“But—”

He put his mouth near her ear. It probably looked like they were kissing, but he needed her to hear his whisper. “Don’t say anything else. He’s watching us.”

A tremble shook her body, but she nodded.

The sick prick had truly been watching her all along. But Dane wasn’t about to run over there and grab the camera. It was transmitting. If Valentine saw that they were on to him, the man would run.

But if they could trace that transmission back without alerting Valentine…

Got you.

He pulled away from her. “Let’s go.”

Katherine nodded. Her features were clear, showing no fear or anger. The woman really was a pretty fine actress. She hurried across the room, still clutching her bag, and hurriedly packed some clothes. She reached into her nightstand and pulled out—

“I won’t be coming back for a while, will I?” Katherine asked.

He shook his head.

That woman had just slipped a gun into her bag. Damn but he could love her.

Could?

“Then I’ll try to be as prepared as possible.”

Hell yes.

They left the house and went back to Dane’s car. As soon as their doors shut, he was on the line with his captain. “Harley, get a tech team working on Katherine’s house ASAP. The bastard’s been watching her. He’s got a camera in her bedroom.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Katherine’s hands clench in her lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said to the captain. “I’m thinking we can trace the path of the signal.
Find
him. Stop him.”

Then Katherine could have her life back.

They were close. So fucking close. Valentine had screwed up. Left them a trail of bread crumbs to follow. This was the break they’d needed. This. Was. It. The techs hadn’t thought to check the security box—hell, it was the one thing most folks would assume was safe. Ross might have cleared the security company, but Dane didn’t think the guy had actually gone into Katherine’s bedroom. He hadn’t
seen
the box.

But all the while, Valentine had been seeing Katherine.

No more.

The techs were in a van, one with the big label of a local cable company plastered on the side. Dane crouched in that van, with Katherine seated close by.

John Baylor, the tech guru at the New Orleans PD, was typing furiously on his laptop. “It’s a short-range transmission.”

Unfortunately, that was exactly what Dane had feared.

“Short-range?” Katherine repeated.

“No more than a mile, maybe two, tops,” John said without looking up from his computer.

Katherine glanced at Dane. “He’s been less than two miles away from me? This whole time?”

Dane wasn’t sure just how long he’d been there. “When did you get your security system installed?”

“A year ago.”

Fuck.

Harley was down at the security office, questioning the manager and every person who worked there.

“Almost got the bastard…he put up some red herrings, bouncing it, but I almost…” John slapped the keyboard. “
Got you.
”

Yes.
“Where?” Dane demanded.

“Five blocks away.”

“Five blocks?” Katherine’s voice had risen a few notches.

Dane yanked out his phone and got the captain instantly. “We’re moving.”

“Five-two-oh-seven Oakland Way,” John said. He was smiling.

Dane was too tense to smile. He wanted in that house. Wanted to bust his way inside
now.
But he knew the way this had to be handled. He gave the captain the address.

“Don’t move until I’m there,” Harley ordered. “I’m sending you backup. We go in right, and we take him
down.
”

Dane shoved the phone into his pocket. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Katherine’s. “It’s almost over,” he promised her.

But a faint line was etched between her brows. “Five blocks? I-I thought I was safe, and he was just
five
blocks away.”

“Pretty soon he’s gonna be in a cage, and he won’t ever hurt anyone again.” With all of his kills, the bastard could get a needle shoved into his arm, or he could fry in the chair. Then Katherine’s nightmare would really be over.

Katherine grabbed his arm. Held tight. “Be careful.”

He always was.

She shook her head. “Don’t be cocky. Be
careful.
Valentine is smart, and he won’t go down without a fight.”

Good. Because Dane was more than ready for the battle.