Die for Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (8 page)

Mac shoved a newspaper into Dane’s chest as he pushed into the condo. “Another damn leak, that’s what hap—” Mac broke off as his gaze centered on Katherine—Katherine who looked sleep-tousled and sexy and seemed only to be wearing Dane’s shirt.
’Cause she pretty much was.

“I—uh…didn’t expect that,” Mac muttered.

Katherine leapt to her feet. “I didn’t have anything else to wear.”

Dane slammed the front door shut behind his partner.

Mac was looking at the table. The remains of breakfast. He fired a quick glance at Dane. “You cooked?”

Dane glared at him, but then his gaze dropped to the paper. To the headline that screamed at him:

V
ALENTINE
K
ILLER
L
EAVES
G
RISLY
G
IFT.

Shit.

He scanned the article as his heart raced. This was the last thing he wanted. Didn’t the press get it? The city didn’t need to be in a panic. Panic just made it harder for the cops to do their job.

The reporter hadn’t revealed Katherine’s identity, and he could only hope it was because the reporter didn’t know who she really was. But someone had sure gone to the press fast with this big reveal.

Too fast. The captain was gonna be spitting nails.

“The press doesn’t know who she is,” Mac said as he inclined his head toward Katherine, “but I think it’s safe enough to say that our killer certainly does.”

She stood behind her chair, her fingers curved over its back. Dane saw her knuckles whiten.

“Is he a copycat?” Mac asked her. “Or the real deal?”

Katherine’s eyes widened in surprise. “A copycat?”

“How many people in New Orleans know who you really are?” Mac pressed. “We’re gonna need all the names. Maybe someone got close to you
because
of who you really are. Maybe that person is killing—”

Katherine started to laugh. But the sound was cold and hollow. “What? You think I can only attract killers?”

Dane winced. Mac had never been a smooth one with the ladies.

Then Katherine shook her head. “You two know my identity. Ross knows. And my ex-shrink knows.” She shrugged. “No one else. When you’ve got a past like mine, you aren’t exactly eager to share it with the world.”

Dane folded the newspaper and advanced toward her. “What about the boyfriend? He doesn’t know?”

“I didn’t want him to know.” Her lips pressed together. “When you’re dating, you don’t always want your significant other to look at you like you’re some kind of freak.”

He sure wasn’t looking at her like that.

“This isn’t a copycat,” Katherine said. “The cuts on the victim’s arms…the
roses…
only Valentine knew that.”

Dane knew his whole body had tensed. “What about the roses?” There had been eleven left at Katherine’s house last night.

“Roses were my favorite,” she whispered. “Valentine knew that. What I didn’t know until after was that he gave me roses when he made a kill.”

His heart was beating faster. Another bit of evidence that had never made the news. More confirmation that this was no copycat. It was the real fucking deal.

“It looked like a dozen…” Her lips twisted in a humorless smile. “When you see a bunch of flowers, how many people actually count to see if twelve are there? I count now, I always do.”

Mac swore, obviously realizing, just as Dane did, where this was going.

“Eleven for me. One for his victim. And the roses came in perfect time with his kills.” She raked a hand through her tousled hair. “When I found Stephanie that last day—he already had the roses waiting on the table for me.”

And roses had been waiting for Katherine last night.

Real. Fucking. Deal.

“I’m…ah…going to get dressed now.” She backed out of the kitchen with uncertain steps. “Do you know when I’ll be able to go home again?”

Mac glanced at Dane. Dane opened his mouth to respond, but it was Mac who said, “I’m afraid we need you to come down to the station, ma’am.”

Her face fell. “Right.” Almost whisper quiet. “Of course you do.” Then she turned away and slipped into the bedroom. The door closed with a soft squeak behind her.

Dane sighed and glanced over at Mac—and he found his partner glaring at him. “What?”

“Did you screw her?” Mac’s voice was hushed. “Dammit, man, we
need
her!”

And Mac
needed
to watch that tone. Dane closed in on him. “I kept her safe for the night. I kept my eyes on her.” Just like he was supposed to do. The captain had given him orders that Katherine wasn’t to slip town, so he’d made sure that he was between her and any exit door.

“But did you keep your hands off her?” Mac tossed at him. “She was wearing your shirt! And it sure looked like you were having a cozy breakfast for two!”

Dane’s back teeth locked. “Sorry—should I have put her in handcuffs?”

Mac swore. “Knowing you, that would have been foreplay.” Snapped but quiet.

Dane glared at him. “Watch it.”

Mac exhaled and rubbed a hand over his tired face. “I’m just saying we
need
her.” Mac glanced toward the closed bedroom door. “We need to stay on that woman’s very good side until we can figure out our plan of attack.”

Dane already had a plan of attack. Find the killer. Lock him up. Make sure the jerk never hurt another woman again.

Simple enough.

“Some FBI profiler is flying in. Captain told him about Katherine, and the guy wants to talk to her.”

Dane nodded. He’d make sure he was there for those questions. Actually, until the case was closed, he planned to stay as close as possible to Katherine.

He’d learn all of her secrets, and he’d use those secrets to catch Valentine.

So she’d spent the night with the cop.

Katherine walked out of the entrance to the building that housed the detective’s condo. She was wearing the same wrinkled dress she’d worn the night before, and looking for all the world like she’d spent hours screwing.

She didn’t deserve to be special. She didn’t deserve the attention she’d gotten.

Katherine was weak, pathetic, so easily dominated by her fear.

She should die like the others. Crying. Helpless. In agony. She
would
die that way.

It just wasn’t her time…not yet.

Someone else had already been selected to be the next kill. A woman with hair as dark as Katherine’s. A woman with a smile as lying. A woman who also deserved the pain that she had coming.

Katherine could wait a while. She could enjoy the time with her new lover—because that time would be fleeting. One more kill, then Katherine would get to face the knife.

No escape this time, Kat. You won’t be so lucky anymore.

The bull pen quieted the minute Katherine walked in. It wasn’t even one of those gradual hushes that can happen as folks elbow each other and point to an object of attention. It was just utter and complete silence.

Katherine stiffened beside Dane, and his hold automatically tightened on her arm. She wasn’t showing any fear, but he could feel the slight tremble that shook her body.

“What the hell?” he snapped at the cops in the bull pen. “I know you bozos have cases to work.”

And, of course, everyone started talking again and trying to look busy, when really their attention was totally on Katherine.

“It’s okay,” she said, giving Dane a weak smile. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been the freak in the room.”

“You’re
not
a freak.” She was beautiful. Fragile. And in a body-hugging dress that showed all of her perfect curves.

She also had a spine that he was coming to realize was pure steel. Because she was already pulling away from him and glancing around the bull pen.

“Where do I head for interrogation?” Katherine asked.

Before he could respond, Dane saw a familiar face across the bull pen.

“Oh, now it’s a party,” Katherine said. “But I did expect him to show sooner.”

The U.S. marshal had beaten them to the station and was storming across the big room. In seconds Anthony Ross was in front of them, and he grabbed for Katherine’s wrist. “You should have called me.” His voice burned with censure and heat. “I would have come to you immediately.”

Dane put a hand on the guy’s shoulder. “You’re gonna need to ease back and watch that tone.”

Ross blinked at him. “What?”

“I said back the hell off.” He didn’t want the marshal messing up
his
case.

Frowning, Ross released Katherine and backed up.

“Anthony…” Katherine sighed out his name. “Detective Black was already at the scene when I found the…” She cleared her throat. “He was there. He called in backup, and he made sure I was safe last night.”

Ross’s green gaze narrowed. “And just why was the cop there?”

Dane didn’t like that suspicious tone. “Because she’s tied to my case, and someone needed to keep an eye on her,” he said, casting a disdainful glance Ross’s way. “Since you weren’t doing your job, Marshal, I thought I’d step in.”

“I gave her a new identity,” Ross said through gritted teeth. A muscle jerked in his jaw. “A new name, a new home. I got her away from Boston.”

“But you didn’t keep that identity secret, did you?” And that was why they had a dead body in the morgue. “Someone screwed up—either you or someone in your department—and the killer found her again.”

Ross’s angry gaze slanted back to Katherine. Dane knew every cop in the area was straining to hear as Ross said, “Kat, I can have
you out of this town within the hour. No one will follow you. You don’t have to worry about Valentine.”

That would pretty much wreck Dane’s plans. Katherine was bait for Valentine, and if they were going to lure the guy in, then they needed her.

Dane saw the captain heading toward them. The guy needed to move faster. Dane knew the last thing that Harley wanted was for the marshal to spirit Katherine away.

Then Katherine said, voice firm, “I told you already, Ross. I’m
not
leaving.” Her shoulders were tense. “If I can stop more women from dying, then I’m doing it. I’ve got enough blood on my hands.”

Hell yes.
Spine of steel.
Beneath skin of silk.

Dane bared his teeth in a tiger’s smile for Ross. “Guess that means you’re out of your jurisdiction, then. If a witness doesn’t want protection from your department…”

“Do you want her dead?” Ross snapped at him. “Are you so eager to close this case that you’d risk her life?”

The bastard had just pushed too far.
Dane stepped forward.

But then Katherine said, “It’s my life to risk.” She pointed toward the open interrogation room. “I suppose that’s my space? Excuse me, gentlemen.” She walked by them, her chin held high. “You can finish your little argument without me.”

Mac smothered a laugh as he hurried over and followed her inside the room. He shut the door, sealing them both inside.

Dane was going to join them, but first, hell yeah, he’d finish this “little argument.” He locked eyes with the marshal. “This isn’t a pissing contest.”

Ross didn’t blink. “Good. ’Cause I don’t need to piss.”

Dane almost smiled. Under other circumstances, he might like the guy. Maybe. “That woman can help me find the killer.”

“That
woman
is living on nerves and fear. She can’t help you.”

How could the guy not know her at all? Ross had been working with her for three years, but Dane felt like he knew Katherine so much better than the marshal did after just a day.

“You’re just making her a target,” Ross continued, his voice roughening, “and I’m the one who’ll have to bury her body.” His lips twisted. “Because there’s no one else left. She’s already lost everyone else who cared about her. Valentine made sure she had no one.”

Dane frowned. He hadn’t realized how truly alone Katherine was.

“He isolated her. He used her. And, eventually,” Ross said, with a sad shake of his head, “he would have killed her.”

Dane started to respond.

“I’m afraid you’re wrong, Marshal,” a new voice said. It was a slightly nasal voice, one belonging to a thin man who’d followed Harley across the room. The guy was in his late twenties, with curly brown hair, and he wore a rumpled, dark gray suit.

“Aw, hell, now the head case expert is here,” Ross muttered as he ran a rough hand through his close-cropped hair.

The newcomer frowned at him. “Nice to see you again, too, Marshal.”

“Captain.” Dane jerked his head in a nod, ready for the intro with this guy. But he already had a pretty good idea who’d just joined their little party.

“This is FBI agent Marcus Wayne,” Harley said with a wave of his hand. “He flew down—”

“As soon as I heard the details of Savannah Slater’s death,” Marcus cut in, speaking quickly. “I wanted to be on-scene immediately.”

Wasn’t that grand. “Are the feds taking over?” Dane bluntly asked his captain.

The lines near Harley’s thin lips deepened. “This is
our
case. No state lines have been crossed, no multiple homicides. As far as I’m concerned, we’re looking at a simple murder. Twisted, brutal, but
ours.
”