Something Wicked: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense (11 page)

And that didn’t sound good at all.

Barbara’s eyes narrowed on her. “You didn’t use salt, did you?”

Alexandra blinked. “I used it to repel spirits last night. Why?”

The old woman cackled and turned away, shaking her head. It was her grandson who explained the reason.

“Salt can attracts spirits—it doesn’t always repel them.” He looked her up and down again. “How long have you been doing this?”

Oh, come on. They were yanking her chain now. Hand on her hip, she shook her head and held up a hand. “I’ve been doing this for a long time.” She’d been to conventions. Exchanged notes with others. Read lots of books. Had long conversations with the dead about these things. “I worked with a priest once who told the family being affected to place table salt around the doorways.”

Barbara’s cackle grew louder. “White salt?”

Alexandra’s smile dropped. “What else would I use?”

“Black salt repels the negative,” the grandson said. “White salt tends to attract it.”

Well…crap.

“You gotta lesson to learn.” Barbara shook a finger at her. “That’s why you’re here. You don’t know all you think you do.”

“Apparently not.” Alexandra touched the cross at her neck. White salt attracted spirits? And she’d all but bathed in it last night? Okay, that was seriously creepy. And a tidbit she’d definitely file in her mental need-to-know please-verify box. Maybe she should consult further on this with the demonologist she’d met last summer at a convention. The guy had a stellar reputation. He might be able to give her more answers.

“How much for the, um—” She held up the pouch the old woman had given her “—this stuff? And the book?” She gestured to the leather-bound edition the young man still held.

He named a price for the book that made her head swim. “That’s free or it won’t work.” He gestured to the pouch.

The beads clanked and Reedus stuck his head through. “King.” He nodded toward the way he’d come. “We need to go. Now.”

She hurried to pay for the book as Reedus stomped toward the exit. The tattooed young man behind the counter returned her gaze with a knowing smile as she handed him some cash. She grabbed her change and the book, and her boots clacked against the concrete of the sidewalk as she raced to catch up with the detective.

“Find out anything?” He opened his car door and pushed inside, leaving her to follow suit.

Oh yeah. Loads. “Not really. You?”

“Got a few names to check out. Regular customers.” He turned over the engine and then settled a blue light on his dash.

“What’s going on?” Alexandra had barely buckled herself in before she was slung toward him as the car shot out of the space.

“Looks like you’re gonna have a chance to visit a fresh crime scene today. We just got another one.”

***

Dylan took in the gruesome sight before him and ran a hand through his hair. “Geez.”

A woman hung from a noose, her limp body dangling in the white arched entryway leading into the old city jail. A person driving to work had seen the morbid picture and called it in a couple of hours ago. No one who’d been questioned so far—not even any of the residents living in the apartments across the street—had seen or heard anything suspicious.

One of the coroner’s assistants ambled up to Dylan with a clipboard. “Can we go ahead and remove the body now?”

He nodded, hardly able to say the word, as he scanned the crowd of onlookers. A lot of cops believed killers showed up at crime scenes to enjoy the results of the chaos they’d created. All Dylan recognized were a couple of reporters.

They’d just finished zipping the body bag when Reedus’s old clunker came into view as it parked down the street. Dylan blew out a breath and moved to his haunches to examine a fresh-looking set of footprints around the side of the building that one of the officers had found. He was in no hurry to see his partner because he knew Alexandra was with tagging along with Reedus today.

“Get pictures of these footprints.” He squinted up at the four-story building that rose into the sky like some kind of archaic fortress in desperate need of repair. “I spotted some fresh tire tracks on the other side of the building. Get some shots of those too.”

The officer scurried off to obey, and a familiar cough grew closer until Reedus’s gravelly voice greeted, “What have we got this time, Collins?”

Dylan narrowed his eyes against the late morning sun as he again looked up at the historic building. “Caucasian female. Early forties. Hung in that archway over there.” He straightened and turned to the two newcomers. “So far not a lot of obvious evidence.”

Reedus shielded his eyes with one hand as he glanced up at the old jail. “Don’t tell me the psycho was copycatting a death here.”

Nodding, Dylan allowed himself to glance at the woman standing a little ways behind Reedus. His heart skipped a beat. Sweet heaven. She looked as sexy as all get out, dressed in that short dress wearing those notice-me boots. He directed his thoughts away from that assessment and concentrated instead on filling his partner in on the situation.

“Lavinia Fisher would be my guess.” He turned and started walking back toward the entrance, knowing they’d follow. “I read that professor’s book last night. Did some research on the computer. This place has quite the reputation among ghosthunters. I was about to do one more walk through inside, make sure we didn’t miss anything. Place is damn creepy.”

“Fisher?” Reedus repeated the name as if he were trying to recall it.

“Supposedly the first female serial killer ever documented. She and her husband were held here until their execution in the early 1800s.”

“Let me guess. By hanging, right?” Reedus coughed into his handkerchief and tucked the small cotton sheet back into his pocket.

Dylan stopped walking and turned to face the older man. “You had that cough checked out yet?”

Reedus waved his hand and pushed past him. “Just my emphysema acting up.”

For the first time Dylan noticed Alexandra wasn’t with them anymore. He glanced around and spotted her hanging back near the sidewalk across the street, in front of where a group of curious onlookers stood behind a barricade.

Dylan swore. Didn’t she realize she was potentially in danger? Wandering off from her protection wasn’t exactly smart. Frustrating woman. She was gonna be the death of him yet.

He hurried over to where she stood. “What do you think you’re doing?”

At least she had the decency to blush. “Waiting.”

“For what?”

“For Reedus to finish so we can leave.”

He put his hands on his hips and considered her. Boy, this lady was something else. “Don’t you want to do your psychic mumbo jumbo and see if you can pick up some leads?”

He regretted the words as soon as they were out. She’d actually given him some good leads, known some facts she shouldn’t have been able to, and made him question his disbelief in psychics. He shouldn’t let his anger over her knowing Zach cloud his objective. Especially if she could contribute to solving this case.

He needed all of the help he could get.

Alexandra crossed her arms and jutted her chin forward. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”

He realized they were within hearing distance of the crowd. He grabbed her arm and tugged her forward. She dug in her heels and didn’t let him pull her very far. She might not want to be near him either, but she needed to act like a professional and help him out.

She pushed close to him, lowered her gaze to the ground, and whispered, “Dylan, I’m not going in there.”

He scrunched his face in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because it’s packed to the rafters with ghosts, and they’re waiting for me. I won’t be able to deal with it. There are too many of them. I get overwhelmed with that many. Dylan, please.”

She
was
scared. The slight tremble in her voice was echoed by her body as she pressed against his side. Well, hell. That didn’t seem like her.

He forced himself to take a step away from her. Otherwise, he was afraid he’d put his arm around her and pat her back. “Okay.” He sighed. “She appears to have been killed outside the actual jail. Can you pick up anything out here?”

“I can try.”

“That’s all I ask.” He gestured her forward. He wouldn’t push. Either she wanted to help, or she didn’t. Her choice.

She took a deep breath and took a few timid steps. Her face winced. “I don’t think she was killed here.” A few more steps. She stopped and looked around, but her eyes didn’t seem to see him or anything else. “Did she work for the government? Maybe the Department of Transportation?”

“No. She was a teacher at a local high school.”

“Okay.” Alexandra frowned and shook her head. “I don’t think she knew her killer.” She bit her bottom lip and hesitantly reached out a hand to touch the side of the entryway. “Was she stabbed? I’m feeling a stabbing pain in my stomach.” She pressed her other hand to her middle.

“There were no visible stab wounds. No blood.” He was starting to lose his patience. Was she wasting his time? He was trying hard to remain open-minded here, but she wasn’t making it easy. “Can you see where she died?”

She sucked in a breath, blew it out again slowly. Several seconds passed. “I’m seeing a parking lot. I think he followed her to her car. There wasn’t much of a struggle. It was quick. She didn’t even have a chance to process what was happening. A hand over her mouth from behind. A pain in her stomach. Then nothing.”

“Describe the parking lot.”

She closed her eyes. “It’s a garage.” She shook her head. “I keep seeing a picture of a king.”

“A king?” He shuffled on his feet. “Like wearing a crown and everything?”

She opened her eyes and looked apologetic. “I’m also seeing a big plant bowl with writing on it. I know that sounds crazy, Dylan.”

“Maybe not as crazy as you think.” He turned and called McCormick over. The young officer had been one of the first on the scene. He looked anxious to leave. “Check the Francis Marion Garage on King Street and see if we can find the victim’s car. Let me know what you find.”

Once McCormick was gone, Dylan turned to Alexandra and explained, “Marion Square is a park off King Street. There’s a fountain that kind of looks like a bowl there. Maybe that’s what you’re seeing.”

She lifted her hand to shield her eyes as she looked at him. It was unnerving, the way she considered him so closely. “Thank you for believing me.”

He wasn’t sure he did, but it was worth checking. “I need to do a walkthrough before I leave.”

“Have fun.” She glanced up at the building, then grabbed Dylan’s upper arm to keep him from moving forward. “Don’t go to the third floor. Let someone else.”

He glanced down at her hand on his arm and she released her grip.

“There’s a really mean ghost up there. Big guy. You remind him of someone he didn’t like when he was alive, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Was she serious? He glanced up at the darkened, barred windows on the third floor. A shiver ran down his spine. It was almost like he felt someone watching him now. Crazy how a suggestion like that could play tricks on the mind.

“Dylan?” Her voice cracked. When he focused on her, a timid smile lifted her mouth. “Can we talk later?”

They needed to talk, but he didn’t know if he was ready yet. He didn’t answer.

“I’ll send Reedus out. Don’t wander off, or I swear I’ll bend you over my knee next time I see you.” He emphasized the threat with a pointed finger.

He was headed up the pathway when he heard her yell, “Promise?” He almost stopped in his tracks. He imagined she was grinning, but he didn’t allow himself to turn around and make sure.

That dress. Those boots.

Crazy woman was gonna be the death of him.

“
Pssst
. Guess what?”

Alexandra glanced up at McCormick. The young officer had a huge smile on his face as he glanced furtively around while leaning against the desk she was using at the moment. “Hmm?”

“I found the car. Just like you said.”

She perked up. “Really?”

He nodded. “Collins told me you led us to it. That’s what they’re in there talking about.” He gestured to the conference room where Reedus and Dylan had disappeared with Capt. Deveraux a few minutes earlier.

“Why aren’t we in there?”

“Beats me.” He shrugged and leaned closer. “So how do you do it?”

“It?”

“You know. How do you know stuff?”

She’d be a millionaire a hundred times over if she knew the answer to that. She glanced around and gestured for him to lean closer. “Brussels sprouts.”

He jerked back to look at her. “Huh?”

“I love them. Most people hate them. I think there’s a correlation in there somewhere.”

His eyes widened until she rolled hers and shook her head to let him know she was joking. He chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“I wish I knew. Things just come to me.”

“For the record, I’m a believer.” He thumbed his chest. “One time, my older sister was in a car wreck. I was in the middle of class in high school, and I got all agitated for no reason. I knew something was wrong. I had this feeling, ya know? Afterward, when my dad picked me up from school and told me what had happened, it gave me chills. It’s like I knew. Ever since then, I try to keep an open mind about things like this.”

She smiled. “Thanks, McCormick.” She glanced around the office. “Have you seen Officer Vinson yet?”

“Nah, but I talked to him a few minutes ago. I’m gonna take your shift tonight. He’s gonna patrol his beat and see if he can’t shake down some info. When you get ready to leave for the day, let me know, okay?”

Nodding at him as he walked away, she slid a hand inside her purse and fingered the small pouch inside it. She’d realized she’d left the hoodoo concoction in Reedus’s car earlier, retrieved it and shoved it into her bag. She hadn’t seen a single ghost since. She’d actually been worried about Vinson, since she hadn’t seen the cop yet. She was glad to know he was okay. The warning from his father that he would die if he got involved still haunted her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the conference room door opening. The three men came out, but only Dylan and Reedus walked toward her.

“We found the last victim’s car. You’re good, lady.” Reedus gave her a thumbs up.

Two compliments from different cops in as many minutes? She tried not to beam beneath the praise. “And?”

“Forensics is going through the vehicle now.” Dylan sat on the edge of her desk. “They’ll let us know if anything important turns up. The captain is impressed.”

But not him? Alexandra realized his opinion mattered more than anyone else’s and felt a tiny zing of hurt at his lack of agreement.

Reedus glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a report to write up, and then I’m gonna head over and see if I can’t get a jump on the findings from the ME.” He looked at Alexandra a little sheepishly. “That means medical examiner. You wanna come? See if you get anything from the body?”

After what had happened last time she was at that place? A shudder racked her frame. No thanks.

“Alexandra knows what an ME is. Trust me.” Dylan seemed to be fighting a smile. “You wanna go see him again, Alexandra? Tell him hey?”

Jerk.

“No, thank you, Reedus. But there is something I’d like to ask you in private before you leave. Okay?”

The older man’s brow scrunched as he looked between her and Dylan. “Yeah, sure. I’ll come find you.” He tapped a knuckle on the edge of her desk as he walked past. “Good job on that car.”

Dylan said nothing for several seconds. Finally, he shifted to his feet. “We’re drowning in calls from people who’ve already heard about this last victim. I’ve got to go prepare a statement for a press conference the captain’s called for this evening.”

A perky blonde officer from a few seats over called out Alexandra’s name, followed by Dylan’s. “There’s a guy on the phone, insisting to speak with Alexandra King.” She stood up from her chair. “I think it might be the guy you’re looking for.”

Dylan swore beneath his breath. “Send the call to my desk.”

“Wait!” Alexandra grabbed his wrist before he could get far. “Let me talk to him. Maybe I can keep him on the phone.” Or pick up information in another way. “Please?”

The precinct had fallen quiet. Nervous energy hummed in the air while she waited for Dylan’s decision. He nodded. “Okay. Patch the call over here. I want it recorded. Get me this guy’s location. Reedus, Graham, follow the trace pronto.” He sat on the edge of the desk again. She felt others crowd behind her. “We’re putting it on speakerphone.”

The phone rang and Dylan snatched the receiver before she could. He hit a button and a slight buzz could be heard. Dylan pointed at her.

She leaned forward. Took a deep breath. “This is Alexandra King.”

A strong breath rasped into the phone, startling her. Dylan pressed some buttons to lower the volume as another Darth Vader breath blasted through the speaker.

She cleared her throat. Tried to sound slightly annoyed by the lack of response. “Hello?”

“What did you think of my latest kill? Good, wasn’t it?” The person’s voice was metallic, as if being distorted by some kind of device.

What was she supposed to say to that? When she hesitated, Dylan made a circling motion with his hand.
Keep talking.
She tried to block out their audience. “I’m not sure good is the word I would use. Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

“The Grim Reaper?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your real name?”

“You can call me Reaper. I like the idea of you shortening my name. It seems more intimate that way.”

The way he said that last bit sent chills up and down her spine. “Why did you call me?”

“It’s a lot easier to find a victim than it is a listener, Alexandra. I want us to be friends. I think we’ll work well together. You’re not afraid of death either, are you?”

She glanced up at Dylan. How long did he need for a trace? “You want to talk, talk. Go ahead.”

“I knew who you were as soon as I saw you, Alexandra. I’ve seen you on TV. Helping the police in other places.”

“Really? What other places?”

“Colorado. California. There are clips of it online. I’ve watched them all. I know you’re a real psychic. I can tell.”

So her biggest fan was a total nutjob serial killer? Awesome. “Have you ever used a psychic before?”

“Yes. She wasn’t real, though. I found out. I made her pay for it.”

“Made her pay how?”

Silence.

“Did you see Lavinia Fisher today? Was she pleased by my offering to her?”

“Who?” Oh yeah. That was the woman who supposedly haunted the old jail, Dylan had said.

“You know who she is. You’re stalling, trying to trace the call and find me. It won’t work.” A sound that resembled snickering followed.

“Why are you killing these innocent people?”

“Because I can.” Darth Vader breathing again. “I want you to tell me what they say to you. That’s why I was happy when I saw the police had brought you on. What did Lavinia say? Tell me.”

“I didn’t see Lavinia’s ghost today.”

“You’re lying.”

Click.

Her gaze sought Dylan’s. “Did we get him?”

He picked up a hand radio and barked, “Reedus, anything?”

Static chirped, then a response, from right behind them. “Yep. This is the phone number he called from. Look familiar?” Reedus held up a sheet of paper with ten digits written in big, black marker. Even to Alexandra, the number seemed slightly familiar.

Dylan swore and moved to his feet. Alexandra frowned as she watched him rush to his desk and pick up his cell phone. “Didn’t I have him on long enough?” she asked Reedus.

“We had a lock on his number the minute he called in. We just needed you to keep him on the line until we could get to his location.”

“Then why—?”

“The number he called from is mine,” Dylan said. “My mobile. And it’s right here.” He held it up for her to see.

“Techs say he spoofed the damn number this time,” Reedus growled. “Threw the system off.”

Dylan tossed his phone back onto his desk. “Did we get anything on his location at all?”

McCormick stepped forward and shook his head. “Sorry, sir.”

Dylan lifted a hand to the back of his neck. Shaking his head, he walked over to where some boxes sat in a corner and kicked them so hard one slammed into the water cooler and threatened to topple the thing.

Reedus walked over and put a calming hand on Dylan’s shoulder, whispered something she couldn’t hear in his ear.

Alexandra looked away. Lord, she was frustrated too.

She felt someone move closer and then heard McCormick say in a stage voice, “Anyone can use that spoofing software online. My brother-in-law did it as a prank to me last year. My phone sent a message to my entire family telling them—” A flush crept up his tanned neck as he looked down at her. “Well, it wasn’t funny.”

Alexandra had never heard of it. It made her feel inept. She was learning a lot from this case, and she’d only been here a few days.

Composed again, Dylan waited until everyone had returned to normal activity to walk back over to where she still sat. He planted his hands on the edge of the desk and asked quietly, “Did you pick up on anything during the call?”

Nothing, and that was strange. “Only that he’s seriously deranged. I’m so sorry, Dylan.”

The faint scent of his cologne enticed her senses, and she realized how much she’d missed his closeness. A shiver raced along her nerves. She wished he’d hold her. After that phone call, she needed a hug. She suspected he did too.

He pulled away. “You did good handling that. I’ve got to go take care of some things now.” He hesitated. “You okay?”

No. Not really. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

He nodded and walked away.

***

Dylan loosened the tie that’d held a death grip around his neck for the past half hour and tried not to groan when he realized at least one of the reporters had followed him inside the station after the press conference.

Stephanie Rodriguez’s high heels clicked against the tiled floor as she targeted him in her sights. Her poise carried purpose and determination. “Dylan! I want to talk to you.”

As if this day weren’t already bad enough. Now he had to deal with her, too. Freaking great.

He dropped the file he’d been carrying onto his desk and rounded on her, his gaze skirting the other desks for a glimpse of the other woman in his thoughts. He didn’t see Alexandra and figured McCormick must have already driven her back to her hotel.

Good. He didn’t need an audience for this.

“I told you everything I intend to during the press conference, Stephanie. Don’t even try it.”

She feigned hurt, coming to a sudden stop beside him and placing a perfectly manicured hand over her heart. “Dylan. I only wanted to check on you.”

“On me?” He dropped into his chair and settled at his desk. Maybe if he seemed busy, she’d leave.

She perched herself on the edge of his desk, her killer legs offering a bit of a distraction from the jumbled-up mess inside his head. “I know you haven’t been here that long, and now you’re heading up a task force? I can’t imagine what kind of pressure you’re under.”

Something in her voice seemed sincere, so he decided to take her at face value. “I’m handling it. Thanks.”

“Why don’t you let me buy you dinner?”

He arched a brow. “
You
want to buy
me
dinner?”

“We’re still friends, right? I swear you can unload on me, and I promise—Girl Scout’s honor—not to use any of it in my story.” She held up a hand, her thumb and pinky finger held down. “No ulterior motive. Besides.” She reached out and ran a finger up the back of his hand. “I’m sure you could use a break.”

For a minute, he was actually tempted. Not by her supposed gesture of friendship, but by her. She was sexy. She’d been good in bed. She had about as much interest in a long-term relationship with him as he had with her. He’d love nothing more than to sink inside a willing female body and lose himself again for a few minutes.

Problem was, wrong female.

The idea of taking any woman to bed other than Alexandra left a sour feeling in his gut. What kind of sense did that make? He barely knew the woman.

“Thanks, but I’ve got some phone calls to make. Maybe another time.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “I can take a hint.” She moved off his desk, but placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve still got my number. Call any time. Day or night. Bye, Dylan.” She winked at him, the movement of her hips accentuating a great ass as she walked away.

Oh yeah. He was an idiot.

“Eh hem.” He felt the pressure of a hand settling on the back of his chair. He turned and lifted his gaze from Stephanie’s backside to a pair of sky-blue eyes. Alexandra stood there, a knowing smirk on her beautiful face. She flapped some papers in front of him. “I got a few more impressions from looking at today’s crime scene photos. Made you some notes.”

He grabbed the papers and glanced over them. “Anything important?”

“Don’t know. Is it helpful I think the victim’s favorite food was sushi?”

His lips twitched as he looked up at her again. “Probably not.”

She shrugged and took a step away. “I’m headed out. Need anything else from me before I leave?”

“No. You’ve been here all day. Go get some rest. Relax.”

She seemed to hesitate. “When are you leaving?”

Please don’t ask me to have
that
talk before you go.
He glanced at the clock. “I’ll try to get out of here by eight. Long day. Still have plenty to do before I can head home.”

“Don’t work too hard.” She winked at him and walked away, her walk mimicking Stephanie’s exit from minutes before. When she reached McCormick’s desk and picked up her purse, she flipped her hair dramatically and sent him a sexy look over her shoulder. And winked again.