Something Wicked: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense (5 page)

Dylan straightened from his position leaning against the table. “Let them in?” His voice was skeptical again.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Not literally. I don’t ever allow them to take over my body. Now shut up so I can think for a minute.”

He crossed his arms, but said nothing else. Man, he was sexy when he did that. All brooding and hot.

Focus on the case, not on Mr. Delicious.

Alexandra closed her eyes and thought of the wall she’d erected in her head. She cracked it open and felt an electric jolt course through her veins like liquid fire. The word COPYCAT flashed in her mind along with DEATH over and over again. Several scenes from various, violent slasher films played in her head, and she felt pleasure at seeing them.

This guy must really love horror movies.

She could feel warm breath tease her ear as a woman’s voice whispered, “He’s always been fascinated by death. He’s fascinated by this city. It called to him, and he came. There was another…another he killed, just to see if he could actually do it.”

Her eyes opened, but she saw no one standing at her side. Clearing her throat, she repeated everything for Dylan’s sake.

“Copycat?” He sat down on the edge of the table. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m just telling you what I’m getting. I don’t understand it either.”

“Go on.”

She took a deep breath and paced along the length of the conference table. Nothing else was coming to her. The voice was gone, and so were the images. Slowly she completely lifted the wall.

Candice, you can trust me. I want to talk to you about your death. Will you help me catch your killer?

She spun at the end of the table and turned to pace the other way. The feeling of almost colliding with someone standing in front of her caused her to correct herself and step back. She lifted her gaze as her hands instinctively reached out to grab hold of the person she’d bumped into.

Candice Christopher was even more beautiful in death than she’d been in the college honors portrait attached to her file. Her long, red hair was pulled back from her face, and Alexandra recognized the clothes the younger woman wore as the same from the crime scene photos. The same clothes she’d been wearing at the café.

Okay. Here we go.

“What happened to me?” Candice’s voice trembled.

Alexandra wished Dylan weren’t in the room, because she never liked to converse with the dead with skeptics present. But this time, she made an exception.

“I’m so sorry. You’re dead.”

Candice’s eyes lowered to the floor, and she nodded. “Yes. That’s what I thought.”

“Excuse me? I’m what? ” Dylan said, and Alexandra shot him an impatient look along with a forceful “Shhhhh.” Didn’t he realize she wasn’t talking to him? Geez.

“I’m trying to help find the person who did this to you,” Alexandra said more gently to the ghost. “Can you tell me what you remember? Can you show me?”

Candice’s unblinking eyes fixated on Alexandra’s, and she nodded.

A flash of bright light temporarily blinded Alexandra, and she blinked her vision back into focus. The daylight was fading, the glow of orange glistening on the gray-blue ocean water just beyond the railing. Candice laughed over the backdrop of old beach music. A singer whined out the melody of “Good Vibrations” by the Beach Boys, and Alexandra turned to see a live band of young people playing on a makeshift stage while dancers whirled around her. She spun in a full circle and recognized that she was on a pier.

“I’ve really got to get home,” Candice told someone, drawing Alexandra’s attention back to her. “I’ll call you later.”

With a wave toward a group of three women, Candice began walking down the long dock, her flip flops making a distinct whack-whack sound against the wood. Alexandra followed, even though she knew her feet weren’t moving. On and on the young woman walked, as if the pier kept on for miles instead of the thousand or so feet it probably was, the music growing more and more distant.

Candice reached the end of the pier, which felt deserted and bereft. Her flip flops quieted when she stepped on sand. She turned suddenly at the sound of an animal’s whining. She bent and moved closer to the underbelly of the pier. The daylight had faded so much by now that only shadows could be seen.

Candice clicked her tongue several times. “Puppy?”

The whining continued, luring Candice deeper into the darkness as she cooed and pleaded for the unseen animal not to be afraid. The hair on the back of Alexandra’s neck suddenly lifted as goosebumps chased each other down her arms. She wanted to yell at Candice not to move any closer, but it was too late.

Candice disappeared into the shadows, and Alexandra followed. A pair of gloved hands snaked out of the shadows and snatched the young woman by her shoulders, dragging her further under the dock. Candice’s screams mingled with the howling horn and throbbing percussions in the distance as she fought against her attacker. She tore away from him and ran, sloshing through the surf beneath the pier, but the killer was fast and tackled her at the water’s edge. Alexandra watched in horror as the dark-clad shape of a man plunged a hypodermic needle into her arm from behind and injected something into her system. Candice continued to claw her way toward the water, her movements slowing until eventually her head lowered into the ebb and flow of the ocean’s edge. A bubble broke the surface, and then she went completely still.

“Alexandra!”

Alexandra felt a cough tear through her chest, and she realized she was clutching her throat with one hand and her chest with the other. Why couldn’t she breathe? Dylan had both hands on her shoulder and was shaking her, hard.

“Alexandra! Are you okay?”

She struggled to pull air into of her lungs and whispered “Yes,” feeling more than a little disoriented to see the plain beige walls of the conference room instead of the ocean and sand.

“What the hell was that about?” Dylan’s fingers gripped into her upper arms. He tried to push her into a chair, but she resisted.

“I know how she was killed, and where.”

He narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Leaving no detail unmentioned, she explained everything she’d just witnessed. Dylan finally let his hands fall away from her.

He swore and turned on his heels.

“What?” she demanded. “You don’t believe me?”

He placed his hands on his hips and spun back toward her. “That matches information I haven’t had time to put in her file yet. She was last seen at Folly Beach Pier, but her car was found a block away from the cemetery, about half an hour away from the pier. A witness told us they saw her driving away, but maybe…” His voice trailed off.

“Maybe they saw her car, but not her.” Alexandra stepped closer. “She was killed at that pier, Dylan. I know it.”

He nodded. “It would explain the ocean water in her lungs.”

“So you believe me?”

He stared at her for several seconds. “I’m keeping an open mind.”

Happiness rushed through Alexandra at his hard-earned admission, although she didn’t know why. It was always a high when someone came to appreciate her abilities, but she’d never felt so excited about it. Why did she care so much what this man thought of her? She barely knew him. Except in the Biblical sense.

There was a knock on the door, distracting Alexandra from her inappropriate thoughts. A uniformed officer opened the door and gestured at Dylan. “There’s a call for you, Collins. Person insists you’ll want to talk to him about the Christopher case. He refuses to leave a message. You want to take it, or—?”

“I’ll take it. Transfer it to my desk.” He told Alexandra, “Excuse me for a minute.” And then he left her alone.

***

Dylan made it to his desk before the first ring. Snatching up the receiver, he barked, “Detective Collins. I understand you have some information about a case I’m working on?”

Heavy breathing was the only response.

“Hello?” Sinking into his chair, Dylan lifted his hand and rubbed at his forehead. He was tired. Damn tired. He was grateful it was almost six o’clock, and that Alexandra would be leaving soon for the day. He hoped. The woman was a major distraction on multiple levels, and he could use some distance right about now. Distance to regroup and think. And sleep. Man, he hoped he could sneak in a nap after a quick bite to eat. “Hello? Anyone there?”

“I’m here,” a raspy voice responded softly. A man’s voice. Distorted.

Dylan waited for more, but the heavy breathing was all he got. “Look, I’m pretty busy at the moment. Do you have information to share, or can I transfer you back to our front desk so you can be redirected to the right person?”

“I’m calling you about the Grim Reaper.”

Every cell in Dylan’s body snapped to alert. The Grim Reaper info hadn’t been released to the public. “I’m listening.”

“Are you, Detective Collins? Or are you too busy playing with your new girlfriend to appreciate my offerings?”

“Who is this?”

A sinister laugh trickled down the line. “None other than the Reaper himself, of course. I wanted to let you know how pleased I am that you brought in Alexandra King so soon. It pleases me very much.”

Dylan looked around and spotted Reedus. He lifted his arm and snapped his fingers, then gestured to the phone. When Reedus got close enough, Dylan wrote on a piece of paper,
This might be our killer. Get me a trace.
He leaned closer to the phone and said, “Who?”

“I recognized her last night, when you met in the bar. Tell me, detective, is that how you pay your consultants? By sleeping with them?”

Dylan stifled a curse. Whoever this guy was, he knew a lot of information.

“Who says she’s a consultant?”

“I don’t have time for games. I have one demand to make, and then I have to hang up.”

“Okay. I’ll bite. What?”

“Release my name to the media. I want to see my name on the news by tomorrow. If I don’t, you won’t be pleased with the results.”

A click preceded a dial tone, and Dylan swore. “Did we get a trace?” He directed the comment at no one in particular, but Reedus lowered the phone receiver in his hand and shook his head from across the room. He slammed his phone down.

“He was using an unregistered mobile, one of those prepaid ones.” Reedus coughed as he hurried over. “We didn’t have him on long enough to triangulate the call.”

This guy was smart. Too smart.

How the devil had the caller known so much about Alexandra? Was she an accomplice to this whole thing? How else had the caller known who she was?

He swore again.

His gut told him she wasn’t involved, but he’d have to run a more thorough background check after this. Where had she been at the time of the first murder? And if she wasn’t an accomplice, then she was a potential target.

And neither scenario pleased him.

Alexandra heard the buzz of her phone vibrating against the table and pulled her purse close to find it. Oh, man. Probably Hannah. She’d forgotten to check in with Hannah that morning, but when she glanced at the caller ID and saw a photo of Dylan’s older brother on the screen instead, she immediately jerked her wide eyes toward the door.

What the heck was Zach calling her for? Now?

“Hey, boss,” she answered and paced toward the other end of the room, never mind she was alone, the door was closed, and no one could hear her conversation anyway. “This is not really a good time.”

“It’s important, Alexandra.”

“Ohhh-kay. What’s up?”

“I hope you can tell me.” His voice sounded tense. Almost accusing.

Crap. He’d figured out where she was and what she was doing. Or someone had told him. Probably Abbot, that devious cat, or Costello, Hannah’s dog who was allegedly too dumb to keep a secret. Maybe it had been Charlie, Hannah’s youngest pup, who adored Zach something fierce. It sucked having a pet psychic around when you were trying to—

“Something’s going on with Hannah,” Zach continued before she could finish the thought. “She’s acting kind of secretive. What do you know, King? Spill it.”

Oh. Ohhh.

Crap.

She crossed her fingers behind her back and flat-out lied to the man. “I don’t know. What do you mean?” She gave a quick look toward the door. Still closed.

“She excused herself last night to call someone, and now she’s having a hard time looking me in the eyes.” He made an annoyed sound. “What’s going on, Alexandra? Before you answer, remember I sign your damn paychecks.”

He made a good point, but Hannah and Hannah’s best friend, Sarah, had welcomed Alexandra into their girls club with open arms. She’d never had two better friends in her life. Where did her loyalty lie? With the guy who’d gotten her fired from his TV show because he’d felt threatened by her since he hadn’t yet realized his own abilities? Granted, he had made amends by giving her a job at his new firm.

She resisted a snort. No contest.

She uncrossed her fingers and began pacing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Collins. Why don’t you ask the boys?”

The boys was how everyone referenced Hannah’s pets because they were practically the woman’s children. Alexandra suspected Zach was an empath—a rarity among psychics—but his abilities seemed especially sensitive to animals. He’d proven he could communicate with Hannah’s animals time and time again.

“I have,” he bit out. “They’re not telling me and that makes me even more suspicious.” He lowered his voice. “I gave Abbott extra tuna, but all he said was ‘Maybe I know something. Maybe I don’t.’ I mean, what the hell?”

Alexandra bit her lip to keep from snickering. Hannah had said she was going to give Abbott extra tuna for a few days to assure his loyalty, and the cat and Zach had a tumultuous relationship anyway. Abbott probably spent his days planning how to get more tuna from Zach.

Under normal circumstance she would have never suggested this, but…

“Have you tried reading Hannah then?” Oh, this was too much fun. Alexandra had been teaching Hannah how to block Zach from picking up on her feelings, and Hannah was good at it.

“Of course I have. Why do you think I’m calling you? I’m not getting anything, except for a wall. Maybe I’m doing something wrong?”

Alexandra smiled, and her muscles relaxed a little. “Maybe you’re just being paranoid, Zach. Did you ever consider that?” Oh, she was bad for toying with him like this. Bad, bad, bad.

He growled. “Just tell me one thing. Is she seeing someone else?”

“
What
?” Alexandra abruptly stopped moving, the question shocked her so much. Then she laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Zach. Hannah would never cheat on you. For some insane reason, that woman thinks you’re the male equivalent of a hot fudge sundae.” She snorted to emphasize her disagreement with that assessment. His brother, on the other hand…

“Something’s going on, dammit. I’m not an idiot.” He grumbled like a caged animal, and she imagined he was pacing like one too.

Alexandra sighed. She needed to detour his suspicions a little longer without making the poor man completely neurotic. Dylan wasn’t ready for a reunion with his big bro yet, and she wasn’t sure Zach was in the right place either. She snapped her fingers as an idea came to her. “All right, Zach. Don’t tell Hannah I said anything, okay?” She’d have to call Hannah and let her in on this jewel of a decoy. “You have a birthday coming up in a month, right?” She knew this only because it had been part of Hannah’s argument for finding Dylan. Hannah hadn’t wanted Zach to go another year without mending things with his little brother.

“Yeah. How do you know that?”

“Think about it, boss. Your birthday is coming up. Hannah’s being secretive.” Boy, she hoped he took the bait soon. She needed to get him off the phone.

“She’s doing something for my birthday?” He sounded surprised, and as pleased as a kid on Christmas.

“Bingo. And she called me last night so we could talk about planning a party. You will deny all knowledge of this. Got that?”

“Well, yeah. I guess. You guys are really throwing me a party?”

She rolled her eyes. Men. They could be so easy to manipulate. “Zach, I’ve got to go. Don’t tell Hannah I said anything, okay?”

He sighed. “Thanks, Alexandra. You’re a good friend.”

Why did he have to go and say something like that, making her feel as guilty as a loyal pup sitting beside the poo she’d left in her owner’s shoe? Yes, she and Zach had become friends. Kind of. That’s partly why she’d agreed to help Rebecca and Hannah find Dylan, but crap. Now they really were going to have to try to throw him a party.

Alexandra hated parties.

A click signaled the door opening behind her, and she spun around quickly, her eyes widening when Dylan stepped into the room, all hot and brooding.

“Er, thanks, boss. Sorry, but I really gotta run.” She pressed END and stepped forward. “So, are we done for the day or do you have some more things you want to throw at me?”

Crap. Did she look as nervous as she felt? That had been a close call. Literally.

Dylan’s gaze moved from the phone in her hand and looked her up and down. “You in a hurry to leave? You meetin’ someone or something?”

“I sure as hell hope so.” She reached for her jacket and purse and arched a brow at him. “I’ve got a hot date with the drive-through guy at McDonald’s. Or did you forget we skipped lunch?”

He pushed a hand through the hair at his forehead. “Sorry.”

She shrugged, because it really wasn’t a big deal. She’d worked with enough cops to know that a few skipped meals were usually the last thing on their minds when working a case like this. She fingered the manila folder on the table. “Could I take a copy of one of the pictures? I’ll bring it back tomorrow. Maybe I can try to get some more impressions of this killer. I don’t know, Dylan. Something about him really scares me.”

He moved closer, so close that the scent of musk and sandalwood teased her senses. “What do you mean? How does he scare you?”

She forced herself to focus on the contents of the folder and not on him. He was too distracting. Of all the men in the world, why did this one send her brain to mush with only a glance? “He seems dangerous. I think he enjoys killing, and I think he’ll do it again. Soon. I don’t think he’ll wait another month.”

His hand stopped hers from lifting the photo from the table. A zing of awareness shot from her fingers up her arm and warmed her in places she hadn’t realized were cold. Their eyes met and held. If he moved just a few inches closer, his mouth would be near enough to—

“I’ll go make a copy.” His breath was hot against her face.

She leaned against the table for support after he moved away. A cold shower. That’s what she needed. And a few hours alone, in her hotel room, to get her wits about her again.

It had been a heck of a day. She deserved a little relaxation time.

Dylan wandered back in. He had managed to shrug into his jacket in the time he’d been gone. He handed her a paper copy of the photograph. Not ideal, but she could work with it.

“Why don’t you let me buy you dinner?” His blue eyes had softened, that cocky grin was back on his face, and just like that he morphed from skeptical cop back into Mr. Delicious.

Oh dear.

Tell him no. Tell him NO, Alexandra.

“Okay.” She mentally face-palmed herself, but her brain and her mouth had reached an impasse. “I’m starving. Where do you want to go?”

“You’ve got a car?” When she nodded, he put his hand on her back and gently pushed her forward. “I’ll follow you to your place, and then we can walk to it.”

Intrigued, she found herself moving forward without arguing. She had the distinct feeling he was up to something, but that could be a bad call. He might only want to unwind a little himself. It would offer her a good chance to get to know him better, for Zach’s sake, of course.

Now she just needed to decide if letting him unwind in her bed again was a good idea. For anyone.

***

The evening air was cool as a breeze blew against Dylan where he stood waiting on Alexandra to get out of her rental car and join him.

Fall in Charleston was one of the best times to visit in his opinion. Sure, he’d grown up in hot-as-hell Louisiana, but he’d never been one for the beach or for hot weather. Even so, when it was sunny here, the seventy-degree temperature in October was perfect. He smelled rain on the wind and figured it would blow in soon. Maybe his idea to walk down to Poogan’s Porch was a bad one. He didn’t want them to get caught in a downpour on foot.

“Ready when you are,” Alexandra said, hurrying up to his side.

He glanced at the sky and made a decision. “This way,” he gestured and began walking. Why the hell was he doing this again? Right. To get to know her better and figure out if she was in danger from this madman or working with the killer somehow. He honestly couldn’t fathom that she was an accomplice, but he almost preferred that idea to her being in danger. It nibbled at his nerves to imagine anyone threatening this woman. No idea why he cared so much. He barely knew her.

“You’ve had an eventful day,” he said to make conversation and smiled, because it was true.

“No kidding. Been there. Done that. Let’s
not
do some of it again, okay?”

“Which part can we do again, ‘cause I kind of enjoyed some of it.” Damn. Why had he said that when he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to flirt with her? She was a consultant. Off limits.

She puckered her lips and hummed. “Yeah, I say let’s avoid the morgue and that whole fainting at the sight of a dead guy part. Does that work for you?”

“Agreed.”

She hadn’t excluded sex, he noticed. Did that mean she was willing to have another go at it? His pants tightened at his groin and he quickened his step on the pretense of opening the door for her. He swallowed a curse. This was no good. He couldn’t trust himself around this woman. Half the time when he looked at her, all he saw was the way she’d stared up at him when she was underneath him. Her eyes had been dark and drugged with passion and—

He felt a tug on his jacket and turned toward her. She was pointing up at the building. “Seriously? We were just here last night.”

He forced memories of last night into the corner of his mind he rarely visited. “And you’ve got a problem with that? I come here most days after work.”

“Men.” She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you live around here or something.”

“Or something.” He smiled.

“As long as the food is good, I’m game.” She brushed past him and moved inside, glancing around as if she were scanning the area for someone. His earlier suspicions wiggled back to the forefront. Did she know someone here? Was she afraid of being outed for something?

The hostess must have recognized her. The tiny blonde co-ed Dylan knew as Jane welcomed Alexandra back and asked if she was dining or wanted to visit the bar and billiards upstairs again.

“Two for the restaurant,” Dylan answered for her.

The last temptation he needed was a reminder of the sexually charged game of pool they’d played here last night. The first-floor restaurant was crowded but they snagged a table in the corner, which gave them a little privacy. A live jazz band was finishing a set on the makeshift stage on the other side of the room. He waited until they were seated to speak his thoughts.

“I’m surprised you opted to eat upstairs last night if it was your first night in town.” Maybe it hadn’t been, he thought. Maybe she’d been here before and he’d never seen her. He hung his jacket on the back of his chair and watched while she did the same before sitting.

She shrugged. “The hotel worker who recommended this place told me to eat upstairs for the harbor view.”

“What’d you think?”

“Of the view?” She gave him a slow once over. “Impressive.”

Now she was flirting back.

He was grateful for the interruption of the waiter who came to take their drink order. Alexandra surprised him by shutting her menu after barely giving it a glance, saying, “I’ll have whatever you’re having. You obviously know the menu.”

Dylan ordered them both burgers and sweet teas and sat back in his seat. The music was loud but not loud enough to discourage conversation.

“So tell me about yourself, Alexandra King. You’re from Atlanta, right?”

“Currently.” She leaned forward and met his gaze while her fingers toyed with a napkin.

“Where are you from originally?”

“I was born in Hawaii.”

“Hawaii?”

She smiled. “After that, we lived in Germany for a while, then Florida and California. We lived in Australia for a year when I was 10. That was awesome.” She snapped her fingers. “I did graduate from high school in Arizona. We lived there a few years. I went to college in Colorado and stayed there until I moved to Georgia about six months ago. What about you?”

The woman got around. “Born and raised in Louisiana. Moved here a couple of years ago.” The music got louder, so he leaned forward and raised his voice. “Were you a military kid or something?”