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Authors: Jaci Burton

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BOOK: The Heart of A Killer
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The room got hot. Her vision began to swim and her throat tightened, cutting off her breath.

No. Not now. This couldn’t be happening.

She had to get out of here.

“I’m done,” she said, forcing her breaths to slow down even as dizziness took over.

This was such a shitty time for a panic attack.

She pivoted and pushed through the double doors, already feeling the cold clamminess, the numbness in her fingers and face.

Get out. Get out now.

“M.E.’s behind schedule but has him on tap for tomorrow,” the tech remarked casually as they walked into the elevator. “You coming back to watch?”

Anna nodded, barely focusing on his words as he pushed the button and the elevator pitched and rolled. Nausea rose in her stomach and she leaned back against the wall for support. She needed to lie down, to feel something cool against her face.

She’d never fallen apart in front of anyone. If someone found out, they might tell her she couldn’t do her job.

Could the tech see her sweat? Did he notice how pale she was? She tried to stay calm, to keep from breathing too fast.

When the doors opened, she walked slow and easy past the desk, but as it was, she could barely walk at all. She could no longer feel her legs past the pins and needles stabbing them.

“See you tomorrow,” the tech said, waving her off.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Her car seemed a thousand miles away as she shoved the door open, the blast of summer heat only making the queasiness worse. She was going to collapse right here on the front steps. She needed to lie down, to curl up in the fetal position so she could breathe.

But it was so hot out here. A few more feet, then she’d be in the car. She could turn on the air-conditioning and lie down.

She breathed in and out as fast as she walked, which only made it worse, she knew, but once the panic hit the only thing that mattered was getting to safety, being able to shut the doors and lock everyone out.

She weaved through the lot and knew she looked like a drunk. She could only hope no one saw her.

A few more feet. Just a few more feet. She fumbled in her pants pocket for her keys. Where were her keys, dammit? Finally she grasped them, dug them out and hit the remote, the sweet sound of the car unlocking her salvation. Sweat poured down her face and back as she grabbed the door handle and slid inside, punched the lock and started the engine.

She cranked the A/C down to the sixties, punched up the fan, the sick feeling overwhelming her as she breathed in short pants, trying to remember to take in slow breaths and exhale easily.

She pushed the seat back as far as it would go and leaned over, shoving her head between her knees.

This was going to pass. She was going to survive it.

She was drenched in sweat, but the cold air-conditioning was a lifeline. Every minute that passed had her chest loosening up so she could draw a breath. Within fifteen minutes she could lift her head without wanting to pass out or throw up. She swiped her wet hair away from her face and looked around, thankful no one had come by the car to see her embarrassing show of weakness.

When she was no longer shaking like a leaf, she put the car in gear and headed home.

Dante made sure to arrive at Anna’s house earlier than everyone else. He wanted a chance to talk to her first.

When she opened the door, she looked gorgeous. Her shorts and tank top showed off incredibly toned legs and arms.

But she also looked pale and tired, with those dark circles still under her eyes. And that worried him.

“You don’t look like you slept at all.”

She pulled the door open. “If I want that kind of browbeating I’ll go see my dad.”

“How is he, by the way?”

“Doing okay, other than being grouchy as hell. He had to retire a few years ago because of a knee injury.”

“Job related?”

“Yeah. Went running after a suspect and blew out his ACL when he tripped in the dark. After a couple surgeries, it was obvious he wasn’t going to be able to work as a detective again, so he took early retirement.”

Dante followed her into the living room. “Bet that pissed him off.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

He held up the case of beer he’d brought. “Where do you want this?”

“Fridge is fine.”

He put the case in her refrigerator and pulled two out, handed one off to her after popping the top off.

She pulled her legs up and crossed them, took a long swallow and sighed.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Day off. But yeah, still a long day.”

“Maybe you should have caught up on some sleep.”

She lifted her head and looked at him. “I get the idea this whole sleep thing weighs on you.”

He laughed. “It does when it looks like you haven’t had much of it lately. Working too many hours, or is it nightmares that keep you awake?”

He’d cut a little close to the truth, so she decided to change the subject. “Do you think everyone will be here by six?”

“I know evasive tactics when I see them, Detective. But in answer to your question, yes, they’ll be on time.”

“Did you get hold of everyone?”

“I got hold of Roman and Gabe, and Roman said he’d call Jeff.”

“Okay.”

“So on your day off did you do any detecting on the case?”

She wasn’t about to tell him about her ridiculous trip to the morgue to stare at George’s body. “No.”

“You working this case by yourself?”

“Well, Roman can’t since George was indirectly a relative.”

“But no other partner?”

“No.”

“I thought you cops always worked with partners.”

“Not always. And we’re short-staffed, so we work cases alone or with uniforms. Roman and I aren’t partnered, though we have bumped into each other on cases now and then.”

“Funny that you both ended up in law enforcement. He’s the last person I would have expected to become a cop.”

She took another drink of her beer and wrapped her hands around the bottle, making sure to keep her focus on Dante, on the present, and not on the past. “I would think you would have been more surprised that
I
ended up in law enforcement.”

His lips curled. “That, too, but Roman was always a little wild and undisciplined. You at least had the familial background for it.”

“People grow up and change. Maybe the incident twelve years ago altered Roman’s perspective enough to make him want to pursue law enforcement.”

“I guess it did change some of us. Or maybe it affected all of us in some way, affected the choices we made in our lives after that night.”

Cryptic words.

She wanted to ask him if that night had changed him at all, and if it had, how. He was catching up on all of them. But his secretiveness was beginning to piss her off.

The doorbell rang and she rose to answer it.

Gabe was at the door, with Jeff.

“I hope someone ordered pizza,” Jeff said as he strolled in with his usual abundance of showmanship. “I’m starving.”

Dante had never thought he’d be back here, let alone reunited with the old gang in one place. With Jeff and Gabe showing up, and Roman walking in a few minutes later, it was as if he hadn’t been gone.

They were all older now, but the smiles and laughs were the same. They were different, and yet the same.

Jeff had come in wearing a suit—a suit, of all things. No way would Dante have predicted that.

“A suit, Jeff?”

Jeff waggled his brows. “Gotta maintain my slick image with the ladies, ya know?” He flicked the lapels of his jacket. “They like me suave and sophisticated.”

Anna rolled her eyes and slapped a beer into Jeff’s hand. “He’s in insurance sales. Hence, the suit.”

Dante laughed. “Is that right? And how are insurance sales?”

Jeff popped the top off his beer. “People keep drivin’ cars, buyin’ houses and they keep dyin’. Business is good.”

“And ninety-five percent of his customers are women. Go figure,” Roman said, taking the other beer Anna offered.

“Can I help it if the ladies like me?” Jeff asked, throwing his arm around Roman.

Dante always thought Jeff and Roman looked the most like brothers. Both about the same height and with light hair, Roman’s was more surfer-boy blond, whereas Jeff’s was sandy, but Dante and Gabe used to tease them about being the golden boys.

“So any wives or kids?” Dante asked as he sat on the sofa next to Jeff.

“Oh, God, no. I’m still playing the field, hoping like hell never to get caught.”

Dante laughed.

“How about you?” Jeff asked.

“No. Not married yet.”

“I’m so glad you’re back, man. I missed you. It was rough when you and Gabe left.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he left the same time I did.”

“Where’ve you been?”

He was going to have to answer that question soon. Probably sooner rather than later, judging from the way Anna hovered on the edge of their conversation. “Around. Here and there.”

Jeff laughed. “That sounds like you don’t want to answer. Like you’ve been in jail or somethin’.”

“No. Not jail.”

“On the beach in Bali with the perfect woman?”

Dante laughed. “Uh, no.”

“Hey, man, I can dream, can’t I? I always pictured you running some con with a sexy brunette, then taking the money and leaving the country, living out your days in luxury.”

Jeff always had a vivid imagination. It’s how he’d survived a hellish childhood filled with abuse.

“I like the way you think, Jeff, but no. That sounds more like your fantasy.”

Jeff took a long gulp of beer and nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. Always on the lookout for the perfect woman.”

“Who’s running away from you,” Gabe replied, sliding into an unoccupied chair. “Which is why Jeff is still single.”

Dante shook his head. “The more things change…”

“The more they stay the same,” Roman said, taking a spot on the sofa on the other side of Dante.

“What about you, Roman?” Dante asked.

He shrugged. “Haven’t settled down yet.”

“But rumor has it Tess might be the one,” Jeff said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah?” Dante asked. “Who’s Tess?”

Roman’s cheeks turned pink. “A woman I’ve been seeing for a while now.”

Roman had always been shy around girls. Even now, Dante could tell he was uncomfortable talking about Tess. But he wanted to hear more. He wanted to know more about all of them. He’d missed so much.

“Dante, you’re the elusive playboy, just like me,” Jeff said. “You and I can hook up and it’ll be like old times all over again.”

Dante laughed. “You know, Jeff, I always thought you just used me to get women to buzz around you.”

Jeff leaned forward. “You’d think that, ya know? But for some reason I haven’t been all that lonely since you’ve been gone. Maybe you weren’t the babe magnet we all thought you were. Maybe it was me all along.”

Gabe snorted.

“Hey, I’m not exactly lonely,” Jeff said, shooting Gabe a glare.

“No, but you are full of shit.”

Jeff raised his arms and laid them over the back of the sofa. “See, Dante, this is what you’ve missed out on. You planning on stayin’ now that you’re back?”

His gaze hit Anna just as Jeff asked the question. “Don’t know yet. I’ll be here for a little while.”

“No, he’s not staying,” Anna said right over the top of him.

“Not staying? Come on, Dante, we just got the old gang back,” Jeff said.

But the pizza arrived, so that shut down most of the conversation as they all gathered in the kitchen to fill their plates and refill their beers.

When they gathered in the living room, Dante figured this was as good a time as any to bring up the murder.

“So you’re probably wondering why you’re all here.”

“Because you’re back in town, we figured,” Jeff said. “And to pay tribute to George, the best father any of us ever had.” Jeff raised his beer. “To George.”

They all drank.

Dante glanced to Anna, who was leaned back on the sofa engrossed in the conversation. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to fill them in on why they were really here. He nudged her foot with his. “Do you want to do this, or should I?”

She narrowed her gaze at him and actually looked irritated. “Now?”

“If not now, when?”

“Fine.” She turned her attention to the rest of the guys. “This is actually not a welcome-home-Dante party.”

“It’s not? Does this mean I have to chip in for the pizza and beer?” Jeff asked.

“Cheapskate,” Roman said.

“Hey, I need to save all my money for the ladies. They like to be shown a good time.”

“Which means what, exactly? Bowling? Dollar-movie night?”

“Fuck you, Gabe. My women are always satisfied.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” Roman said.

Gabe snorted. Jeff flipped him off. Dante laughed. This was just like old times.

“Guys,” Anna said, wrangling them in. “Can we get back to why we’re here?”

“Oh. Sure, honey,” Jeff said, shooting all the guys a glare. “Why are we here?”

“We need to talk about George’s murder.”

That got their attention. Jeff frowned. “I know. It sucks. Funeral is Thursday.”

“I’m not looking forward to it,” Roman said. “Poor Ellen. I went by to see her this morning. She’s trying her best to be cheerful, but you can tell she’s crushed.”

Jeff nodded. “She’s going to be lost without George. The two of them—they went together, ya know? One just doesn’t belong without the other.”

Dante could tell Jeff was getting choked up. He stood. “That’s right. This murder has ruined Ellen’s life. George was everything to her. We have to figure out why it happened. Someone beat him to death in the same alley where Anna was attacked that night. And carved a heart on his chest—same as what happened to Anna.”

Anna moved around in front of the sofa to face them. “Also, after the murder, someone left flowers on my front porch with a note that asked me if I liked the gift they left in the alley.”

“And before any of you ask,” Roman said, “we don’t have any clues. No evidence left behind at the scene. No fingerprints, nothing.”

“What the fuck. So what does that mean?” Jeff looked at Roman, at Gabe, then at Dante.

BOOK: The Heart of A Killer
13.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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