“No. I can’t think of anything. Ask Max if you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you,” Calvin replied.
“I hear abut,” I countered.
Calvin shook his head. “I wish I didn’t.”
“Believe me? No offense, but that’s a surefire way to guarantee a cold shoulder for at least two—three days.”
“I don’t mean it like that.” Calvin lowered his hand. He absently unbuttoned his winter coat. “If you were withholding information, I’d actually have something to work with on this case.”
I cocked my head. “So this is connected to another murder?”
Calvin answered by saying nothing.
“How so?” I prodded. “The note or the body part?”
“Please don’t start poking around.”
“I’m not,” I replied. “The deerstalker is hung up for good.”
Calvin shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of my desk chair.
“I’m only asking for clarification,” I began, “because I would like to know if I’m in some sort of immediate danger.”
“You didn’t recognize the deceased?”
I shook my head. “No. Not that it’d be easy to—he was missing an eye and I think a few front teeth. I didn’t study it much more beyond that.” I stared at Calvin. “Didyourecognize him?”
“No,” Calvin murmured. He stared at me again.
Neither of us wanted to say it. Speaking it out loud gave substance to the situation. We’d already survived too many murder mysteries together in one year.Bizarremysteries. Where the outcome had hinged on my insight of peculiar characters from a century long since passed.
True, I had landed myself a soul mate due to those unfortunate events, but now that the red thread was firmly tied between us, I really had no reason to accept a fourth dance with the devil. Between us, we had two more bullet wounds than this time last year, and I’ll be the first to say they aren’t as sexy or romantic as fiction portrays them to be. No more for me, thank you.
“Son of a bitch,” Calvin swore, very quietly. He raked a hand through his thick, fiery hair.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I said coyly. “People will talk.”
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart,” Calvin eventually said, “but they’vebeentalking.”
“No shit. Apparently even beat cops know of me.” I leaned back against the door. “I havenointerest in worming my way into this case… but I’m still curious. You know that, right?” I asked, voice low.
Calvin let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I know.”
Mysteries were always going to enthrall me—even taking my near-death experience into account. I think I was hardwired to solve puzzles. My ego thrived on proving I knew a thing or two abouteverything—and if I didn’t, you’d bet your ass I’d make myself the most informed person on the scene. So for as gruesome and unnerving as this morning’s event had been, it was also temptation of the worst kind.
Interrogatives, burning with regard, buzzed in my mind.
Who sent the head?
Unknown.
What did it mean?
