Page 35 of D for Dead

Nodding, Amy took in for the first time the suit he was wearing, the briefcase in his hand. On the previous occasions she’d seen him he’d been with Nadine and dressed more casually.

‘I design security systems,’ Troy elaborated. He hooked a thumb in the direction of the old brownstone building on the opposite side of the road to Mabel’s. ‘Just landed an account with Blake & Colman, the law firm, to update their system. Saw this place as I was leaving and thought I’d grab a coffee. Can I buy you a cup?’

‘Sorry?’

‘A coffee.’

Focus, Amy. Focus.

He was peering anxiously at her again and she found herself looking at his eyes. They were a deep blue; the colour of midnight. They crinkled as he spoke again.

‘I’d like to buy you a coffee as an apology for the other day. Nadine was out of line and I’m sorry. She gets passionate about things and she’s a huge fan of your books, but she was wrong to confront you how she did.’

‘I, um, it’s okay.’ It wasn’t okay, but Amy’s problem was with Nadine. Troy had done nothing wrong and had nothing to apologise for. ‘It’s kind of you to offer, but I need to get back home.’

She thanked him again, said goodbye and made her way back to her car, mind spinning.

She knew the victim.

Of course it had to be a coincidence, an awful, sick twist of fate, but it didn’t make Amy feel any better. She hadn’t known Kasey Miller by name, but she had by face. The girl had been serving her coffee for over a year and now she was dead. Murdered using one of the plots in Amy’s books. She had to tell Sullivan. Correction. She had to tell the cops. Not specifically Sullivan.

He told you to call him if anything happened.

There was no reason she couldn’t go to his partner, Detective Angell. She could drive to the police precinct right now. Tell them she knew the victim; that it had to be a coincidence. She only knew the girl by face, hadn’t known her name or anything about her. She was just a girl working in a coffee shop and it happened to be a coffee shop Amy sometimes used. There was no way the killer would’ve made that connection. Could he? She forced herself to take another deep breath.

Take a moment, Amy. Pull yourself together and calm down.

Her skin was hot and clammy, her heart beating too fast. She needed to get a grip of herself, assess and evaluate the situation, and decide on the best course of action.

Drive home, take ten minutes to calm down then call Sullivan. You know it’s the right thing to do.

The drive back to her apartment was a blur, her head still full of whats and whys and ifs; the picture of smiling Kasey Miller; the bouquets of flowers in Mabel’s.

She pulled into her parking spot in the garage, grabbed the bag of groceries.

As she stepped inside the apartment building, Amy’s attention was immediately drawn to the line of locker-style mailboxes.

Hers was hanging ajar. She hadn’t left it that way. Trepidation knotted her gut as she crossed the lobby, pulled the door open wide and let out a scream as she saw the rat hanging in front of her by its long, thin tail, grey-brown fur mottled with dry blood.

Stepping away from the lockers, she reached into her purse with shaking fingers for her cell phone, failing to spot that behind the rat sat an envelope with her name written across it in thick capital letters.

12

Amy sat on her couch; the glass of water on the table before her untouched. She looked pale, drawn, confused and a little scared.

Jake could understand why. She had just discovered she knew one of the murder victims; someone had left a dead rat in her mailbox and that same someone had been following her, taking pictures. The five photographs left in an envelope in her mailbox were laid out on the coffee table. Two showed Amy down at the river playing with Huckleberry; a third was a close-up of her face. It was a profile shot and she was wearing sunglasses. The others were from different occasions. One showed her leaving her apartment building, while the other had been taken as she left the book signing at Too Many Books. Which would suggest the photographer had been the one to graffiti Amy’s car, but was he the same man who had followed her Wednesday night and could he be their killer?

Jake’s hunch was yes.

‘We’re going to arrange for a police officer to stay here with you,’ he told her.

‘You think I’m in danger?’

Yes, he thought, but didn’t say the word out loud.

‘It’s a precaution,’ Rebecca answered smoothly. ‘This may have nothing to do with the recent murders, but we’re not prepared to take that risk.’

‘Are you working at the Velvet Lounge tonight?’