Page 66 of D for Dead

Rationality kicked in at the last second.

Before he could stop her, she pushed herself back and got up from the couch.

Hickok lay there for a second, watching her as she busied herself picking pizza up from the floor. A couple of slices were ruined, but most of it was still in the box.

What the hell had she been thinking? Her thoughts went to Alan and she immediately felt guilty.

‘You know you want it as much as I do.’ Hickok’s words cut through her thoughts.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You, me.’ He slowly sat up, patted the couch and grinned. ‘Here, for old time’s sake.’

‘I have a boyfriend,’ she said tightly.

‘Yeah, we’ll see.’

‘I mean it, Hickok. I’m not here to be your plaything whenever you decide to roll into town.’

When he continued to stare at her, that cocky grin on his face, Rebecca shook her head. ‘I’ll get plates.’

From now on she had to keep things strictly professional with Hickok, focus purely on the case. He was an idiot coming here, but he was here and she would take the higher road, share her dinner with him, after which she would politely ask him to leave.

She could do that.

* * *

The room was gloomy, the single overhead light flickering annoyingly and he briefly considered changing the bulb. He had enough light for what he needed to do, though, and decided it would probably enhance the atmosphere once his victim was in place. The room had been perfect for the job. The bathtub was positioned beneath a sturdy wooden beam, which would securely hold the rope he had hooked over it. On the floor lay his tools: more rope, cuffs, duct tape, a plastic overall and gloves, his butcher’s knife and a taser. Beside them was a copy of Amy Gallaty’s third novel, Blood Crime.

He glanced at his watch, noted it was nearly nine thirty. The next victim would soon be in place, ready for him to make his move. Carefully he selected the tools he needed, placed them in his sports bag. Casting a final glance over the room, he allowed himself a small smile. Everything was perfect, everything in place.

He grabbed his bag, killed the light and stepped out of the room.

21

Jake walked Roxy by the river, enjoying the time spent alone with his thoughts. She seemed delighted to have him to herself and, although he’d let her off the leash, she mostly stayed close.

Dusk had settled; the street lights were already on and there were maybe another fifteen minutes left before night took hold. As he made his way along the riverbank his thoughts were on Amy.

Away from her he could be rational, understood he was crossing boundaries. This wasn’t his style. He had always been a cop who’d been able to keep work life and personal life in separate boxes. Why was Amy Gallaty different? Subconsciously he found himself wandering the route through the park leading out opposite her apartment building.

Damn it, Jake. Focus.

Although a faint glow of light came from the patio window, he knew she wasn’t home. He had left her with Hal Peterson, a level-headed patrol officer from the precinct. Peterson was no Boaz and Jake trusted him to keep Amy safe. She had a bar shift tonight and the officer would be blending discreetly with the clientele, while watching her every move.

Which leaves you with some free time.

The thought made him restless. It was Saturday night and he should be enjoying some downtime.

His neighbour, Natalie, was having a party. She’d invited him weeks ago and it had slipped his mind. He’d seen her as he’d been heading out with Roxy, dressed in a little black number, and she’d asked him if he was coming. Maybe he should go.

Either that or he could call up Brad Kramer; grab a beer down at Mahoney’s. It tended to be the local cop hangout and there would be a dozen of their other colleagues in there. Musing on the idea, he bent down to clip the leash on Roxy before they reached the roadside, attention drawn to the dozen or so cigarette butts on the ground. Perhaps it was nothing, but it was dead opposite Amy’s apartment and an odd place for someone to stand and smoke.

He thought of Amy’s ex-boyfriend, David Gavin, allegedly back in town. Was he watching her, with a score to settle? Then there was Nadine Williams and Troy Cunningham. Nadine seemed too hot-headed to lurk around in bushes, but what about Troy? There was something off about the guy.

Out of habit he kept a couple of evidence bags in his wallet. Careful to use the plastic of the bag, he picked up the butts, secured them and stuffed them in his pocket.

It wouldn’t hurt to check them out.