Page 113 of XO Karma

“It’s a good theory. Bodies are dropping, and they’ve got a creepy tomb in their basement and a decomposition ditch in their barn.”

“Okay.” I unpin it from the wall again. “Let’s try that angle, then.” I flip the board to the victim map on the other side. “Let’s see if we can match any of the names or find connections between the victims and the Westerfords or the victims and this list.” Aster snatches the paper from my fingers. “Hey!”

“Sweetheart,” he patronizes, and I curse myself for how much I enjoy what it does to my insides. “I’m the writer for the crime section. I think I’d be more likely to know people’s names off the top of my head.”

“Or we could split the list and partake in actual research. Aren’t journalists supposed to do that as well?”

“Sometimes the research is”—he taps his head—“right here.”

“You’re such a cocky bastard.”

He chuckles, eyes dropping down my body still adorned in the baby blue dress, and I squirm. “There must be something seriously wrong with me.”

“Why?”

He steps closer, taking my chin between his fingers. “The meaner you are, the more it turns me on.”

“Well, in that case…” I bite my lower lip, stifling a smile. “You are so handsome.”

He groans, running a hand against the front of his slacks. “When you’re nice, it turns me on even more.” He leans in, puckering his lips, and I press a hand to his face, pushing him away.

“None of that until we make some actual progress.”

“Are you bribing me with sex?” An unabashed smile spreads across his face. “You should know, I’m highly motivated by a reward system.”

“I’d do just about anything for some answers right now.”

“Anything?” He cocks a brow.

“Just about.”

“Fine,” he relents, turning his attention to cross-checking each of the victims. After thirty minutes of silence, he steps forward, glancing back and forth between the client list and the board. “No fucking way.”

“What?”

“Georgio Rezea, killed a few months ago.” He points to the article on the board. “He used to be the accountant for the Vetrel family.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’d heard rumors they thought he was working with the FBI, but when he got killed, I never really thought about it again.”

“You think Kodak got him because he was working with criminals?”

“Or the criminals got him because he was working with the FBI.”

“But this was a textbook Kodak Killer case.”

“Yes, but maybe we’ve been looking at this all wrong. Until now, we’ve assumed the Kodak Killer was picking his victims at random. What if…” Aster’s eyes bounce around the board at a pace that makes me nervous.

A more terrifying thought settles into my bones. “What if he isn’t picking the victims at all?” Is this what the anonymous caller wanted me to understand? They’re merely a pawn?

“I mean… I guess it’s possible.”

An aching panic sets in my gut. A serial killer on the loose scares me. The possibility that someone else might be pulling the strings? Horrifying. “Do you think you could have the same contact?”

“No way.” He shakes his head. “Kodak is far too theatrical for their taste. We prefer the get in, get out, don’t get caught method.”

“And who is this contact of yours exactly?” I ask, hoping for any sliver of clarification.