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And she was dead-probably because she did trust the wrong person. "What was the job?"

"Don't know. I wasn't close enough to hear, but she said later it was worth ten grand."

That raised my eyebrows. What the hell had the kid gotten herself into that she was promised such a large payout? To me, it immediately suggested something illegal-like the rumored underage slash-film ring that had apparently been running in Melbourne for a while now. But Kaz had been killed by a zombie, and I doubted the filmmakers would have the sort of power needed to raise the dead. If they did, they surely wouldn't be making money from sick underground films. They'd have the means to aim a lot higher.

"Wasn't she suspicious of being offered such a large sum of money?"

"All Kaz worried about was getting the money. Thought she could do so damn much with it." He shrugged.

"There's nothing else you can tell me about the woman that might help track her down?"

He frowned. "Well, she was posh, like. And she had a very manly voice."

Which could have simply meant she was wearing a voice modulator. "And would you recognize her if you saw her again?"

"Sure." He dug a hand into his pocket and withdrew a grimy piece of paper. "Did this up for you."

I accepted the paper and unfolded it. It was a hand-drawn picture of a woman with a hawkish nose and thin lips. I looked up at Joe, surprised. "This is really good."

He shrugged, like it meant nothing, but a quick flash of pleasure showed in his eyes. "I don't know anything else."

"Then thank you for your help." I turned around and handed the cash to Mike. "And thank you."

He leisurely counted the cash, then pocketed it without commenting on the extra twenty-five I'd given him. "Pleasure doing business with you, Riley."

"If you hear of anyone else being approached by a woman with fake blonde hair, you'll get back to me?" I handed him my card, and he pocketed it as easily as the money.

"If there's cash in it, sure."

"You really do drive a hard bargain."

"Hey, a kid has to live."

I suspected this kid would do rather well in whatever profession he set his mind to. Heaven help the police if he decided the criminal life was his thing.

I made my way back to the waiting Kye. He fell in step beside me and we silently made our way out of the building. I stopped at his BMW and turned to look at him. His golden skin was as warm as the sunshine, and the dark red of his hair ran with brighter highlights. He was, in many respects, a golden man with cold, cold eyes-even if those amber depths burned with a desire equal to anything I might be feeling.

The moon might be on the other side of the world at the moment, but she had a hell of a lot to answer for.

"Last warning, Kye. Stay away from this case or I'll report your presence to the Directorate."

His smile was dismissive. He might have heard me, but he wasn't believing me.

"Do you think this wig-wearing woman is the one we're after?"

"What did I just tell you?"

Amusement teased his lips. "Stay away. You didn't say don't discuss."

"It's a very fine point, and not one I'm going to get into. Just get into the car and leave."

His smile grew, even if it never entirely reached his eyes. "Answer me and I will."

I blew out a frustrated breath-although the frustration wasn't due so much to his obstinacy as it was to my own giddy reaction to something as silly as a smile.

"There's nothing to connect the wig-wearing woman with the woman who controlled the hellhounds and the zombie."

"Other than the fact that one woman contacted the kid, and another woman killed her."

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