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“It’s all right,” he said, evidently reacting to the stricken look on her face. “I don’t have any need to stay. Actually, I’m looking forward to getting stuck right in again. But I can take Jones, if you want to stay.”
“No,” Laura said immediately, so fast he looked at her with a squint to his eyes. “No, it’s… fine. I don’t have much to stay for either. Not without visitation rights with Lacey.”
Sickness squirmed in her stomach as the elevator dropped. She couldn’t let him go alone. Whatever shadow was hanging over him, if it happened because she stayed behind, she would never forgive herself.
She needed to stay at his side—and figure out what was going to kill him before it had a chance to take hold.
CHAPTER NINE
Laura flipped her tray down as soon as the plane had finished ascending, grabbing the case briefing out of her carry-on bag. “Ready to hear about the case?” she asked.
“What have we got?” Nate asked, settling back in his chair. His broad shoulders filled the seat easily, which made it uncomfortably difficult for Laura to avoid an accidental brush against him. Several times during the check-in and boarding they’d gotten close enough to trigger that shadow of death again, sending a shiver of ice down her back every time. They had only just left the ground, and her nerves were already frazzled.
At least the shadow didn’t bring headaches with it. That was one small blessing.
It had been a frantic couple of hours to get home, grab her overnight bag, get to the airport, meet Nate, and get through check-in. All that time, she had been itching to get at the notes and find out what they were up against.
“So, the first victim was killed two nights ago,” Laura said, lifting the first sheet of paper to read it out loud. Nate preferred it when she read to him, rather than the two of them having to trade pages to get through it all separately. “Laura Carlisle. She lived in an apartment in Albany, with one female roommate. The roommate came back from working a late shift to find Laura dead in her bedroom. She had been strangled with a scarf.”
“Laura.” Nate grunted. “That’s going to get confusing.”
“Not unless you intend to refer to the ligature marks around my neck,” Laura said, concentrating on the pages. “Next up we have Caroline Birchtree, murdered last night in her apartment. She lived alone, and there was a fairly obvious point of entry—a smashed bedroom window.”
“What floor?” Nate asked.
Laura checked the notes. “Second floor,” she said. “But by a fire escape.”
“All right. Strangled?”
“Yes, this time with a phone cord. So it looks as though whoever this is, he’s using items within the home—not bringing his own weapons with him.”
“That we know of,” Nate said, lifting a finger. “Let’s not make any assumptions this early.”
“Right, right.” Laura sighed, flicking back and forth between the two pages as she compared the women. “I can’t see any obvious link. Local PD say they haven’t yet found a connection between them either.”
“So it’s a random opportunity killer,” Nate said heavily, rocking his head back against the seat. “Great. My favorite. Always so easy to solve.”
“Let’s not make any assumptions this early,” Laura teased him. “Might be something that ties them together yet. We don’t have the full picture. Besides, they’re both in the same area, so that’s one connection already.”
“Same block?” Nate asked hopefully, raising an eyebrow.
Laura studied the two maps that had been provided, grayscale printouts showing the pinned locations of the two crime scenes. “No,” she said. “They’re both in Albany, though.”
“That’ll narrow it down.” Nate shook his head. “So, why are they struggling with this one so much?”
“Looks like the killer is meticulous,” Laura replied, scanning the last page of the report. “There’s no witnesses as of yet, although local appeals are still ongoing. They think he goes in at night when no one else can see. Probably wears gloves—there’s no preliminary indication of any forensics evidence. He’s using things from within the home, which speaks both to a lack of a planning and yet very clear forethought. He doesn’t want to leave a trace behind.”
“Still seems quick for them to call us in. Was this their shout, or are we unwelcome?”
Laura tapped the page which had their landing instructions. “It says here we’ll be met by the sheriff himself, if that tells you anything.”
“It tells me they’re freaking out about this. Great. Well, at least we’re not going to be given the cold shoulder when we ask for assistance.” Nate closed his eyes, his head still tilted back. “I wish this was a longer flight. I could do with a nap.”
“Then have one,” Laura suggested. “They call it a power nap when it’s short, right? Maybe you’ll wake up more powerful.”
“You’re saying I’m not powerful enough?” Nate asked, flexing his muscles with a grin.
Any other time, Laura thought, she would have patted him on the arm and said something condescending. She drew back from touching him again. “You’re not funny when you’re tired,” she said instead, looking out her window dismissively.
