AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Concern for your safety was the only reason I ever kept anything from you, Lilah. And you did the same for Jay. That’s called being human.”
And not a cold-blooded killer, he means, but what if I can be both? I decide that idea is better left alone. “Are you going to stay for pizza?”
“You know I never get in the middle of your investigations, and I still haven’t resolved my supply issue.” He pauses and eyes my mouth before his gaze finds mine. “I’m not going to kiss you in front of all of these people, but I damn sure want to.”
“That would be very bad for my badass bitch reputation.”
His lips curve. “See you at home.Wife.”
I laugh. “Husband.”
His eyes light and he motions to a man I do not know sitting at the corner table. This man, whoever he is, quickly joins my new husband at the door and they depart. I, in turn, rejoin my goons. “Who is he?”
“Angel,” Kit says. “He’s been with us for years, but in the shadows. He’s a good man.”
An angel guarding a man some still believe to be the devil incarnate. How very contrary. Which turns my thoughts to my investigation. The killer is not someone who seems like a killer. He, in fact, will come off like an absolute angel. Or at least, a version of an angel. But that thought is followed by nothing. That’s the problem. Nothing is all we have right now.
Chapter Thirty
I order my pizza slice and then join Rollins and Jack at the table, claiming Kane’s former seat. “Don’t pull that shit again, Jack,” I state, shrugging out of my trench coat. “Because if you do, Iwilllock you in a closet and leave you there until this case is over.”
“And I’ll help her,” Rollins offers. “And enjoy it.”
Jack cast him a defensive look and begins, “I was just—”
Rollins glares him into silence and then looks at me. “There was a suitcase, a large one, but in a strange turn of events, it was in the company of an elderly lady.” He sips a fountain drink. “As in white, tightly curled hair and loafer shoes, lots of wrinkles. Obviously, she wasn’t strong enough to hold a chainsaw and dismember a grown man.”
“Could it have been a costume?” I ask as the counter guy calls out our orders.
Rollins motions for Jack to go get it. When Jack walks away I say, “How is he even here? Are you taking him on autopsies now?”
“Hell no. He said he heard everyone comes here before or after an autopsy. He’s wrong, of course. We go to the fucking bar.”
I’m already over Jack. “Back to the old lady,” I say.
“It wasn’t a costume. We talked to the security team and one of the guys remembered her because the suitcase was big for her but on rollers. He made her sign-in. We have a name and address.” He taps the table. “And get this. She lives in the neighborhood most of the victims came from, where that diner is as well. Oh, and I have my team checking out delivery people that frequent the neighborhood.”
“That’s smart. Because while we not only have a victim outside the neighborhood, I have a suspect who fled the country who also lived outside the neighborhood.”
I’ve just finished a rundown on Landry when Jack rejoins us, juggling three plates of pizza. “Do we know what floor she took the suitcase to?” I ask, accepting my plate and eyeing my slice. It’s wrong—no feta or olives—but it’s pizza. It really can never be all that wrong. And I get to eat pizza. Sherman Lee, the guy whose apartment we were in last night, does not. A brutal crime scene reminds you to focus on what matters.
“She didn’t fill in her destination on the visitor registration and the security guard can’t remember what she told him. He’s in hot water over it. And yes, we checked him out. He looks clean but I have a guy following him to be sure.”
Finally, someone who doesn’t need to have their hand held or stomped on. “I’ll talk to the old lady,” I offer. “I want to go back over to the neighborhood today anyway, and she’s our one connection to both neighborhoods. What about the victim’s family, friends, and coworkers?”
“I have a couple of detectives on it.”
Jack pipes in, “I can help. I can do it.”
Rollins cuts him a sharp side-eye. “You have a job and a boss. I represent neither of those things.”
“I need to know if anyone remotely connected to this new victim has had credit card transactions in the original neighborhood. Or at the diner. There’s a connection to it we’re missing, or we can’t see because we don’t know who owns those businesses.”
“Where are we on that?” Rollins asks.
“Still waiting too long. In fact,” I snag my phone from my coat pocket and shoot a query to Tic Tac, “I asked for an update. I’d say this is a piece of the puzzle that gets our guy but he seems too smart for it to be that easy.”
“Agreed,” he says, “and now he’s expanded his reach beyond the one neighborhood. That creates a wider view of suspects.”
