Page 46 of The Party is Over


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“Kane—”

He drags me to him. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Lilah. I promise.”

“I’d feel better if you took Kit.”

He cups my head and kisses the hell out of me, and damn it, he kisses me like he might not ever kiss me again. “I don’t want you to ever kiss me like that.”

He grabs his bag. “I’ve got to go.” He heads for the door.

“Kane!”

He pauses at the door and turns back to me.

“Kane, if whoever is working with Miguel is the brains and is targeting us, then they know us. And they know you have to kill Miguel. Why would they want you to do that?”

“Maybe they hate Miguel as much as I do.”

“Maybe you need to think about this.”

“I’ve already thought about it. He’s a dead man walking. I have to go.”

And this time, he leaves.

I follow him, watching him disappear down the stairs, and oh my God, this clawing sensation in my gut is making me crazy. I want to run after him, and that is not like me. It feels like something is going to go wrong and I can’t stop it from happening.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Work is the only way I’m going to beat down that clawing sensation. And with a killer to catch and a ticking clock, work is a necessity. Somehow, it’s dark outside, and already six pm. The time weighs heavy on me with the concern that another night translates to another victim. And the closer each murder, the more occupied we become processing the crime scenes, the less time we have to piece the clues together.

We become mice on a wheel going nowhere.

This is why I need a breakthrough, and I need it now, tonight.

I change into leggings and a long sleeve shirt and my slippers. Then, considering I’ve only eaten a slice and a half of pizza and a donut today, I head downstairs, grab strawberries, chocolate, and a Diet Sprite, and head to Purgatory. In the process, my father calls twice and I decline both calls. I need to detach myself from the rest of the world. The only person I do talk to is Tic Tac.

I’ve just settled onto the floor with notecards all around me and a piece of chocolate in my mouth when he calls. I answer on speaker, “Yo.”

“Yo?” I can almost see his forehead etched in utter confusion. “What is ‘Yo’?”

“If you have such a big a stick up your ass that you don’t know ‘yo’ is hello, then I just can’t help you, Tic Tac.”

“You think everyone has a stick up their ass.”

“Just most of the men I work with. What do you have for me and should I trust you to interrupt in modern cultural times?”

“Rollins called me about Cathy and Jennifer,” he says. “Apparently, his team found no red flags and he wanted to be sure I felt the same. I do.”

“What about the doctor she had a blind date with that might not have been a blind date at all?”

“I managed to pull up street camera footage of them saying goodbye tonight. It was awkward and uncomfortable. I don’t think the date went well. I ran the plates and dug up the name of the doctor. He’s actually a dentist, and I really don’t see any red flags with him, either.”

“What about last night’s victim? Any connections to the other victims?”

“Nothing obvious, but I can’t access the bank’s records. I’m working on a warrant. I feel like the connection is going to be in his customer base. Maybe someone from the diner.”

“That makes sense.” I consider that. “Can you find out where the staff at the diner banks? If there’s a link, that would set off alarms.”

“I’ll see what kind of workaround I can do to look at their banking situation without a warrant.”

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