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“The old lady.”
“She’s not that old,” I say, wondering if age is in fact her weapon and I’ve underestimated her.
Maybe we’re headed into a trap.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Why are we going to the old lady’s again?” Kit asks when Jay and I reach the lobby.
“Am I reporting my cases to you now?” I ask tartly. “Perhaps you’d like to join me on crime scenes? I would have brought you in on the chainsaw murder had I known.”
He smirks. “You think that would bother me?”
Now I smirk. “It’s not the same as what you’ve seen and done, Kit.”
“She’s right,” Jay chimes in. “There’s something about the body in the middle of a room of people who are collecting evidence. It’s really fucking cold. It’s like that person isn’t a person anymore.”
“They’re dead, Jay,” Kit says. “They’re not a person anymore.”
A few minutes later we’re in the car, stuck in traffic, when my phone buzzes with a text message from Jack:I’ve been thinking about the old lady and the missing receipt—and yes, I know about it—I have my ways, which is why I should be your assistant. But anyway, I am headed over there, to try to hire her to help me with some random tasks. I’m going to gain her trust. And then—
Lord,help me, not only is he an idiot, he rambles on text messages. I punch his number and he doesn’t answer. I’m going to kill him. I am. I made this pact with myself to arrest the bad guys, not kill them, but Jack is going to make me step outside every part of that criteria and kill him for being stupid. The call goes straight to voicemail. “Damn it.”
I shoot him a text:Do not go to Cathy’s door. I’m on my way there now. Wait, Jack. I mean it. If you ignore me, there is a locked closet in your future and not a key in sight.
I wait for a reply that doesn’t come. “Damn it.” I eye the traffic. “Don’t freak out, Kit, but I have to get out. Jay can go with me. We’ll meet you at the house.”
“We’re almost there, Lilah,” Kit bitches.
“A lot can go wrong in a few minutes. I’m not stupid, Kit. Something is not right about everything going on right now.” I exit the vehicle and there are rows of cars in front of us.
Kit exits, too.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
“Jay can drive. I’m going with you.”
“Whatever,” I say and I start walking.
“What’s happening?” Jay calls out.
“Drive!” Kit yells, keeping pace with me.
“I don’t like this, Lilah,” Kit says as we step onto the sidewalk.
“It’s called a badge, Kit. My job is not to cower in the back of your SUV.”
He grunts. I check my phone for anything from Jack and when there is nothing, I dial him again. I’m back in voicemail. “Damn it,” I murmur again.
“If you were Jay, I’d ask you what the next horror movie killer would be,” I say, as we turn right toward Cathy’s place.
“Me,” he says. “I’m the next horror movie killer if this asshole tries to touch you.”
“I’m fairly certain we both know I can handle myself.” I scan the street, looking for trouble but find nothing but a man walking his beagle.
Cathy’s little row house comes into view, and I halt and face Kit. “My Spidey senses are going nuts. Go around back. Just in case. But don’t come in. Be ready if you hear anything off or if I don’t reply to a message within ten minutes.”
“I’d rather go right through the front door with you.”
