by Gina LaManna
Once we were in the car, Melinda glanced over at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night at my place?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not coming after me.”
“Maybe not yet,” she said quietly. “But he will.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“It’s always been you when it comes to Wilkes. Nobody knows why except for you, and you’re not talking.”
“Jane’s at home. I can’t leave her there alone.”
It was only a minor lie. Jane would probably be home at some point over the next twenty-four hours. Her schedule as the manager of Rubies nightclub kept her out until all hours of the night, and her boyfriend, Wes Remington, kept her out for the rest of the hours. We were lucky if we passed one another over the breakfast table as I left for work and she tumbled into bed.
Melinda didn’t buy my lie. “I wouldn’t leave you there alone, except...”
She didn’t need to finish her statement. As she pulled in front of the house, a sleek black SUV flashed its lights across the street in greeting. In the front seat was none other than Russo himself.
“Thanks for the ride,” I growled, letting myself out of the car and slinging Jane’s bag over my shoulder.
I stomped up to the SUV as Melinda waved and drove off before she could get sucked into my tirade.
I turned my attention to the agent at hand. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
“I told you—”
“I mean you, personally. Shouldn’t you be getting some rest? We’ve got a missing girl to find, and I can’t be working with a sleep-deprived partner.”
“At least you admit I’m a partner,” Russo said. “That’s a step up from whatever we had going on before.”
“Don’t tell me you’re planning to stay here all night.”
“Just wanted to tuck you in before I head out for my beauty sleep.”
“Go tuck yourself,” I said. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams.”
I crossed the street and let myself into the house, conscious of Russo’s eyes on my back. When I spotted an envelope on the floor just inside the door, I focused on keeping my posture loose so as not to give away my dismay.
I gave a discreet kick to the envelope to push it further inside, then turned and gave a flippant finger wave to the agents before closing the door behind me. Only when I’d clicked every last lock into place, did I let out a shaky breath and sink to the floor, my back against the wall.
Pulling the envelope closer, I glanced at the name on the front. It was my name, of course. In a familiar hand—another note. Would it be a love note this time, or a hate note?
I slit open the flap and pulled out the card. It had pink hearts on it and a throwaway Hallmark phrase about Valentine’s Day. On the inside was a simple message from Wilkes.
I’ve got my sweetheart. How about you?
See you soon.
My stomach roiled at the message. It was obviously a reference to Sarah, and the only saving grace of it was that Wilkes’s note gave me hope she was still alive. Wilkes liked to play with his prey too much to have killed her this soon.
Wilkes knew that the second he killed Sarah, he’d lose leverage with me—with the rest of the authorities, for that matter. For now, he’d be content to tease me with bits and pieces while my mind ran rampant with the possibilities of what he’d done to her—or worse... what he was planning to do.
I headed upstairs. There was nothing more for me to do except get some sleep. The morning would come soon, and with it, hopefully the answers to some of my outstanding questions.
I showered, changed into a pair of old shorts and a T-shirt, and crawled into bed. I laid awake with my eyes wide open for what seemed like ages before I stood up, moved to the window, and double checked the lock. My heart pounded.
I drifted off to sleep sometime later, but unfortunately, Wilkes was there in my dreams.
HE SMILES, LEANS IN, caresses my cheek.
I smell roses, a hint of chocolate. Valentine’s Day.
He’s here. In my house.
The clock flashed 5:13 when I opened my eyes. Still dark. Pitch black outside when I heard the creak. I pulled my gun off the nightstand and brought it with me as I crept toward the hallway.
My room was swathed in darkness, save for the blink of a blue light on my cell phone indicating that I had waiting messages. I always had waiting messages. I ignored them.
I paused, listened. The hallway was silent. No signs of an intruder. No footsteps, no breaths.
Until a light flashed through the hallway and a door banged against the wall. I had my gun up and pointed at the invader as I leapt to a crouch.
“Hands up!” I yelled. “Now, or I’ll shoot! Identify yourself.”
“Kate, it’s me!” Jane’s voice cracked as her hands flew up toward the ceiling. “What’s your problem? I just had to pee.”
I blinked at the wash of light from the bathroom. Adrenaline raced through my body. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here!” Once Jane seemed certain I wouldn’t shoot her, she let her hands drop and glared at me. “I am allowed to stay here, right? That’s what you meant when you told me: You’re allowed to stay here, Jane Rosetti. Unless I misunderstood you somehow?”
“I’m sorry.” My hands shook as I dropped them to my sides. “I thought—I heard something, and...”
“Yes. Me. Moving around my sister’s house. Where I live.”
“You’re not usually back at this time,” I said, but my defensiveness came off as weak. “You startled me.”
“Which is why you practically shot me? You could have just taken a second to look before pulling your gun out.”
“It’s this case I’m working. It’s getting to me. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Kate.” Jane’s shoulders slumped. “I forgot. Ma told me. He’s back, isn’t he?”
I groaned. “Why did ma tell you?”
“You were gone last night. She called to check on you and filled me in.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “It’s just a regular case.”
“Yeah, right. You don’t shoot at me regularly.”
“I didn’t shoot at you.”
“Pretty darn close to it.”
“Relax,” I said. “Go to bed.”
I turned and stalked to my room, but the truth was that I was anything but relaxed. Wilkes’s smile had been so real, the touch of his hand against my skin. The smell of roses and chocolate...
It was all my imagination. It was inspired by my fear for Sarah, along with the Valentine’s Day card I’d found waiting for me. The sick monster had infiltrated my every waking and sleeping moment.
There was no sense in trying to get back to bed, so I hopped in the shower for a quick rinse and dressed for the day in my regular uniform of black pants, low heeled shoes, and a stretchy white V-neck shirt. I threw a jacket over it and headed downstairs to make coffee. While it brewed, I thought back to my interaction with Jane and figured I owed her an apology.
An apology that never came because I was in for another surprise. After pouring a mug full of steaming hot liquid, I nearly dumped it all over myself when I entered my living room and found two sets of eyes staring back at me. The eyes belonged to my family—my mother and Jane.
“What are the two of you doing in my house?” I asked warily. “It’s six in the morning.”
“This is an intervention,” my mother said kindly. “We’re here to help.”
I rolled my eyes, fighting back yet another tsunami of adrenaline. “For what?”
“Shooting people,” Jane said. “Or almost shooting people. It’s not healthy for you to be pulling your gun out and waving it around so recklessly.”
“It’s my own house,” I said. “I thought I had an intruder.”
“You live with your sister,” my mother said. “She was using the bathroom. That’s not exactly what a home invasion sounds like. Would an attacker real
ly stop to use the loo and wash their hands before coming to attack you?”
“I heard a creak. I was disorientated, waking up from a deep sleep.”
“It’s this case,” my mother argued. “It’s not good for you. I want you to get it reassigned before it drives you insane—or worse.”
“What, specifically, is worse than going insane?” I asked with a wry smile.
“Dead,” Jane said quickly. “We don’t want you to end up dead.”
The mood in the room sobered.
I sucked in a deep breath and tried for diplomacy. “I appreciate the thought behind this—whatever this intervention thing is—but it’s misplaced. I don’t tell you all what to do for work, so I’d appreciate the same favor.”
“You tell me what to do all the time,” Jane said.
“That doesn’t count. You’re my sister.”
“It’s not about the work,” my mother said. “I’ve come to terms with the fact that my daughter puts her life on the line every day to fight crime, but this is a step too far.”
“What is this?” I blurted. “What are you getting at?”
“Wilkes!” The name burst from my mother’s lips like a cry. “The monster who almost ruined you the last time you met him. There’s a scar on your body—a physical scar. I saw it when you were in the hospital. That’s where you ended up, Kate—in the hospital. Unconscious. And I had to come down and find you like that.”
“I survived.”
“Last time,” my mother said. “But he’s back. You can’t tell me he’s not got his sights set on you.”
“We watched every minute of the trial we could,” Jane said. “He’s got a weird obsession with you. And every second you spend chasing him means he’s one step closer to coming after you.”
“Every second I don’t spend chasing him is a second that more people could die.” I raised my mug, took a deep sip. “So, thank you for your concern, but I’ve got work to do.”
“Kate—”
“I’m sorry about this morning.” I turned to Jane. Then my mother. “And I’m sorry my career worries you. But it’s the only thing I’m good at, and you can’t stop me from doing it.”
“I know,” my mother murmured. “But this one case, if you could just... I’m sure Jimmy would understand, and the chief, and...”
“It’s my choice to be on this case. I asked for it.”
Silence swallowed up the room. When I ran out of ways to tap my fingers nervously against my cup, I eased back into the kitchen and poured the rest of the coffee into a to-go mug. Then I headed upstairs and finished dressing for the job. Gun, badge, letter from Wilkes.
Unfortunately, this letter was possibly related to an active case, so I’d have to turn it in. I hadn’t decided what to do about the others. However, as I reached for the letter on my nightstand, that’s when I saw it.
One single rose. One heart-shaped box of chocolates.
Chapter 11
“I’m sorry, but it’s for your own good.” I grabbed my keys from the jar in the hallway and turned to face my mother and my sister. “It’ll be better for both of you.”
My mother frowned. “I think it’s good to have someone staying here with you.”
“I disagree,” I said. “I’m obviously on edge, so it’s better if Jane isn’t coming home at all hours of the night. It’s too dangerous for her to be out and about in the neighborhood.”
“And it’s fine for you?” Jane shot back.
“Yes. I’m armed, and I’m trained to take care of myself and others.” I nodded toward the front door. “Do you see that black SUV out there? They’re keeping an eye on the house.”
“So why do I have to stay with our mother if you can stay in your own house?” Jane asked. “I think Ma’s right. It’d be good for you to have company.”
“I disagree, and it’s my house.” I pulled the door open. “End of discussion. It’s just for a few days, Jane. I already have enough on my mind, and I don’t want to worry that I’m putting you in danger too.”
“You sure know how to put your mother’s mind at ease,” my mom said, her frown deepening. “I’m sure if you just talked to the chief—”
“The case is mine,” I intoned. “I’m not giving it up. I’ll see you both later. Jane, please lock up when you leave.”
“Fine.” Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t sleep with all the construction out there anyway.”
I hesitated. “The construction?”
“Across the street.” Jane rolled her eyes. “How can your neighbors live like that?”
“Oh, the Robertson family,” I said. “They’re on vacation. They’re having some work done on the house and asked me to keep an eye on it. I pick up their mail once a week.”
“Well, they could’ve picked a more convenient time to do it. They’re pounding at all hours of the day.”
“Good. Then you’ll sleep better at mom’s.”
I shut the door behind me, astutely ignoring the SUV still sitting outside as I shuffled to my car and let myself in. I made my way to the precinct, mildly interested to see the feds didn’t have me tailed.
I understood why they’d let me go about two seconds after pulling into the parking lot. Russo stood outside against his car, a winter coat tucked around his normal suit and tie. He held a tray of coffees in hand. He raised them in greeting as I parked.
“Your mother wasn’t in the café this morning,” Russo said. “But I ordered your usual spread, and the gal behind the counter seemed to know what I meant.”
“Elizabeth,” I said. “She knows even better than my mother.”
Russo handed one of four large coffees to me. I gratefully cupped the latte in my chilled fingers, then glanced at the others.
“Flat white for Melinda,” he said. “And I don’t know what the hell this is, but Elizabeth says it’s for Jimmy.”
I grinned at Russo. “You’re learning.”
“I figured I had some making up to do after last night.”
“Don’t say that too loudly,” I said as we made our way to the precinct. “People might get the wrong idea.”
“If only you’d let me inside your house.” Russo winked, stepping ahead of me to open the door despite a full set of hands. “What’s on our agenda for the day, boss?”
I gave him a flimsy smile. “Find Sarah?”
“Great. And how do we do that?”
We paced through the department and landed at Jimmy’s desk. Russo handed over the latte and Jimmy glanced up with newfound interest at the fed.
“Is this a bribe?” Jimmy asked.
“Depends,” Russo said. “Did it work?”
Jimmy grunted.
“I’m waiting on an update from Asha on the guards,” I said. “If we can figure out who helped Wilkes get out, maybe that’ll give us insights as to where he might’ve holed up. Melinda’s starting the autopsy this morning on Parcel. I doubt she’ll discover much we haven’t already surmised. The best we can hope for is that she’ll find something that will point us in the direction of Wilkes’s hidey-hole. While Melinda’s doing that, I think we should interview Warren’s family as well as Sarah’s.”
“You don’t think they were random choices?” Russo asked.
“I don’t think Jonathan Tate was a random choice in LaCrosse,” I said. “Which leads me to believe he had a reason for choosing Parcel, as well.”
“I can think of one reason he chose them.” Jimmy set his latte down and crossed his arms over his sizeable stomach. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Kate. The murder happened a stone’s throw from your house. Parcel was probably chosen because of his location.”
“He’s got a point,” Russo said. When I didn’t respond, he moved closer and lowered his voice. “Kate? Is everything okay?”
With a shaky hand, I reached for my pocket. “There’s something I need to show the two of you.”
Russo and Jimmy exchanged a look as I pulled the envelope out of my pocket and dropped it o
nto the desk. Russo moved first, pulling a glove on as he reached for it. His lips drew to a thin line as he laid eyes on the name written across the front.
Russo popped the envelope open, flicked the note wide, and read the inscription. His face didn’t change as he handed it over to Jimmy who had followed Russo’s lead and gloved up as well.
Jimmy hissed a low curse before setting it back on the table, carefully, as if it were a bomb. “When’d that arrive?”
“Last night,” I said. “Or early this morning. When I got home after Bellini’s.”
“Did he hand-deliver it to you?” Jimmy asked.
I shrugged. “It was on my front porch.”
“The inside or the outside?” Jimmy pressed, not fooled by my vague indifference.
“Just inside the door.”
“You could have said something last night.” Russo was obviously trying to keep his voice even. “We were sitting outside. If we’d known...”
“What? If you’d known I’d gotten a love letter from Wilkes, then what?” I retorted. “You would have wanted to come inside the house and set up shop outside my bedroom. Not happening.”
“Kate, this isn’t just any case.” Jimmy peered over at Russo. “I never thought I’d be siding with a suit over my partner, but... I want to keep my partner alive.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Anyway, I thought this might be relevant to the case. Jimmy, are you sitting in on the autopsy this morning?”
“I was planning on it.”
“Will you run this down to the lab? Russo and I will get started on family and friend interviews, unless you want to come with.”
Jimmy shoved to his feet and put the envelope into an evidence baggie. “I’ll catch up with you when you’re back. I’ll pow wow with Asha on Sarah Belmont and Warren Parcel to see if we can get any connections to Wilkes beyond sheer location and convenience.”
The three of us parted ways. While Jimmy headed downstairs, I followed Russo outside to his car. It was a testament to how distracted I was by the events of the previous night that I didn’t bother to argue about whose turn it was to drive.
