“The other body was also positioned,” Dylan said, sliding a different folder across the table. “Killers don’t usually pose bodies, so yeah, I assume he’s trying to tell us something. Since the positioning is so different on all three of these, I have no idea what it could be.”
“When was the first victim found again?”
“Three months ago.”
Hmm. That was when his mother had started making a menace of herself, insisting Dylan was in danger. Oh, but Alexandra would love to talk to her right now.
He spread open a file and tapped a report. “Second victim was end of August. Third victim was yesterday.”
“So one every month? Any significance to the days?”
“What do you mean?”
“Were they found exactly one month apart or what?”
He shrugged. “Give or take a few days.” His eyes narrowed. “You think he’s on some kind of schedule?”
“I don’t know, Dylan. It might not be a bad idea to see what days the full moons were on.”
“Whoa.”
She glanced up at him. “What?”
“I know two of them were killed on the night of a full moon. I didn’t make that connection until now.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and began pacing. “I remember the first one. Reedus made a comment about the full moon bringing out the lunatics. Last night, I noticed the moon looked full.”
Alexandra reached for her phone and did an Internet search to verify the dates of the last three full moons. “Interesting. They were all killed on full moons.”
“Let me see that.” He stepped close and reached for her phone. Alexandra immediately grew aware of his warmth, his scent, his—
Stop it! He is your boss’s brother! No more touching!
Dylan glanced up, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. His eyes danced with excitement. Excitement that quickly took on a new focus when he seemed to realize how close they were standing. He stepped away.
He cleared his throat. “This is good. This means he probably won’t try to kill again until next month, end of October. Gives us time.”
“Halloween.” Alexandra reached for the newest file and skimmed the crime scene photos in it. A man’s body was propped from the waist up against the wall in an alley, his legs sprawled out in front of him on the cobblestone walkway. Spray-painted in black next to his head was one word. Reaper.
“So that’s his moniker,” she decided. “He wants to be known as the Grim Reaper.”
“Seems like it.”
“Okay.” She wiggled her shoulders to shake out the tension creeping in at that disturbing thought. “I’m going to concentrate now and see if I can find anyone who knows something that will help. I’m going to let them in now.”
Dylan straightened from his position leaning against the table. “Let them in?” His voice was skeptical again.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Not literally. I don’t ever allow them to take over my body. Now shut up so I can think for a minute.”
He crossed his arms, but said nothing else. Man, he was sexy when he did that. All brooding and hot.
Focus on the case, not on Mr. Delicious.
Alexandra closed her eyes and thought of the wall she’d erected in her head. She cracked it open and felt an electric jolt course through her veins like liquid fire. The word COPYCAT flashed in her mind along with DEATH over and over again. Several scenes from various, violent slasher films played in her head, and she felt pleasure at seeing them.
This guy must really love horror movies.
She could feel warm breath tease her ear as a woman’s voice whispered, “He’s always been fascinated by death. He’s fascinated by this city. It called to him, and he came. There was another…another he killed, just to see if he could actually do it.”
Her eyes opened, but she saw no one standing at her side. Clearing her throat, she repeated everything for Dylan’s sake.
“Copycat?” He sat down on the edge of the table. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I’m just telling you what I’m getting. I don’t understand it either.”
“Go on.”
She took a deep breath and paced along the length of the conference table. Nothing else was coming to her. The voice was gone, and so were the images. Slowly she completely lifted the wall.
Candice, you can trust me. I want to talk to you about your death. Will you help me catch your killer?
She spun at the end of the table and turned to pace the other way. The feeling of almost colliding with someone standing in front of her caused her to correct herself and step back. She lifted her gaze as her hands instinctively reached out to grab hold of the person she’d bumped into.
Candice Christopher was even more beautiful in death than she’d been in the college honors portrait attached to her file. Her long, red hair was pulled back from her face, and Alexandra recognized the clothes the younger woman wore as the same from the crime scene photos. The same clothes she’d been wearing at the café.
Okay. Here we go.
“What happened to me?” Candice’s voice trembled.
Alexandra wished Dylan weren’t in the room, because she never liked to converse with the dead with skeptics present. But this time, she made an exception.
“I’m so sorry. You’re dead.”
Candice’s eyes lowered to the floor, and she nodded. “Yes. That’s what I thought.”
“Excuse me? I’m what? ” Dylan said, and Alexandra shot him an impatient look along with a forceful “Shhhhh.” Didn’t he realize she wasn’t talking to him? Geez.
“I’m trying to help find the person who did this to you,” Alexandra said more gently to the ghost. “Can you tell me what you remember? Can you show me?”
Candice’s unblinking eyes fixated on Alexandra’s, and she nodded.
A flash of bright light temporarily blinded Alexandra, and she blinked her vision back into focus. The daylight was fading, the glow of orange glistening on the gray-blue ocean water just beyond the railing. Candice laughed over the backdrop of old beach music. A singer whined out the melody of “Good Vibrations” by the Beach Boys, and Alexandra turned to see a live band of young people playing on a makeshift stage while dancers whirled around her. She spun in a full circle and recognized that she was on a pier.
“I’ve really got to get home,” Candice told someone, drawing Alexandra’s attention back to her. “I’ll call you later.”
With a wave toward a group of three women, Candice began walking down the long dock, her flip flops making a distinct whack-whack sound against the wood. Alexandra followed, even though she knew her feet weren’t moving. On and on the young woman walked, as if the pier kept on for miles instead of the thousand or so feet it probably was, the music growing more and more distant.
Candice reached the end of the pier, which felt deserted and bereft. Her flip flops quieted when she stepped on sand. She turned suddenly at the sound of an animal’s whining. She bent and moved closer to the underbelly of the pier. The daylight had faded so much by now that only shadows could be seen.
Candice clicked her tongue several times. “Puppy?”
The whining continued, luring Candice deeper into the darkness as she cooed and pleaded for the unseen animal not to be afraid. The hair on the back of Alexandra’s neck suddenly lifted as goosebumps chased each other down her arms. She wanted to yell at Candice not to move any closer, but it was too late.
Candice disappeared into the shadows, and Alexandra followed. A pair of gloved hands snaked out of the shadows and snatched the young woman by her shoulders, dragging her further under the dock. Candice’s screams mingled with the howling horn and throbbing percussions in the distance as she fought against her attacker. She tore away from him and ran, sloshing through the surf beneath the pier, but the killer was fast and tackled her at the water’s edge. Alexandra watched in horror as the dark-clad shape of a man plunged a hypodermic needle into her arm from behind and injected somet
hing into her system. Candice continued to claw her way toward the water, her movements slowing until eventually her head lowered into the ebb and flow of the ocean’s edge. A bubble broke the surface, and then she went completely still.
“Alexandra!”
Alexandra felt a cough tear through her chest, and she realized she was clutching her throat with one hand and her chest with the other. Why couldn’t she breathe? Dylan had both hands on her shoulder and was shaking her, hard.
“Alexandra! Are you okay?”
She struggled to pull air into of her lungs and whispered “Yes,” feeling more than a little disoriented to see the plain beige walls of the conference room instead of the ocean and sand.
“What the hell was that about?” Dylan’s fingers gripped into her upper arms. He tried to push her into a chair, but she resisted.
“I know how she was killed, and where.”
He narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Leaving no detail unmentioned, she explained everything she’d just witnessed. Dylan finally let his hands fall away from her.
He swore and turned on his heels.
“What?” she demanded. “You don’t believe me?”
He placed his hands on his hips and spun back toward her. “That matches information I haven’t had time to put in her file yet. She was last seen at Folly Beach Pier, but her car was found a block away from the cemetery, about half an hour away from the pier. A witness told us they saw her driving away, but maybe…” His voice trailed off.
“Maybe they saw her car, but not her.” Alexandra stepped closer. “She was killed at that pier, Dylan. I know it.”
He nodded. “It would explain the ocean water in her lungs.”
“So you believe me?”
He stared at her for several seconds. “I’m keeping an open mind.”
Happiness rushed through Alexandra at his hard-earned admission, although she didn’t know why. It was always a high when someone came to appreciate her abilities, but she’d never felt so excited about it. Why did she care so much what this man thought of her? She barely knew him. Except in the Biblical sense.
There was a knock on the door, distracting Alexandra from her inappropriate thoughts. A uniformed officer opened the door and gestured at Dylan. “There’s a call for you, Collins. Person insists you’ll want to talk to him about the Christopher case. He refuses to leave a message. You want to take it, or—?”
“I’ll take it. Transfer it to my desk.” He told Alexandra, “Excuse me for a minute.” And then he left her alone.
***
Dylan made it to his desk before the first ring. Snatching up the receiver, he barked, “Detective Collins. I understand you have some information about a case I’m working on?”
Heavy breathing was the only response.
“Hello?” Sinking into his chair, Dylan lifted his hand and rubbed at his forehead. He was tired. Damn tired. He was grateful it was almost six o’clock, and that Alexandra would be leaving soon for the day. He hoped. The woman was a major distraction on multiple levels, and he could use some distance right about now. Distance to regroup and think. And sleep. Man, he hoped he could sneak in a nap after a quick bite to eat. “Hello? Anyone there?”
“I’m here,” a raspy voice responded softly. A man’s voice. Distorted.
Dylan waited for more, but the heavy breathing was all he got. “Look, I’m pretty busy at the moment. Do you have information to share, or can I transfer you back to our front desk so you can be redirected to the right person?”
“I’m calling you about the Grim Reaper.”
Every cell in Dylan’s body snapped to alert. The Grim Reaper info hadn’t been released to the public. “I’m listening.”
“Are you, Detective Collins? Or are you too busy playing with your new girlfriend to appreciate my offerings?”
“Who is this?”
A sinister laugh trickled down the line. “None other than the Reaper himself, of course. I wanted to let you know how pleased I am that you brought in Alexandra King so soon. It pleases me very much.”
Dylan looked around and spotted Reedus. He lifted his arm and snapped his fingers, then gestured to the phone. When Reedus got close enough, Dylan wrote on a piece of paper, This might be our killer. Get me a trace. He leaned closer to the phone and said, “Who?”
“I recognized her last night, when you met in the bar. Tell me, detective, is that how you pay your consultants? By sleeping with them?”
Dylan stifled a curse. Whoever this guy was, he knew a lot of information.
“Who says she’s a consultant?”
“I don’t have time for games. I have one demand to make, and then I have to hang up.”
“Okay. I’ll bite. What?”
“Release my name to the media. I want to see my name on the news by tomorrow. If I don’t, you won’t be pleased with the results.”
A click preceded a dial tone, and Dylan swore. “Did we get a trace?” He directed the comment at no one in particular, but Reedus lowered the phone receiver in his hand and shook his head from across the room. He slammed his phone down.
“He was using an unregistered mobile, one of those prepaid ones.” Reedus coughed as he hurried over. “We didn’t have him on long enough to triangulate the call.”
This guy was smart. Too smart.
How the devil had the caller known so much about Alexandra? Was she an accomplice to this whole thing? How else had the caller known who she was?
He swore again.
His gut told him she wasn’t involved, but he’d have to run a more thorough background check after this. Where had she been at the time of the first murder? And if she wasn’t an accomplice, then she was a potential target.
And neither scenario pleased him.
Chapter Five
Alexandra heard the buzz of her phone vibrating against the table and pulled her purse close to find it. Oh, man. Probably Hannah. She’d forgotten to check in with Hannah that morning, but when she glanced at the caller ID and saw a photo of Dylan’s older brother on the screen instead, she immediately jerked her wide eyes toward the door.
What the heck was Zach calling her for? Now?
“Hey, boss,” she answered and paced toward the other end of the room, never mind she was alone, the door was closed, and no one could hear her conversation anyway. “This is not really a good time.”
“It’s important, Alexandra.”
“Ohhh-kay. What’s up?”
“I hope you can tell me.” His voice sounded tense. Almost accusing.
Crap. He’d figured out where she was and what she was doing. Or someone had told him. Probably Abbot, that devious cat, or Costello, Hannah’s dog who was allegedly too dumb to keep a secret. Maybe it had been Charlie, Hannah’s youngest pup, who adored Zach something fierce. It sucked having a pet psychic around when you were trying to—
“Something’s going on with Hannah,” Zach continued before she could finish the thought. “She’s acting kind of secretive. What do you know, King? Spill it.”
Oh. Ohhh.
Crap.
She crossed her fingers behind her back and flat-out lied to the man. “I don’t know. What do you mean?” She gave a quick look toward the door. Still closed.
“She excused herself last night to call someone, and now she’s having a hard time looking me in the eyes.” He made an annoyed sound. “What’s going on, Alexandra? Before you answer, remember I sign your damn paychecks.”
He made a good point, but Hannah and Hannah’s best friend, Sarah, had welcomed Alexandra into their girls club with open arms. She’d never had two better friends in her life. Where did her loyalty lie? With the guy who’d gotten her fired from his TV show because he’d felt threatened by her since he hadn’t yet realized his own abilities? Granted, he had made amends by giving her a job at his new firm.
She resisted a snort. No contest.
She uncrossed her fingers and began pacing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Col
lins. Why don’t you ask the boys?”
The boys was how everyone referenced Hannah’s pets because they were practically the woman’s children. Alexandra suspected Zach was an empath—a rarity among psychics—but his abilities seemed especially sensitive to animals. He’d proven he could communicate with Hannah’s animals time and time again.
“I have,” he bit out. “They’re not telling me and that makes me even more suspicious.” He lowered his voice. “I gave Abbott extra tuna, but all he said was ‘Maybe I know something. Maybe I don’t.’ I mean, what the hell?”
Alexandra bit her lip to keep from snickering. Hannah had said she was going to give Abbott extra tuna for a few days to assure his loyalty, and the cat and Zach had a tumultuous relationship anyway. Abbott probably spent his days planning how to get more tuna from Zach.
Under normal circumstance she would have never suggested this, but…
“Have you tried reading Hannah then?” Oh, this was too much fun. Alexandra had been teaching Hannah how to block Zach from picking up on her feelings, and Hannah was good at it.
“Of course I have. Why do you think I’m calling you? I’m not getting anything, except for a wall. Maybe I’m doing something wrong?”
Alexandra smiled, and her muscles relaxed a little. “Maybe you’re just being paranoid, Zach. Did you ever consider that?” Oh, she was bad for toying with him like this. Bad, bad, bad.
He growled. “Just tell me one thing. Is she seeing someone else?”
“What?” Alexandra abruptly stopped moving, the question shocked her so much. Then she laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Zach. Hannah would never cheat on you. For some insane reason, that woman thinks you’re the male equivalent of a hot fudge sundae.” She snorted to emphasize her disagreement with that assessment. His brother, on the other hand…
Something Wicked: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense Page 6
