The Heart of a Killer

by Jaci Burton

  There was such power, such passion in his eyes, but this time, she refused to look away, refused to do anything but meet that power head-on as he lifted up and slammed against her. She reveled in it as the force of his thrusts sent her over the edge. She climaxed with a wild cry, and he went with her, groaning and taking her lips in a hot kiss that shot her orgasm even higher. She'd never felt sensations like this, borne of passion that met emotion.

  Breathless, she could only hold on as the waves continued to pound at her from every part of her body until she had nothing left, until she fell, lax and boneless. Dante lifted off and lay next to her, panting as hard as she was.

  He grasped her hand and laced his fingers with hers. The contact was so sweet she didn't know what to do with it, so she lay there, staring up at the ceiling, unused to this brightly lit aftermath. Usually it was dark and whatever guy she was with would be in as big a hurry to dress and get away from her as she was to get away from him. There would be no words, no cuddling, just mumbled pleasantries and a quick escape.

  Instead, Dante shifted and pulled her leg on top of his body, then laid his palm on her stomach, tracing invisible patterns over her skin. He didn't seem in any hurry to escape.

  "You're thinking again."

  She turned her head to look at him. "Yeah."

  "Can't you just take a minute to enjoy the moment without analyzing what it means?"

  "It would be a first for me if I did."

  He drew circles around her navel. "Try."

  "Everything's changed now."

  "Between us, you mean."

  "Yes."

  "It's supposed to. When this happens between a couple, things change. You can't avoid it."

  She turned on her side to face him. "I wasn't ready for it."

  His lips quirked. "You can't plan for everything, Anna. Sometimes things happen."

  "I know that. In my line of work, I react to the unexpected."

  "But this isn't work. This is your life. And you like your life to be orderly and planned out because it's the one aspect you can control."

  She frowned. "I hate when you do that."

  "What?"

  "Seem to know so much about me when you've been gone so long. Am I that easy to figure out?"

  "No, but you aren't so different from before. You think you are, but you aren't. You always liked your life orderly, and you liked controlling the situation. That much about you hasn't changed. Everything about who you were didn't change that night twelve years ago, Anna."

  Huh. Interesting.

  She thought it had. She thought everything about her had been altered by that one act. She'd always felt her entire personality had undergone a radical transformation, that she'd become someone completely different. "Really?"

  "Really. You're still the same Anna now as you were back then. Yeah, you grew up. We all did. And parts of you changed. You have to because of what happened. But who you are in here--" He laid his hand on her chest, over her scar. "The soul of you. That's still Anna, the same Anna I've always known."

  Somehow, that gave her a great deal of peace.

  Seventeen

  Anna and Dante worked diligently the next day on the list of Tony Maclin's friends. Several were clean-cut, average students who were so far away from the drug element that after running a diligent background check they were easy to eliminate from the suspect list. A few had moved out of state, one lived out of the country, and two had died together in a car accident during college.

  That left four who were questionable and who lived locally. Anna brought Roman in on the list of names.

  After the three of them ate lunch in one of the interrogation rooms, they divvied up the four names and decided to head out separately to do interviews.

  "I don't think Anna should go alone," Roman said. "Whoever is doing these killings might be tailing her."

  She bristled. "I refuse to have a watchdog or bodyguard. You two should be more concerned about yourselves."

  "And you need a partner," Roman argued. "Neither of us had someone leaving us love notes and flowers."

  They walked out to the parking lot and Anna turned to stop them. "The notes and flowers were left when I wasn't around. Whoever it is doesn't want to face me."

  "Right now he doesn't," Dante said. "But that could change anytime."

  "We'll get through this list faster if we split up. And I don't want to change routine."

  She knew Dante warred with his protective, Neanderthal instincts, but she lifted her chin and refused to back down.

  "Fine, but you stay in touch at all times."

  She hadn't realized how tense she was until he gave in. "And I'll take two of the names on the list," Roman said, snatching two files.

  "Fine. We'll meet back here afterward."

  "At least check in with me when you're on the road?" Dante asked.

  She nodded, surprised when he came over to her and yanked her against him to press his lips to hers. "Talk to you soon."

  She blew out a breath and laid her hand on his chest. "Was that absolutely necessary to do in public?"

  His lips curled. "Yeah, I think it was."

  She watched him walk away, enjoying the fine view of his ass before turning to see Roman's quirked brow.

  When Dante drove away, Roman turned to her.

  "A change in your relationship?"

  "I don't want to talk about it." She walked toward her car, but Roman followed, so she stopped, turned to face him.

  "I trust Dante," she said before he asked the question.

  "Why?"

  "We talked, got some truths out."

  "Yeah? What did he tell you?"

  Things she couldn't tell him. "I just do. You know me, Roman. I don't lay my trust on someone easily."

  He shrugged. "I guess you know best. I still want you to be careful."

  She laid her hand on his arm. "I know you do, and I appreciate you looking out for me."

  "I always will, Anna, no matter who it is. But just because you trust him doesn't mean I will."

  "Fair enough."

  "You be careful out there."

  "I will."

  Evan Amarola, the guy on her list to check out, apparently had moved out of his family's home in the Kirkwood area and now lived with three of his buddies in a four-family flat off Grand, which was a far cry from the suburbs.

  These were older homes, some in disrepair, and not a lot of trust in the faces of people as she drove by and parked.

  The grandmother of one of Evan's buddies owned the fourplex. She was a suspicious old woman with pink curlers in her hair, a faded flowered cotton housecoat and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She left the screen door locked when she answered the door.

  "What do you want?"

  "Is Evan here?" Anna asked, flashing her badge.

  The woman, Mrs. Baker, squinted as she read the badge. She wrinkled up her leathered face even more. "What'd he do now?"

  "Nothing, as far as I know. I'd like to ask him some questions about a friend of his."

  "One of these other losers who lives with my grandson?"

  "No, ma'am. Someone he went to high school with."

  "Eh. I guess you can come in. He's still in bed. Let me go kick him."

  Anna opened the screen door and stepped in.

  The house smelled like cat pee, cigarettes and not-recently bathed old woman. Anna was grateful for her strong stomach, because the three together were a lethal combination.

  Three cats wound their way around her legs, and she saw evidence of a few more skirting in and around the furniture.

  "You can sit down if you want," Mrs. Baker said, the cigarette still clenched between her teeth.

  Given the stench in the room, there was no way in hell Anna was going to sit on the furniture. "I don't intend to stay long, but thank you."

  "Want some coffee?"

  Anna's stomach lurched. "I'm good, thanks."

  Mrs. Baker shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm going in the
kitchen to work my puzzles. The kid'll be out in a minute."

  Anna stood in the center of stink central and waited, trying to hold her breath.

  Fortunately it wasn't too long before a barefoot guy in jeans and no shirt yawned and headed down the hall. His short hair stuck up in all directions and he looked like hell.

  "You wanted to see me?"

  "You Evan Amarola?"

  "Yeah."

  "I need to ask you some questions about Tony Maclin."

  Evan cocked his head and frowned. "Tony? That was like, ten years ago or somethin'."

  "Twelve," Anna corrected.

  "I didn't have nothin' to do with that."

  "Didn't say you did. What I'm interested in is who he was hanging out with at the time of his death."

  "Oh. Well, shit, I don't remember. Tony had lotsa friends."

  "Any sell him drugs or get him involved in drug dealing?"

  "Drugs? Probably. Tony was pretty stressed about college and it started to freak him out. He was different senior year."

  "How different?"

  "Nervous. On the go all the time. Started missing school. He was always really good with his classes, but they didn't seem to matter to him anymore."

  "You ever see him do drugs?"

  Evan looked hesitant.

  "Whatever you have to say isn't going to hurt the guy now," she reminded him. "He's dead."

  "Yeah, I saw him do some coke and E at some parties. And before school he smoked a little pot to relax."

  "Would you say he was doing drugs every day?" Anna asked.

  "Maybe."

  "Who was his dealer?"

  "I don't know."

  Anna wondered what Evan did know. According to the information she'd been able to dig up, he and Tony were close. Closer than Evan was letting on based on his answers. "Did he seem to have drugs on him pretty regularly?"

  "Yeah."

  "Did someone at school deal?"

  "I don't know. I didn't do drugs."

  Anna gave Evan a sidelong look. "You know, considering you've been in and out of jail for the past twelve years, and all of them on drug and theft charges, I'm going to have a hard time believing that answer, Evan. Want to try again?"

  "Okay, maybe I did party a little. But I wasn't dealing."

  "I'm not accusing you of being his dealer. I'm also not trying to pin anything on you. What I need is to figure out who Tony's source was back then."

  "Why?"

  "You don't need to know the answer to that," she said. "But I'd sure appreciate the help."

  She could see the wheels turning in Evan's mind.

  "Yeah? What could I get for this information?"

  "Nothing. Other than me not coming back here every day to hassle you."

  His face fell. "Oh."

  "You either know the answer to the question or you don't. If you do, I'll keep coming back here, or bring you down to the station, until I get the answer I'm looking for. It'd be a lot easier to get it now. Then I leave and you don't see me anymore. Trust me, you don't want me getting familiar with you and what you do in your leisure time."

  "I don't remember his name," Evan said in a hurry. "He was a college student though, some guy who graduated from our high school a few years ahead of us. All the kids used him."

  "Do you know what college he went to?"

  "Wash U. He was a med school student there." Evan grinned. "I think he was paying his way through medical school by dealing at some of the high schools."

  It shouldn't take much investigating to figure out who the guy was.

  "Thanks, Evan."

  For the first time since this whole nightmare began, Anna had a speck of hope. She climbed into her car and headed out.

  When she pulled onto the street, she noticed another car pulling out from the curb, going in the same direction as her. Normally she wouldn't think that strange--probably someone who lived in the area, except when she turned north, so did the car. When she changed lanes, so did the car behind her.

  To test her theory, she made a right turn at the next stoplight.

  As did the car behind her.

  She kept her movements normal, didn't speed up or slow down or appear to be looking in her rearview mirror. She wanted to make sure she wasn't simply being paranoid.

  Damn Roman and Dante for putting those kinds of thoughts in her head, but it wouldn't hurt to be careful.

  It was a greenish-colored Jeep, older model, kind of beat up. She wasn't going to call it in until she knew for sure, because if she did and it turned out to be nothing she'd be ribbed for being paranoid.

  Then again, there was a killer on the loose, and she was a possible target. She probably wasn't being paranoid enough.

  She made another turn, this time right again, doubling back to where she'd started out.

  The car, which had managed to stay within a few cars of her, made the right turn again.

  She turned left next time onto Arsenal and headed west.

  He followed.

  At the first street she could she turned into Tower Grove Park, figuring if this was coincidence he'd go straight.

  The two cars between them passed, and he turned into the park.

  She pulled over. So did he.

  Heart pumping, she called it in, including his tag number, then got out of her car, her hand on her gun.

  He was already getting out of his car. When she recognized him, her heart rate sped up.

  "Stay in your vehicle."

  "I need to talk to you."

  "Get back in your car, goddammit."

  He kept coming toward her. Why the hell was Sam Maclin following her?

  "Sam, get in your car or I'm arresting you."

  He stopped, held his hands up. "For what? For wanting to talk to you? For asking you why you came to my house to harass my mother?"

  "Turn around and put your hands on the hood of your car."

  "Jesus Christ."

  He laid his hands on the hood of the car. She came up behind him and kicked his legs apart, grabbed a wrist and slapped handcuffs on it, then the other. Then she turned him around to face her.

  He was just as angry now as he had been when she and Dante had come to see him and his mother.

  "Why are you following me?"

  "To tell you to back the hell off my mother."

  "You could have handled that with a phone call."

  He smirked at her. The bastard. "It's more effective in person."

  "Is that a threat?"

  "I'm not threatening anyone. You upset my mother by dredging up Tony's murder. She's not sleeping again, taken to wandering the house at night. Leave it alone."

  She studied him. "Any particular reason you want me to leave it alone?"

  Could he be the one leaving notes on her car? Could he be the killer?

  "Yeah. I just told you. It upsets my mother. When she's upset she can't paint."

  She stepped closer. "How long have you been following me?"

  "I came to the station to talk to you, saw you leave, decided to follow."

  "Uh-huh. Like I said, a phone call would have been easier."

  "And like I said, it's not as effective. Figured I could talk you out of reopening my brother's case if I talked to you in person. A phone call just wouldn't do it."

  He had attitude coming out his ears, and a demeanor she just didn't like. "You're a real smart-ass, Maclin."

  A black-and-white screamed into the park and slid to a stop in front of them.

  Sam caught sight of the squad car and shot a glare at her. "Great. So now you're going to arrest me for what? For wanting to talk to you about my mom and my brother?"

  "There are friendlier ways to have done it, Sam. And you were the one harassing me. You don't follow a police officer."

  "You want us to take care of this creep?" one of the uniforms asked.

  She studied Sam. He had no fear in his eyes as he glowered at her, ignoring the uniforms. If he'd exhibited even one ounce of fear, she'
d have let him go with a warning. But without that, he freaked her out.

  Killers showed no fear.

  "Take him in," she said, grabbing his arm and handing him over to Lincoln.

  "You'll be sorry," Sam said as the officer took him away.

  She ignored him and slid back in her car, then headed toward the precinct.

  Dante was already back at the station when she arrived. She grabbed a cup of coffee and sat at her desk.

  "My guy didn't pan out," Dante said. "He was like a saint, so squeaky-clean I felt dirty interviewing him."

  Anna nodded. "Well, I guess that's too bad."

  "What did you find?"

  "Cat pee, stale cigarettes and unbathed old lady."

  Dante made a sour face. "Fun. Did you get anything out of it other than that?"

  "I did," she said, and gave him a rundown of what Amarola had told her.

  Dante nodded. "That's a solid lead. Now we need to find Dr. Drug Dealer."

  "Yeah. Also, I was followed on the way back."

  "What?" Dante sat up in the chair. "By who?"

  "Sam Maclin."

  Dante's eyes narrowed. "Son of a bitch. You grab him?"

  She took a sip of her coffee and nodded. "He's in holding."

  Dante stood. "I want to talk to him."

  She grabbed his arm. "Not right now. I want him to cool his heels for a while. He's got an attitude."

  She knew that wasn't Dante's first choice, and from the look on his face it was probably a good idea not to let him anywhere near Sam at all.

  "What did he say to you?"

  "To back off his mother and the reopening of the investigation."

  "Huh. He couldn't have called you?"

  Funny that they were on the same wavelength. "That's the same question I asked him."

  Dante stared at the back of the precinct toward the holding cells. "Is he worried about his mother or himself?"

  "That's what I'm wondering. You think he was in the alley that night?"

  "It's possible. He was fifteen at the time. File says he was at home. And he sometimes ran with the same crowd as Tony."

  "Guess we should check that out."

  "Check what out?" Roman asked as he came in. "Did you get a lead?"

  "Yes, and that isn't what we're talking about." Anna filled him in on what she found out from Evan Amarola, and what happened with Sam.

  "He tailed you? That's suspicious as hell, especially after the roses and cards. We need to figure out where he was the nights of the murders."

  "I'm going to go talk to him," she said, grabbing her notebook and a pen.

  "I'll do some backtracking on his whereabouts the nights of the murders," Roman said.

  "His mother isn't going to like that."

  "And?" Dante asked. "You're not trying to be her friend. You're trying to solve a case."