The Heart of a Killer

by Jaci Burton

  She stopped, realized what she'd been doing. Her first thought was how this would affect Susan Maclin because she'd already lost one son. What was she thinking?

  She had no objectivity here. She lifted her gaze to Dante. "You're right."

  Roman laid a hand on her arm. "You interview Sam first, see what you can get from him about the nights of the murders. We'll go from there. I'll do the background on him."

  "Okay."

  They called for Sam to be brought into an interrogation room. He didn't look any less subdued after spending some time in holding. In fact, he looked more pissed off than ever, and focused his glare on Anna.

  "He's got a bug up his ass about you," Dante whispered as they entered the room.

  "So I noticed." She and Dante took a seat across from Sam.

  "You've been read your rights and you understand those rights?" Anna asked.

  "Yeah."

  "I understand you waived your right to have an attorney present for questioning?"

  He shrugged. "I didn't do anything wrong. What do I need a lawyer for?"

  "We need to know your whereabouts on the nights of June twenty-third and June twenty-seventh."

  "Why?"

  "Do you know where you were those nights?"

  He shrugged. "Probably in my studio working on some art."

  "Do you know that for a fact?"

  "No, but that's usually where I am. I'm working on a project, so I've been spending a lot of time in there. Why?"

  "Two people were killed in the same alley your brother was killed in."

  "Huh. So?"

  Wasn't he a real bleeding heart. "They were beaten to death, just like Tony."

  He leaned back in his chair. "Again. So? What does this have to do with my brother?"

  "That's what we'd like to know," Dante said.

  He shrugged again, refusing to look at Dante and keeping his gaze focused only on Anna. "People get killed all the time, especially in the city."

  "That's hardly a high-crime area," Anna said. "And to be beaten severely in the same manner as your brother, in the same location, isn't a coincidence."

  A flicker of interest lit in his eyes. He sat straighter in the chair. "So you're saying whoever did these murders is the same person who killed Tony?"

  "I'm not saying that."

  "So what am I doing here, and why are you talking to me about it?"

  She let the question linger in the air, until recognition dawned in his eyes.

  "Are you fucking kidding me? I had nothing to do with those murders. I was working at the time."

  "Can anyone verify that?" she asked.

  "Yeah. My mother."

  "Someone other than a family member?" Dante added.

  He rolled his eyes. "The studio is at the house. So no, no one else but her."

  "That's too bad," Anna said, feeling a small twinge of guilt for going after yet another member of the Maclin family. Then again, he'd come after her today, and in doing so put himself on her radar. He had no one to blame but himself.

  "You've put yourself in a bad position, Maclin," Dante said. He stood and walked around the table to Sam's side, then stared down at him. "You harassed and threatened the detective here, and you have a connection to a prior crime in the alley with a similar method of death."

  "What connection? Because he was my brother?"

  "Because you can't verify your whereabouts on the night your brother was murdered, and now these murders. Doesn't look good for you."

  Now the venom in his eyes was directed at Dante. "This is bullshit. You're trying to railroad me because you don't have any other suspects."

  "And you're trying to deflect because you killed the two men. Maybe you even had something to do with your own brother's death that night twelve years ago."

  Sam shot out of the chair and lunged at Dante. "You're full of shit!"

  Two uniformed officers hustled into the room to subdue Sam, cuffing him and slamming him into the chair.

  Dante hadn't even flinched, hadn't moved from his spot against the desk. He just smiled at Sam as he was restrained.

  Sam glared at Dante, then at Anna. "I want a lawyer."

  And just like that, the interview was over.

  "Sure," she said.

  She and Dante left the interview room and met up with Roman in the hall.

  "That was interesting," Roman said, coming in from the viewing area. "He's hiding something."

  Dante shrugged. "Maybe not. I was baiting him. It could be he was pissed off at the implication that he had something to do with his brother's death, which we all know he didn't."

  Anna nodded as they headed down the hall back to the main squad room. "But he might have had something to do with the current murders."

  She stopped. They were alone in the hall, so she lifted her gaze to Dante and Roman. "If he did, he's cagey. Doesn't appear to act as if he recognizes us."

  "A good killer wouldn't," Roman said. "He's not going to play his hand."

  She let out a sigh. "We'll see how this plays out."

  "Let the guilt go," Dante said as they moved back to the desk. "You want this case over with. If Sam's your guy, it's over."

  "And Susan Maclin would lose another son."

  "Neither of which would be your fault."

  She threw the notepad on her desk, irritated at herself for the knot in her stomach.

  Dante was right. This wasn't her fault.

  "You need to focus on something else," he said. "Let's find that medical student and work the drug-dealer angle."

  "You're right. What we need to do is figure out who was connected to Tony's high school who was also in medical school back then."

  Dante sat, crossed his legs at the ankles. "Shouldn't be too hard to narrow it down. Not a ton of people go to medical school."

  "That's what I figured, too." She turned to the desktop and started her search.

  Dante stood and leaned over her shoulder. "Is that the Wash U website?"

  "Yeah." She wrinkled her nose. "I was hoping it was going to be easy, but hell, it's hard to even get a list of staff and medical students. You have to know exactly who you're looking for."

  She searched a while longer, then shoved away from the desk and stood.

  "This is bullshit. We're getting nowhere."

  "And you're tense and not thinking clearly."

  She shot him a glare. "Don't tell me how I'm thinking. I'm as clear as I can be."

  "With the death of a friend on your mind and Sam Maclin added to the list. We'll call the school and get them to release the names of all graduates of Tony's high school within a specific date range who went to Washington University and attended medical school. Then we'll go from there."

  She nodded and made the call. When she hung up, she said, "They'll have it for us tomorrow."

  Maybe something would pop soon. It was about damn time.

  That evening she went home and changed into a dress to go to the funeral home for Jeff's visitation, something she dreaded but had to do.

  They all had to do it, and she took comfort in having Dante by her side.

  They met Roman and Gabe outside, both of them wearing suits just like Dante.

  Gabe came up to her and kissed her cheek. "You look beautiful."

  She'd worn a simple black sheath with short sleeves, nothing special, but still she smiled up at Gabe. "Thanks. And you all look classy in your suits. Jeff would have loved to see you dressed up like this, especially you, Gabe." Anna smoothed the lapels of his dark suit and fought back tears.

  "Aw, shit, Anna. Don't cry."

  She lifted her gaze to Gabe. "I don't know if I can do this."

  Roman smoothed his hand down her back. "They said the casket will be closed because... Well, you know."

  Anna turned to Roman and shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He's still in there and we all know it."

  Roman nodded. "But we're all together, and we'll handle it."

  Dante swept his hand behind
her neck. Even without words she felt comforted by his presence next to her as they all walked inside together.

  What was she going to do when this case was over and Dante left?

  She'd deal, just as she always did. She'd go back to the way her life was before he swept into town and turned her life upside down.

  No problem, right?

  Ellen Clemons was there, holding vigil in front of Jeff's casket. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Anna's heart went out to her.

  Anna hated funerals, hated that they represented loss. She'd hated them ever since her mother died of cancer when she was six years old. She hadn't understood then that her mother was gone and would never come back, but slowly it had sunk in that it was just her and her dad left. She'd never feel her mother's arms around her hugging her, never smell her mother's perfume, never see her mother's smile again.

  Death sucked. It ripped the people you loved away from you, sometimes well before you were ready for it to happen.

  Often way before you were ready for it.

  Sometimes brutally. She'd seen it plenty of times when she had to notify next of kin in a murder case she investigated, had seen families crumple when they were given the news about their son or husband or brother or sister. It was devastating.

  Losing Jeff to a sick killer? There was no reason for that, no way to explain it. No wonder those families fell apart when their loved ones were inexplicably taken away from them.

  As she tensed, Dante stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders and whispered in her ear.

  "Breathe. You can get through this."

  His touch, the sound of his voice, reminded her to stay in the here and now.

  "I'm fine."

  "Yes, you are. Did I mention you look incredibly sexy in black?"

  She turned to face him. "That's a totally inappropriate statement for this venue."

  A smile tugged at his lips. "It's never inappropriate to tell you you're beautiful. Now relax."

  She shook her head, but the rising panic had disappeared.

  Probably part of his plan. She'd have to thank him later.

  While she visited with those she knew and hung close to the guys, she also surveyed those who wandered in, wondering if Jeff's killer was here. Or maybe he'd be at the graveside service tomorrow. She planned to attend, not only to pay her respects, but to see who showed up.

  "See anyone who looks out of place?" Roman asked.

  She shook her head. "I don't know Jeff's friends, but we should make sure to have the funeral director make us a copy of the guest sign-in list."

  Roman nodded. "I'll go take care of that now."

  "How are you holding up?"

  She lifted her head and smiled as Gabe moved in next to her and slid his hand in hers. "I'm doing okay. Did I mention that you clean up nice?"

  Gabe looked so different, and yet not at all out of place in a dark suit, his hair combed back away from his face. She was so used to seeing him in a do-rag and tank top, with worn jeans and boots, his tattoos showing, that she almost couldn't accept him looking like a businessman.

  "What? I can do suits."

  She arched a brow. "Yes, you certainly can. You look very handsome."

  He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Makes you want to leave Dante and run off with me on my bike, doesn't it?"

  His comment caught her by surprise, and she laughed, nearly out loud. "Stop it, damn you. I'm supposed to be solemn."

  "Bullshit," Gabe said as Dante and Roman surrounded her. "Jeff wouldn't have wanted our tears. He'd have wanted us to laugh and celebrate his life."

  "I agree with that," Dante said. "And then he'd want us to kick the shit out of the son of a bitch who killed him."

  Roman nodded. "And that's our job, to make sure we catch the bastard who did this."

  They were right. Jeff wouldn't have wanted them to be down and depressed. "We'll catch him. In the meantime, we'll head out tonight and have a drink in Jeff's honor," she said.

  "And a roll of the dice at his favorite casino," Gabe said.

  Anna's lips curved. "Jeff would have liked that. I'm game."

  Despite the night starting out so badly, they'd had a great time at the casino, doing shots and shooting craps. By 2:00 a.m., though, Anna was yawning and barely able to keep her eyes open, so she and Dante left. Roman and Gabe decided to play on.

  Normally alert on caffeine and adrenaline, Anna was appalled to realize she'd fallen asleep on the way home. Having Dante in her life was making her lazy.

  But it was also nice, she realized as she laid her head on his shoulder when they walked to the front door, to have someone to lean on at the end of a really hard day. He opened the front door, flipped on the lights and did the customary search of her house.

  She yawned, though she woke herself enough to be alert for anything out of the ordinary. Everything in her house was secure, so she kicked off her shoes and fell onto her back on the center of the bed, letting her eyes drift shut.

  "I'm too tired to even get undressed."

  "So you're going to sleep like that? In the middle of the bed on top of the covers?"

  "Thinking about it."

  "I don't think so."

  "I'm immobile. You'll have to sleep on the couch."

  "Wanna bet?"

  "Yeah. How much you got?"

  He grabbed her feet and started rubbing them, and she moaned.

  "That's not going to get me off this bed. If anything it'll ensure I'll fall asleep faster."

  Except he moved from her feet to her calves. She felt the press of his body on the bed as he straddled her, his hands sliding under her dress to caress her thighs.

  She shivered.

  "Oh, that's nice. But I'm still not moving."

  He slid his hands higher, found her panties and drew them down her legs. All thoughts of sleep fled as her body came to life in a roar of desire, especially when he pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh.

  "I'm pretty sure," he murmured against her skin, "that I can get you to move."

  She shuddered out a sigh. "Give it your best shot."

  When he put his mouth on her, her hips shot up and she clenched the blanket, lifting against the heat and wet of his mouth. She could only think of the pleasure he gave her. He was the center of her universe right then.

  Yeah, he made her move, all right, made her rock against him until she shattered so fast her head spun.

  Then he was above her, his face so damn beautiful she had to reach up and touch him, to assure herself he was real, that she hadn't fallen asleep and dreamed all this.

  But when he kissed her, when his lips swept across her mouth and the velvet softness of his tongue rasped against hers, she knew it was real, that he was solid and hard and hot against her.

  This was life and she intended to celebrate it tonight. After all the death surrounding her for the past weeks, she wanted nothing more than to feel utterly, completely alive.

  Dante lifted her dress over her hips and slid inside her in one smooth movement that made her gasp, made her draw her knees up and plant her feet on the bed so she could rise to meet his thrusts.

  They were silent, but they didn't need to speak. Their bodies did all the talking as they moved in unison, both of them knowing exactly what to do, what to say to each other. It was as if they'd been doing this forever, not as if this was only the second time they'd made love.

  And when he gripped her hips and drove deep, she felt the hot stirrings of orgasm once again and raked her nails down his arms, demanding he give her that release.

  He stilled, smiled down at her and then lowered his body on hers, kissing her with an intensity that brought the climax she sought. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and rolled through the orgasm, felt his body tighten and held him as he came, this time not afraid of the intimacy. Instead, she needed it, needed to feel close to him, to feel him shuddering against her as she did against him.

  He stayed on top of her, his face buried in her neck as t
hey breathed together. It was almost as if there was something he wanted to say, but hesitated.

  She wondered what it was, because he rolled to his side and pulled her with him. She listened to the sound of his heartbeat, content to just be with him.

  "I like being with you, Anna."

  Somehow she didn't think that's what he'd wanted to say.

  She wondered what he really had on his mind.

  Dante had lived a solitary existence for so many years that getting close to Anna had come as a shock.

  Oh, sure, they'd been in love before, but that had been teenage love. And hell, what had he known about it back then? He'd had no example to learn from. He sure hadn't had much love and affection as a kid, no great parental guide of a loving couple to emulate. His time with George and Ellen had been short. He'd grasped the concept of a loving family, but they hadn't been his from the start. He hadn't trusted in the permanence of it. And then he'd had to leave.

  Life in the army and in Special Ops was all about working on his own. He hadn't put down roots, hadn't had time or opportunity to fall in love. His thoughts over the years had always come back to Anna, had always centered on her. He figured it had to do with the trauma she'd gone through and how guilty he felt over leaving her after that night. He never thought it had to do with love. He didn't know love.

  Now he wasn't so sure. Yeah, he felt protective, especially with a killer out there targeting all of them. She was vulnerable and he needed to make sure nothing happened to her.

  But what would happen after the killer was caught? And what about now?

  Making love to her was different than being with other women. He couldn't explain why. It was just...different.

  God knows she wasn't easy. She was one of the hardest women he knew. She had issues. Lots of them.

  So why, lying next to her like this, did it feel so damn right?

  And what the hell was he going to do about it?

  Eighteen

  "Aha," Anna said a couple days later as she reviewed the tox-screen reports on George and Jeff. "First, the packets found on George and Jeff were cocaine, which wasn't found in either of their systems."

  "No surprise there," Dante said.

  "Agreed," she said. "But the bastard did drug Jeff. Tox screen verified he had a high enough dose of morphine to knock him out fast."

  She handed a copy of the report to Dante, who nodded. "He'd have been unconscious in under a minute."

  "Yeah," Roman said. "A lower dose and you party. A high one like the amount found in Jeff and you pass out fast."