Unfortunately, now Eve would be watched all the time. Protected. He had to lure her away. Climbing into his SUV, he was two blocks away when he saw the cruiser in his rearview. He gripped his steering wheel and twisted viciously. It should have been Eve’s throat in his hands.
He jammed one hand into his coat pocket and felt the syringe that had been meant for Eve. His mind was racing. He’d been all primed. Ready. I’ll never sleep tonight. Just one. One to take off the edge.
He turned the SUV toward the city. He knew where to find what he wanted.
Chapter Nine
Tuesday, February 23, 2:25 a.m.
Noah received Eve’s call as he and Brock had finally gotten around to the topic he’d really wanted to discuss. Eve. He’d sent Brock back to Trina and a warm bed and with a combination of dread and anticipation, he’d come back here. Again. For the third time in one night.
Noah looked up at the pink camera over her door. There would be an interesting story to that. The door was opened by the officer who’d responded to the 911. Eve was sitting in her chair, arms around her knees. She met his eyes with weary resignation.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “David made me call.”
Hunter was on the sofa, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Damn straight I did.”
“Who put up the pink camera?” Noah asked.
“I did,” Hunter said grimly.
“Why are you here, Detective?” the older officer said. “This isn’t a homicide.”
Noah flicked a glance at Eve. “It’s personal. Did you find evidence of an intruder?”
“Somebody was out there,” the younger cop said. “Footprints were wiped out. One of the other cameras was pushed into the mud. Should we go door to door?”
“CSU will check the perimeter at first light. We may do door to door then. Send me a copy of your report.” The cops left and Noah closed the door. “What happened?”
Hunter told the story while Noah examined the pink video receiver.
“The system triggers an alarm,” Hunter finished, “if the camera loses a signal. When the guy ground it into the mud, the alarm woke me up.” He hesitated. “Eve has a registered gun. She’d given it to me. I started down the stairs, but she followed.”
“It’s my apartment,” Eve said stubbornly. “My problem and my goddamned gun.”
Hunter shook his head. “And that’s it. We didn’t hear him or see him.”
Noah met Hunter’s grim eyes. “Good thinking. And fast action.”
Hunter shook his head again. “I should have gone out after him.”
Noah watched Eve roll her eyes, but she said nothing. “We don’t know if this guy is armed,” Noah said. “We’ve got three dead. We can’t be taking chances.”
“Told you so,” Eve muttered.
Hunter made an annoyed sound in his throat. “Now what?”
“Now we watch Eve like a hawk,” Noah said. “Eve, you don’t go anywhere by yourself until we know exactly who and what we’re dealing with.”
“Told you so,” Hunter muttered and Noah knew a small moment of relief. If nothing else, these two behaved like brother and sister.
She rose, briskly. “David made coffee. Do you want some to go?”
He realized for her, none of this had changed anything personal. “No thanks. I’ve had enough coffee tonight. Don’t go anywhere alone.”
“She won’t,” Hunter said flatly, then softened his tone. “Thank you for coming.”
“Yes,” Eve said, not meeting Noah’s eyes. “Thank you. I’m tired. David, can you see Detective Webster out?” Without waiting for an answer she went back to her room.
Hunter puffed out his cheeks. “Well.”
Noah frowned. “Well? Well what? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you’re under her skin.” He walked him to the door. “Give her time.”
“I have lots of that,” Noah murmured, then narrowed his eyes. “Why pink?”
“It was a baby shower present. Do you know a Detective Sutherland?”
Noah was surprised at the sudden topic change. “Olivia? Damn fine cop. Why?”
“Her sister Mia’s one of my best friends,” he said. “Another damn fine cop. Olivia and I were both in Mia’s wedding. When you see her, tell her I said hi.”
“I will. And, I meant it. That was good thinking. You may have saved Eve’s life.”
Hunter’s eyes hardened. “This guy knows Eve’s involved. How does he know?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Noah said grimly. “Keep me on speed dial.”
“I will. Don’t forget your hat.”
“I’ll leave it here for a while.” If it was here, he had an excuse to return. “Thanks.”
Tuesday, February 23, 2:25 a.m.
Lindsay never would have wanted her to see this side of humanity. Too late, sis, Liza thought dully, as she waited for a bus to the next neighborhood. She’d been searching for three hours and she was already ready to give up. Most of the prostitutes hung out in bars and hotels this time of year. The bars wouldn’t let her in because she wasn’t twenty-one. And nobody in the hotels had seen Lindsay.
A well-intentioned bouncer had let her into one of the bars long enough to get warm. A waitress gave her a coffee. Neither had seen Lindsay. In her pocket was the napkin on which the bouncer had written directions to another place she might look. She had enough change for bus fare there and bus fare home.
And if you find nothing? Then what?
I don’t know.
Numbly she watched as a girl came out of the bar she’d just left, picking her way over the ice in five-inch stiletto heels. The girl’s legs were bare, her short skirt barely covering her butt, her wig teased big. She pranced to the end of the block and leaned against a light pole. A minute later a black SUV slid to a stop, rolled down its window.
“Don’t do it,” Liza murmured, as if words could help. The girl climbed up into the SUV and it did a U-turn in the street, headed back the way it had come.
Tuesday, February 23, 3:25 a.m.
He drew a deep breath, the climax shuddering through him. Slowly he released the hooker’s throat. He relaxed, lowering his body to sit on the body he straddled, his seed glistening on her skin. Under her wig she’d had short dark hair and a long neck and as he’d choked the life out of her, he’d imagined her face was Eve Wilson’s.
It should be Eve lying here, on this disgusting, foul-smelling bed. Dead, her open eyes staring at nothing at all. It was supposed to have been Eve. But it wasn’t.
But the words he’d whispered in the hooker’s ear as she’d slid into her little ketamine stupor would drive terror into Eve’s heart when she finally lay here beneath him on this bed. Twine around your throat, pulling tighter, you can’t breathe. You’re going to die.
The hooker had awakened, gasping for air, thinking she was being strangled. Then, she really was. He did love it when fantasy met reality with such perfection.
He climbed off the girl, yanked on the concrete slab, and winced. The girl from Sunday wasn’t quite done yet. He stared into the pit for a moment, troubled. Two days. He’d never gone only two days between kills.
He had to be more careful, he thought as he dragged the hooker’s body from the bed, rolling her into the pit. He’d never gone to the same street twice, but he had tonight. It was like he’d been on autopilot as he’d driven away from Eve’s.
It was the stress. When this was over and he was done, he’d go back to his old way. Things would be normal again. He donned his protective gear, performed his duties, tossing the girl’s clothing in after her. When he was finished, he pulled the slab closed and picked up the girl’s cheap stilettos, carefully placing them heel out on the shelf next to Christy Lewis’s very expensive Manolos.