“We knew we couldn’t keep it a secret forever,” Webster said, his voice a soft caress that sent shivers racing across her skin and she had to remind herself that none of this was real. It was as imaginary as any relationship in Shadowland.
You can’t have him, so don’t dream. But she would dream, because now she knew what it was like to hold him, to feel his body against hers. What have I done?
Noah cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay, babe. I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Oh,” she said feigning disappointment. “I understand.” But when her smile faltered, it was sincere. “Then, can you take me home? I had kind of a difficult morning.”
Webster rested his cheek against the top of her head and for just a moment more Eve held on to the dream, leaning into him. “Sure,” he said quietly. “Let’s go.”
She gathered her things and walked away, Webster’s arm still tight around her shoulders. The cold air on her hot face felt good and she let out a long sigh of relief. Phelps was sitting in the front passenger seat, eyes wide, obviously having seen it all.
Webster opened the back door, and only then did he relinquish his hold. “You’d better make me that key after all,” he murmured, surprising a snort of laughter from her.
“Babe?” she asked, and he smiled wryly.
“I panicked. Now, buckle up,” he said and closed the door.
Jack waited until they’d cleared the first intersection before twisting around to stare at her, then at Webster. “And that was…?”
Really nice, Eve thought, resisting the urge to lick her lips to see if she could still taste him. A dream. “Damage control,” she murmured. “It’s been an eventful morning.”
Tuesday, February 23, 9:55 a.m.
Noah’s heart had not stopped pounding. First he’d feared for her safety, then she’d rocked him with a kiss she’d called “damage control.”
Now it pounded with helpless rage as his hands twisted the wheel, wishing it was the reporter’s neck as she relayed the details of Buck-land’s visit. “He threatened you?” he asked ominously, and in his rearview he could see her grow wary.
“I dealt with it,” she said. “Whatever hold he thought he had over me, he doesn’t.”
And for that, he was fiercely proud of her. “It doesn’t matter. He had no right.” No right to extort her with her own assault. It was as if she’d been victimized a second time.
“You’re not helping,” she said softly and she was right.
“I’m sorry.” But he wasn’t sorry, not really.
“At any rate,” she said, “Buckland’s been following you to your crime scenes. He followed me to the coffee shop.”
“He was there?” Jack asked. “Just now?”
“Yeah. I guess he thought I’d meet you, to warn you about the pictures. I didn’t want him to think he was right. So I… did what I thought I needed to do.”
Damage control, Noah thought bitterly. “I understand.”
“Hopefully Buckland and Jeremy don’t think I’m part of your case anymore. But you need to watch out. Buckland wants his story and he’ll keep following you till he gets it.”
“He’s following us now,” Jack said. “Has been since we left the Deli.”
Noah checked his rearview again, focusing on the traffic behind him instead of the woman in the backseat. A dark Subaru was maintaining a safe distance. “Sonofabitch.”
“You gotta hand it to the man for persistence,” she said, wry amusement in her voice. “Are we going to lose him in a mad dash? Is that why you told me to buckle up?”
Noah chuckled in spite of the anger churning in his gut. “Sorry. It’s against regs.”
“Well, damn,” she said. “I haven’t had a good mad dash in years.”
Jack twisted in his seat so he could look back at her. “If I promised you a mad dash, would you kiss me like that?” There was something harsh and almost demeaning in Jack’s tone and Noah shot him a furious glare.
In the rearview, Eve’s smile disappeared and she looked away, embarrassed. “No.”
“Jack,” Noah gritted.
Jack settled in his seat with a sarcastic sigh. “Can’t blame a man for trying, Web.”
Noah bit his tongue. Focus on the case, not flattening Jack’s pretty face.
Eve must have thought the same. “Now what? I tried to confuse things by insinuating that I was there to meet Noah, but I don’t know if I convinced him.”
“You sure as hell convinced me,” Jack said blandly.
“Jack,” Noah muttered between his teeth. But she sure as hell convinced me, too, he thought. And he was already wishing for another demonstration.
“You convinced every guy in the place,” Jack added as if Noah hadn’t spoken.
“Do you mind?” Eve shook her head angrily. “This is serious, Detective.”
“It’s his way,” Noah said flatly. “How easy will it be to connect you to Shadowland?”
“Pretty easy,” she said. “All the grad students know it’s part of my thesis, although after this morning I don’t think they’ll talk to Buckland.”
“That’s good,” Noah said. He nearly asked her if she’d gotten into the Shadowland network, but he knew she’d have told him if she had. “Now, what do we do with you?”
“I have a good idea,” Jack muttered, and Noah clenched his teeth so hard they hurt.
I am so going to turn you in. He should have done it years ago. Why he hadn’t was a mystery to many, he knew. He was aware of the talk, the betting pool, but like a fool, he’d hoped Jack would get his life back together. I did, after all.
“What do you mean?” Eve asked warily. Apparently she hadn’t heard Jack’s mutter.
“That if Buckland knows you’re involved, it’s just a matter of time before he prints it.”
“He’s printed just about everything else,” Jack said sourly.
“Like what?” she demanded. “What did he print?”
Noah hesitated. “That they wore red dresses and the killer used a snake on Christy.”
“A snake?” She looked confused. “Like, a real snake?”
“A real rattlesnake,” Jack said grimly. “It bit her.”
“Did he do that to Martha?” she asked, troubled.
“No,” Noah said. “And we’re not sure why.”
“Did he sexually assault these women?” she asked.
Jack frowned. “Why do you want to know?”
“Did he?” she insisted and Jack shook his head, disgruntled.
“No, he didn’t.”
“So he meets them in the virtual world, attacks them in their own homes, strangles them, then stages a hanging. And now he uses a snake, a common phobia.”
Noah glanced at her again in the rearview. She’d become very quiet, her expression contemplative. “Do you know why he used the snake, Eve?”
“Maybe. Something Jeremy said today just struck me. He was on a diatribe, telling me why I didn’t belong at Marshall, throwing out things he had no business knowing.”
“Like?” Noah prodded gently.
“My favorite color and that I don’t like beets. Or heights.” She said the last words slowly. “I’m trying to remember who I told that to. The only thing I can think of is that I filled out a questionnaire when I was first admitted to the program. We did something similar with our study, asked all the things they love, hate, things that comfort, scare them…”
Noah got it. “If he has the files, he would have seen Christy’s questionnaire.”
Eve nodded. “And if she wrote she was afraid of snakes, he would have known. Did Martha’s autopsy show anything odd?”
“Her blue lungs,” Jack murmured.
“She had blue lungs?” Eve asked. “Why?”