They all nodded in agreement.
“One more thing,” Pete interjected. “If it’s alright with you, I think we should let Shane in on this.”
“The other sentry?” Olivia put her hands on her hips and let out a long breath. She stared at the vaulted ceiling as she spoke. “I’d really rather keep this between us for now. Besides, I haven’t even met him yet.” She looked at Pete through narrowed eyes. “Do you trust him?”
“Yes.” Pete raised his hands to prevent her from arguing. “Listen. The guy has been a sentry for four hundred years, and he is Mr. By-the-Book. I’m worried that if we don’t clue him in, and he gets wind of it some other way, it will only make matters worse.”
“Fine.” She leaned back against the shelves of booze and looked at the faces of her diverse coven. “Keep it to a minimum. Let him know there was a suspected vamp killing near the club, and that you’re looking into it. Leave Maya’s name out of it until we get that DNA sample checked out.”
“Not a problem.” Pete gave Maya a brotherly wink. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get it all straightened out.”
“Are you sure?” Maya sniffled and looked at Olivia.
“Absolutely.” Olivia mustered a weary smile. “Hey, we don’t even know for sure if it’s a vamp killing. Let’s take it one step at a time.”
That was bullshit. She knew deep in her gut that it was a vamp killing. Olivia prayed Maya was telling the truth. If she wasn’t, if she did indeed kill Ronald Davis, then there would be no saving her from the Presidium’s justice.
Chapter 3
Doug leaned back in the chair at his desk, laced his fingers behind his head, and stared at the computer screen without really seeing it. They had questioned several witnesses, but none yielded solid leads. In true, late-night New York City fashion, no one saw anything, or if they did, they weren’t talking. The Hollingsworth woman provided an alibi for the bartender, so for the moment, the little blond was bumped from the top of his list.
They reached a series of dead-end leads far too quickly for his liking.
One thing bothered him more than anything else. He couldn’t get his mind off Olivia and the striking resemblance she bore to the woman from his dreams. How in the hell was he supposed to keep his mind on this case when he couldn’t keep it off her?
“Shit, you got it bad, kid.” Tom’s gravelly laugh pulled him from his thoughts.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Doug said with as much disinterest as he could muster.
His chair squeaked in protest as he leaned both elbows on the desk and flipped through pictures of the crime scene and Ronald’s mutilated body. He had to get his head back in the game. Running his hands over his face, he turned his attention to the file on his desk, unwilling to look at Tom.
They’d only been partners for about two years, but the guy knew him better than almost anyone on the planet—the only one who knew him better was his former partner, Pete.
He could feel Tom staring at him.
“What?” Doug asked without looking up.
Tom’s desk butted up against his, and their computers were back-to-back, which normally worked out great, but right now it felt too close for comfort. Doug never told a soul about the sexy dreams he had of the mysterious redhead, and he would be damned if he was going to start now. If he was going to tell anyone, it would be Tom, but the middle of a murder investigation was not the time to talk about dreams.
He would have told Pete, but he had barely spoken to the guy in months. He had gotten really reclusive ever since he got married, and there was something else different about him too. Doug could not pinpoint what it was, and that nagged at him. He hated not being able to figure it out, but it was more than that. He missed his friend.
Tom leaned closer and lowered his voice, so that none of the other cops in the room would hear him. “You’ve got a serious hard-on for that tall drink of water from the club, and don’t try to deny it.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the other cops sitting outside the captain’s office playing games on their cell phones. Everyone was trying to stay awake and kill time before the shift change.
“In the two years I’ve known you, you have never been at a loss for words, and tonight you actually forgot how to speak for a second. I think all the blood rushed to your dick and out of that college-boy brain.”
“Me?” Doug responded with a wry grin and peered past the computer at his partner. “You practically drooled all over that Maya chick, and she’s a potential suspect.”
“You know I’ve always been a sucker for blonds,” he said with a wink.
Doug chuckled and shook his head. “Isn’t she a little young for you, old man?”
“Age is a state of mind, my friend.”
“Then that would make you about twelve.”
“Probably.” Tom laughed loudly and sat back in his chair as he scratched his balding head. “I’m sure my two ex-wives would agree. It’s a good thing I never had any kids. They would’ve ended up outgrowing me.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what happened with your last wife.”
“Most likely.” Tom groaned as he pushed himself out of his chair. “I’ll learn from my mistakes one of these days.” He shrugged on his jacket. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“You go ahead.” Doug waved and turned his attention back to the folder on his desk. “I want to check out a few more details before I head out.”
“Shit,” Tom sighed and started to take off his coat. “And here I thought I was going home before the sun came up.”
“Get off the cross, Tom,” Doug said without looking up. “There’s only room for Jesus.”
Tom burst out laughing and ran a hand over his head. “You sure, kid?”
“I’m only staying a few more minutes. I just want to see if I can find more information about that bartender he was hanging out with. Maybe she’s got a pissed off ex-boyfriend. Go on. Get the hell out of here. I’ll see you back here tonight, and we’ll hit it again.”
Tom waved as he disappeared through the doorway, and Doug heard his boisterous voice as he said good-bye to the various people he passed on his way downstairs. He shook his head and smirked. Tom was anything but stealthy, which was probably why he never did undercover work.
Doug jotted a few more observations in his notebook, mostly notes to himself about going back to the club and interviewing that bartender again. He knew in his gut that she was not the killer, but he also had a hunch she knew more than she was letting on. Getting to see Olivia again would be an added bonus. Doug shut down his computer, snagged his cell phone, and stuck it in his pants pocket.
“Night guys.”
The other detectives waved absently and mumbled their good-byes as Doug headed downstairs and passed through the front lobby of the precinct. He pushed open the heavy door and sucked in a deep breath of the late spring morning. Darkness would soon be replaced by gray as the sun crept its way up, but he reveled in the last breath of the fading night.
An array of city smells assaulted his senses. Garbage and exhaust from the passing cars dominated, but the fresh smell of bread baking from Spinelli’s Bakery around the corner managed to make it tolerable.
However, the moment his feet hit the sidewalk, his phone buzzed, and he cursed under his breath. A text at this hour was rarely good news.
His brow furrowed as he read the message.
Can you come down here? There’s something I want to show you.