Die for Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (15 page)

A woman with sleek blonde hair, which was twisted into a coil at the nape of her neck, spun toward him. Trent was seated in a chair beside her, his head hanging low, his body shaking.

“I’m Detective Black,” Dane said, offering his badge, “and I understand you found a package.”

Trent’s head jerked up. “
You.
” He surged to his feet. “
What the hell are you doing here?
”

Dane kept his expression blank. “I’m the lead detective on your ex-wife’s murder case.”

“You’re in burglary.”

“No, I’m a homicide detective.” That was all the guy needed to know.
Because I could be talking to a killer.
As a guy with access to both Katherine and Amy Evans, Trent had made it to the top of his suspect list. Now, if he could just connect Trent to Savannah Slater…
One step at a time.
Dane narrowed his eyes. “Where are the pictures?”

Trent’s shaking hand pointed to a door on the left. Dane headed for the door. He yanked on his gloves; then a quick twist of the knob revealed that the doctors’ two offices were connected. The crime-scene techs followed behind him, and the acrid scent of vomit hit him immediately.

Hell.

He made his way to the desk and saw the scattered photos. The stark black-and-white images of Amy Evans’s death.
Hell.
Dane studied the small white box. He’d already initiated a search to track the package that had been delivered to Katherine. So far,
that search hadn’t proved fruitful. He doubted this one would either. The nondescript package could have been purchased almost anywhere.

As for the rose petals and that vase of roses—
eleven roses in that vase
—he’d already started sweeps at the local florist shops.

The techs closed in around him. Dane knew they’d dust the box and the flowers for fingerprints. They’d dust the whole damn room. On a case this big, nothing could be overlooked.

Dane’s gaze darted back to the photographs.

The photos hadn’t been printed at some local drugstore. No tags were on the back of the images, no numbers that would lead them to a specific printer. But they could still analyze the paper and the ink.

Dane scanned the room. Nothing seemed disturbed or out of place. He hurried to the office’s main door. The lock hadn’t been damaged in any way.

He opened the door and found Mac with the two receptionists. “Did one of you put the package on Lancaster’s desk?” Dane asked.

They both shook their head.

“He locked his office on Friday night,” the redhead said, inching a bit closer to Mac. “And no packages came in that day.”

Amy had still been alive on Friday. The package couldn’t have come in then. Keeping his voice easy and calm, Dane asked, “What about this morning?”

The redhead shook her head. “The office stayed locked until Dr. Lancaster came in. No one went inside until then.”

“He came in looking angry,” the blonde said. “So we just stayed away from him.”

Yeah, Dane was sure the guy had been angry when he’d arrived.

“Are there any security cameras on this floor?” Dane asked.

“No, the doctors specifically requested that none be installed,” the blonde receptionist said. “They want to protect the privacy of their patients.”

He’d talk with the guard downstairs. Maybe there’d be footage of the perp entering or leaving the lobby. Or maybe the guard would remember seeing
someone.

Dane turned away and headed back to the two shrinks.

Trent was still seated. His face was even paler than before, and his hands were curled tightly around the arms of his chair.

“Dr. Lancaster,” Dane began, “do you know anyone who would want to hurt your wife?”

Trent flinched. “Me.” The answer was stark, and not at all what Dane had expected. “Everyone else loved her. I was the one who fucked things up and caused the divorce. I was the one pissed because she tried to take my practice.”

“
Trent
…” Dr. Knight began, her voice high and nervous as she edged toward him.

“
I’m
the one with the motive. I’m the one who wanted her to disappear, so let’s just cut through the crap, okay?” Trent shoved to his feet and swayed unsteadily. “I’ve been angry with her. She hated me, but that—” He broke off, swallowing. “I’d
never
do that to her. Not to anyone. It’s
sick.
” He was panting. “And Amy…she didn’t deserve it.” His shoulders slumped. “
I’m sorry, Amy.
”

Dr. Knight stepped in front of him. She was a pretty woman, with hard, gray eyes. “That’s
not
a confession, Detective.”

He hadn’t thought it was.

“I was with Trent when he found the package. He’s clearly devastated.”

To Dane, it looked like the guy was heading into shock, but appearances could be deceiving.

Dr. Knight glanced at Trent but then moved closer to Dane. “I need to talk privately with you.”

He moved back and let the lady lead the way. She led him to the lobby, where Mac was just finishing up with the women. Mac headed toward them.

“But—” Dr. Knight began.

“This is my partner, Detective Mac Turner.” Whatever she wanted to say to him, she could also say to Mac.

Gray eyes darted between them, then briefly over her shoulder toward her office. “I could get into so much trouble for this.”

“For what?” Mac asked, keeping his voice low.

“I saw the pictures of poor Amy.” Her own voice sounded a bit broken. “But I’ve seen images like that before.”

Dane didn’t speak.

“When?” Mac asked quietly.

Dr. Knight glanced at the reception area. With her voice even quieter, she said, “I have a patient…
had
a patient…there’s confidentiality, but I
can’t
let anyone else die—”

“What about the patient?” Mac pushed.

“Have you heard of the Valentine Killer?” Dr. Knight leaned toward them. “Because he killed women, just like this. He bound them. Sliced their arms. Drove a knife into their heart. When I saw the rose petals scattered on Trent’s desk, I thought of him.” The phone rang, and she jumped. Her hand rose to cover her heart. “My patient is linked to Valentine.”

Then she grabbed Dane’s shirt. “I knew she was dangerous. I just didn’t realize she would
kill.
”

Dane didn’t move a muscle. “Doctor, are you telling me a patient of yours committed this crime?”

Mac froze beside him.

Miserable now, Dr. Knight nodded. “I thought she had her impulses under control, but my gut told me she was dangerous.” Dr. Knight’s eyes were now glued to the floor. “Katherine Cole.” The name was a hopeless whisper from Dr. Knight. “She was my patient. I’m afraid she’s the killer.”

The police officer trailing behind Katherine was in plainclothes—jeans and a dark T-shirt. He looked like a tired college student, just running into Joe’s Café to grab an early morning bite to eat. He didn’t even make eye contact with Katherine.

But she knew he was there. And she felt better for having him close by.

After Dane was called away, she’d dressed as fast as she could. She wasn’t going to hide in her house. She would get out, do her normal routine, and if Valentine was out there…

Then maybe by being
out
, she’d be able to find him.

Katherine took her usual seat at the counter. Joe came over at once, his face drawn in lines of worry. “I’m glad you came back.” He leaned toward her, and his gaze searched her face. “You ran out of here so fast the other morning, I thought something was wrong.”

Just one or two things. Murder. Torture. The usual.

“I wasn’t feeling that great.” She offered him a smile. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“You worried us both.”

She turned her head, and saw Ben Miller on a nearby stool. Like Joe, Ben had always seemed friendly, but since she hadn’t been in a frame of mind to make friends, she’d closed him out.

She’d closed everyone out. It had become habit for her.

Ben usually arrived at the café at the same time she did. A few years older than she was, Ben wore dark-framed glasses and always looked as if he’d just left the gym. Sweats, freshly washed hair. She suspected he worked out at the gym across the street, then raced over for Joe’s famous breakfast. Joe really did make the best beignets she’d ever tasted, and after moving to New Orleans, she’d made it a point to taste every beignet she could.

Ben hadn’t ever hit on her. He just ate, gazed at the news, then went about his business. He’d even brought his girlfriend with him a few times, a pretty blonde in spandex.

Katherine realized she should say something. Their concern was making her uncomfortable, especially since she was lying to them both. Her fingers tapped on the counter. “It was really nothing.” The cop had to be listening in on this. “I just needed to get back home.”

But it mattered to her that these two men cared about what happened to her. She wasn’t just walking through life like a ghost after all.

Ben’s dark brown eyes drifted over her face. “If someone’s giving you trouble,” he said softly, “you can tell me.”

“Damn right.” Joe slapped his apron on the counter. “You’re a good lady. You come in here like clockwork, never bother anyone. If someone’s bothering you, me and Ben will take care of him for you.”

She blinked away tears. “Thank you.”
I matter.
“But it’s nothing, really. Just a little sickness.” Her smile was more genuine this time. “Can I just have my usual, please, Joe?”

“Sure thing.” But Joe hesitated, and his face became more serious. “I know about trouble, okay?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. “Seven years sober,” he whispered. His
fingers fisted around that coin. His gaze held hers. “When it’s not easy, you have to remember: things
always get better.
” He gave her a firm nod.

She nodded back and forced a smile.
Things could get better, but how many people have to die first?

The bell over the door rang, signaling a new customer. Katherine glanced over and saw a leggy blonde making her way to Ben’s side.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she pressed a quick kiss to Ben’s cheek. “Spin class was a bitch.”

The woman had an easy, casual confidence. Her fingers linked with Ben’s. There was warmth and affection in her gaze. These two, they were normal. Happy.

I want to be like that.

Ben bent and whispered to his girlfriend, and the blonde laughed softly.

“I’ll take that order to go,” Ben told Joe.

Joe started to bundle up some beignets in a plastic container.

Ben and the blonde stood, but Ben cast Katherine one more glance. “Don’t forget, if you have trouble…”

“What’s going on?” the blonde asked, her eyebrows rising.

“Nothing,” Katherine said immediately. The last thing she wanted was to pull these two into her nightmare.

The blonde’s gaze was worried as it lingered on Katherine. Not worried in the jealous way. Just
worried.

Joe pushed the to-go order toward Ben, and the couple headed toward the door. Katherine exhaled slowly. Her gaze swept over the diner. Joe had put out a few dozen red tablecloths for Valentine’s Day. The red was dark—and it reminded her far too much of blood. Joe had also put bouquets of white balloons in each corner of the restaurant. His patrons were smiling, relaxing, obviously enjoying the decorations.

But those decorations just made Katherine tense.

Valentine’s Day is so close.

The bell jingled again. She figured it was Ben and his blonde leaving, so she didn’t glance back. But then she heard, “
Katherine.
”

Dane’s voice.

She turned toward the door.

Ben and the blonde weren’t outside yet. Dane and Mac had come into the café. They looked grim, determined.

Another kill? She stood on trembling legs. Oh no, please…

“Dane?” The blonde said his name in surprise.
She
glanced between Dane and Katherine. “Is everything okay?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Maggie,” Dane said as he gave her a quick nod. His gaze scanned over Ben. Then he hurried toward Katherine. His voice dropped, and he said, “You need to come with me.”

“Katherine, is this a friend of yours?” Joe asked as his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Ben had tensed.

Maggie also appeared nervous. “He’s a cop,” Katherine heard the blonde tell Ben. “He works with my dad.”

Katherine slid off the stool. “It’s okay, Joe. This is Detective Dane Black.”

Dane tossed some money down on the counter. “Come on, Katherine.”

She hurried to grab her bag. The plainclothes shadow was also rising to leave.

“But she didn’t eat!” Joe called out.

It didn’t matter. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry.

Then they were outside. The rising heat hit her in the face, and before she could head toward Dane’s parked car, he was
pulling her away from the street and into the shadows on the side of the building.

“Do you trust me?” Dane demanded as his hands closed around her shoulders.

She tensed. Katherine didn’t want to give him the harsh answer, but the truth was, she didn’t trust anyone.

“I need you to trust me, Katherine.”

She could only shake her head. “I’m sorry.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I think the killer has been very close to you, Katherine. Close all along, and you didn’t even realize it.”

Her skin started to feel icy.

“Amy Evans used to be Amy Lancaster.”

The ice started to burn.

“As in Trent’s ex-wife.”