Die for Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (17 page)

“Figured they would,” Dane said.

The more he learned, the more it looked like these murders weren’t about a serial killer at all. They were about a jerk who wanted out of alimony payments. Had the reporter just been his setup kill? To make the cops to think Valentine was involved? Or Katherine? Hell, the guy could have learned all about Valentine if he’d gone through the notes that Evelyn had doubtlessly taken during her sessions with Katherine.

Just then, Trent glanced up and stared at the mirror. There was no missing the fury in his eyes.

The lawyers rose, followed by Trent and Evelyn. They said some final words and headed for the door together.

Dane and Harley moved to cut them off. As they met in the bull pen, another door opened. Katherine appeared in the doorway of interrogation room one as Mac escorted her out.

Perfect timing. Timing they’d planned.

Trent’s gaze flew to Katherine. Then back to Dane.

“What’s her alibi?” Trent demanded as he pushed his lawyer away.

Katherine flinched.

The captain locked a hand on Dane’s shoulder. “This is what we wanted, remember?” Harley said under his breath.

Trent was just a few feet from Katherine now. “Where were you when Amy was being sliced open?”

Katherine’s nostrils flared. “I was with the cops. They had me under surveillance.”

Trent’s head whipped toward Dane. “You’re screwing the cop.
That’s
why he’s trying to pin these kills on me.” His face was mottled with fury. “I knew what you were. I saw Evelyn’s files. She thought your case was so damn special.”

Evelyn gasped behind him.

Trent’s gaze raked Katherine once more. “What made a killer spare you when he killed every other woman who looked just like you?” He paused and glanced between Katherine and Dane. “But you got to the cop, didn’t you?”

Beside Dane, Harley had stiffened.

“I saw the way you looked at her this morning,” Trent continued. “I
saw.
And I’ll be damned if I let you two set me up.”

His lawyer finally managed to haul the guy away. With a last, wide-eyed look at Katherine, Evelyn followed them.

“
My
office,” Harley snapped. “Mac, you keep an eye on Ms. Cole for us.”

Shit.

Dane turned away from Katherine and followed the captain. Harley slammed the door behind him. “Tell me that pompous prick is wrong.”

Dane immediately said, “He’s wrong. I’m not setting him up.”

“Tell me that you
didn’t
sleep with her.”

Angry now, Dane snapped, “She wasn’t a suspect. She’s a consenting adult.” Why the hell did he have to explain this? “We didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”

The captain slumped into his chair. “Hell, Black, you
know
better!”

“She’s still not a suspect.”

“If we go to court, that jerk’s lawyer will have a field day about your involvement with her.”

“We’ll get enough evidence that it won’t matter what BS story the guy spins.”

“You’d fucking better!” Harley leveled his index finger at Dane. “Because if the killer walks, it’s your ass on the line.”

“I know how to watch my own ass,” Dane said. He wasn’t backing down, not from the captain, not from anyone. His record was spotless. Emotion didn’t get involved in his cases. He did the job. He caught the killers.

Case fucking closed.

“Dane…” Harley slumped into his chair, and, just that fast, it wasn’t simply the captain talking to him. It was a man who’d been his mentor for more than fifteen years.

Harley’s eyes drifted to the framed photograph on his desk. A photograph of a blonde wearing a graduation cap and smiling as she stood next to her proud father.

Margaret Dunning. Harley’s only daughter. She’d been at the café when Dane went in to get Katherine. She’d been nervous when she saw him.

Maggie knew Dane worked homicide. She hated homicide. Hated her father’s job and the danger it brought.

“It’s not just about the case.” Harley’s voice was softer now as he reached out for that frame. He glanced up at Dane. “You know you’re the closest thing I have to a son.”

They didn’t usually talk about Dane’s past. Or Harley’s. They’d both tried to bury it.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He put the photograph back down. “I don’t want you getting in too deep with that woman, okay? She’s got some dangerous ties.”

“Katherine won’t hurt—” Dane began immediately.

Harley’s lips thinned. His cheeks reddened. “Even if Lancaster is the one killing in New Orleans, do you really believe that Valentine has just walked away from Katherine Cole? By all accounts, she’s the only thing that ever mattered to the man.”

Trent had been reduced to living in a cheap motel room. The cops were at his apartment, tearing through every drawer and file he had.

By the time Trent left the police station and arrived back at his home, the cops had gotten a search warrant. They’d met him in the lobby of his building. His lawyer had said the search was BS, that the cops had just found an overly sympathetic judge who should never have granted the warrant, but there wasn’t a whole lot Trent could do at that point. Someone had remembered him threatening Amy—and, yeah, back during the divorce, he’d made a few threats. Heat of the moment shit. He hadn’t
meant
them.

But what he’d meant didn’t matter. The cops had a witness to the threats. They had him tied to two victims, and now, thanks
to that warrant, the cops were already in his fucking underwear drawer.

He walked the short length of his motel room.
This dump sucks.
His body was tense, his hands shaking. Amy was dead—
dead.
Sure, he’d nearly hated her by the end of their divorce, but he hadn’t wanted her dead.

He’d wanted her out of his life, but still breathing somewhere else.

A slight rap sounded at his door.

Tense, he glanced over at the door. He’d told his lawyer where he was going. Told Evelyn. Poor Evelyn. The woman was a wreck—and so sure that Katherine was setting him up.

He should have listened to Evelyn when she tried to warn him. Should have stayed far away from Katherine.

But Katherine just hadn’t seemed dangerous to him. If she was truly a killer, he should have seen it. But maybe he’d spent too many days counseling bored housewives and sullen teenagers. Maybe he’d lost his edge. Maybe he couldn’t really see the sickness in people’s minds anymore.

The rap sounded again.

Trent headed for the door. He glanced through the peephole, frowned, then yanked open the door. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

Evelyn walked inside, her steps determined, but her hands shaking. Her hair had come out of its twist. “It’s my fault.”

Trent sighed. “Don’t worry, Evelyn. This will all be over soon. There’s nothing to find at my place.”

She shook her head. “I brought her into our lives.”

“We can’t save everyone, Evie,” he said, using his old nickname for her. Trent pulled her against his chest, and for a moment he just held her.

He felt her nod. “I know.” She lifted her head. Stared up at him. Tears glinted in her eyes, and she looked vulnerable.

Almost beautiful.

Trent stiffened. He wasn’t going there. Not again.

He released her.

A furrow appeared between her brows. “Trent?”

He shook his head. “You should go home, Evie.”

Evelyn’s features tightened, but she gave a small nod. “You’re right. We’re both upset. We can talk tomorrow.”

There was always tomorrow.

At the door, Evelyn glanced back. He couldn’t read the emotion in her gaze, but then, she’d always been hard to read.

“I’m so sorry this has happened to you,” she said.

His brows rose. His smile was forced. “My lawyer will have this handled in hours. The PD will be the sorry ones—sorry they ever messed with me.” Or they would be, if he could actually afford a lawyer who gave a damn. The lawyer who’d come down to the police station was way over his budget and already threatening to walk.

But Evelyn bought his act. She gave a little wave and left.

He shut the door behind her, catching the faint scent of her lingering perfume. For a moment he just stood there, thinking about the mess of his life—and trying not to think about those black-and-white images of Amy’s body.

But he couldn’t get them the hell out of his head.

A knock sounded at the door again. Sighing, he turned back and yanked open the door. “Evie, look, I told you—” His words ended in a hard gasp.

A knife had been shoved into his chest.

Trent tried to speak but couldn’t. He was shoved back, away from the door. Away from help.

He hit the floor. His blood seeped out. His body began to grow numb.

The door closed with a soft click, sealing him inside with his attacker.

“You’re still alive,” Trent heard. “I missed your heart.”

The knife lifted.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it this time.”

Dane didn’t come to Katherine’s house that night. Mac did instead. He looked grim and determined, and he spent the night on her couch. He was the silent type, all right.

The next morning, as the sunlight trickled through her window, Katherine stood in the kitchen, glancing out at the line of trees near the edge of her yard. She was sipping her coffee when Mac entered the kitchen. He’d changed into fresh clothes, and his gaze was as watchful as always as it swept over her. “What can you tell me about Dane?” she blurted out when he’d had time to get his own mug of coffee.

“The captain told him to stay away.” Mac was silent for several moments. Then he sighed and his face softened. “He can’t be involved with you, not while he’s trying to take down Lancaster.”

“We’re not
involved.
”

“He sure looks at you as if you are.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

Then she heard raised voices outside her front door. Shouts. Her body tensed as she recognized one of the voices as Dane’s. Whatever was going on out there, he sure sounded pissed.

Mac hurried out of the kitchen and yanked open the front door. “What are you doing here, man?”

From the shouts, Katherine knew someone else was out there with Dane, but she sure hadn’t expected to see Evelyn.

Evelyn’s eyes were wide and tear filled. A uniformed cop stood beside her with his hands wrapped around her arms, as if restraining her.

“Where is he?” Evelyn demanded.

Katherine frowned.

“
Where is he?
” Evelyn screamed. The reserved, always questioning, always watching doctor was screaming.

Katherine’s gaze darted to Dane.

“It seems Dr. Trent Lancaster is missing.” His voice was mild.

“Missing?” Katherine said, feeling lost.

“Innocent men don’t run,” Mac said. He stood beside Katherine with his arms at his sides

“He wouldn’t run!” Evelyn’s face was red and blotchy. “I went back to his motel this morning. Something happened to him, I know it!”

Katherine could almost feel Dane and Mac’s silent communication. She’d noticed that they often spoke to each other in glances or raised brows.

“I caught her on the way up the walk,” Dane murmured with a nod toward Evelyn. “She was racing for the door.”

“Because
she
did something to him!” Evelyn pointed at Katherine. The cop tightened his hold on the shrink. “She killed him, just like she did the others!”

Katherine took a step toward her. “I had a guard at my house all night. How was I supposed to kill someone with cops all around me?”

Evelyn’s eyes widened. She glanced at Mac, Dane, then the uniform. “Where is he?” Now her voice was hushed. Desperate. “
Where is Trent?
”

Katherine didn’t know, but Dane’s hard stare told her that he’d be finding out.

The smell of bleach hit Dane the instant the maid opened the motel room door.

Mac was behind him. “Thanks, ma’am,” he murmured to the lady with the nervous hands.

The maid backed away.

Dane eased inside. His gaze went to the floor. He was staring down at concrete. The carpet was gone and the scent of bleach hung heavily in the air.

They both knew what this scene meant. Either Trent Lancaster had been attacked in this motel room, or he’d attacked someone there.