Die for Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (19 page)

And he was staring down the barrel of a gun.

He had his weapon pointed at Katherine. She had her gun pointed right at him.

“Katherine!”

Her eyes looked huge. So stark and afraid.

“Lower your gun,” he ordered her.

“Valentine was here,” she whispered. Slowly, the barrel of her gun angled toward the floor.

Yeah, he’d figured that when he saw the dead body. “Did you see him?”

She glanced over her shoulder. The back door was open.

Mac stood there, frowning. “No one came out this way.”

“He did,” Katherine whispered. “When the cops started firing, he ran out the back.”

Dane motioned to the cops. They immediately ran out to search the area. He wanted to search, too. Wanted to rush out and hunt down the bastard.

But he didn’t want to leave her alone.

“He was waiting for me to find Trent.”

Every muscle in Dane’s body vibrated with tension.

Katherine’s chin jerked up. “Go,” she said. “I’m fine. Just
get him.
”

That was all Dane needed to hear. He was already running through the back door.

Katherine’s knees sagged, and she hit the floor. He’d been there.
He’d been there.
And he’d killed again.

Sirens were blaring in the distance. Help was coming. Only the help was too late for Trent.
She’d
been too late.

Again.

She rose to her feet and forced herself to take one step. Then another. And another. The curtains had been shoved back, and light spilled in through her smashed window. In that too-bright light, she saw Trent’s body. So much blood. His chest had been carved open.

There were roses beside him. A vase—one of the vases that she kept at the gallery but never used because she hadn’t been able to force herself to actually
buy
flowers—had been shattered near Trent’s feet. Fresh roses, the same color as blood, were strewn over the floor.

I’m always watching.

Her nightmare was never going to end.

She started walking again. She fumbled with the locks on the front door. Why hadn’t she heard him set the locks? Then she was out in that bright sunlight. The gun was in her hand, the stupid, useless gun that should have ended Valentine’s life.

He’d gotten away. She’d been frozen with fear and he’d slipped away.

Get away from the death.

She put one foot in front of the other. Walked.

One foot.

In front of the other.

Do you love me, Kat?
The voice from her past whispered through her mind.

She could hear the echo of her own laughter.
Of course I do. I’m marrying you, right?

She’d been so confident. So certain.

One foot.

In front of the other.

You love all of me, right?

He’d been teasing her, or so she’d thought.

The good and the bad? You’ll stay with me, for better or worse?

She’d kissed him.
That’s what I get to promise in the vows.

One foot.

In front of—

“Katherine?”

Her chin snapped up. It was Joe’s voice. She was in front of Joe’s Café. Joe and Ben were both there, both rushing toward her, then freezing when they saw her gun. They shouldn’t be scared. There were no bullets in her gun. Valentine had taken them away.

Like he’d taken everything away from her.

“Katherine, what’s happened?” Joe demanded.

I’m in shock.
She realized it because she’d been this way before. She could hear the scream of police sirens getting closer now. Because she’d walked two blocks toward them? She didn’t remember walking that far.

Ben reached for her arm. She flinched and her confession slipped out: “I don’t like to be touched.” Except by Dane. She didn’t mind his touch.

He nodded and his hand opened. “Give me the gun,” he said.

Her fingers tightened around the handle of her weapon. “He’s…he’s coming to hurt me.”

Ben stared into her eyes. Behind the lenses of his glasses, his brown gaze was deep. Worried. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Easy to say. He didn’t know her. Neither did Joe. And Joe was coming up on her left. Looking just as worried as Ben.

“
Katherine!
” The roar of her name didn’t make her flinch. She heard the thunder of footsteps rushing toward her.

Then she realized Ben and Joe weren’t the only ones there. A small crowd had formed. Fearful folks gazed at her and her weapon.

A hard hand closed around her shoulder. “It’s all right!” Dane’s thundering voice carried easily. “I’m a police officer. The situation is under control.”

He was lying. Nothing was under control.

Katherine turned into Dane’s arms. He took the gun. Led her away.

And even though Joe called her name, she didn’t look back. She was too afraid of the horror that she’d see on his face.

Katherine sat at Dane’s desk, her shoulders hunched forward, with a cup of coffee—the bad shit that most of the cops avoided—cradled in her hands. She hadn’t spoken much, or actually at all, since he’d brought her in to the station.

Dane and Mac had searched her gallery. The PD had hunted for blocks, roping off the area, but there had been no sign of Valentine. The guy’s face—an image provided by the Boston PD—was being flashed on every TV in New Orleans. But the man had vanished.

“Did you actually
see
Valentine?” The quiet question came from Marcus. The profiler had shuffled up beside Dane.

Katherine didn’t stir at the man’s question. She hadn’t stirred at anything.

Dane inclined his head to the nearby uniform. “Keep an eye on her,” he ordered.

The sandy-haired man immediately stepped toward her.

Dane hauled the profiler into the nearest empty interrogation room. “What the hell are you implying?” Dane demanded as soon as the door shut behind them. “No, dammit, I didn’t
see
Valentine. The bastard was there, he dumped the body, he terrorized her, then he got the hell out before the cops could get to him.” Valentine was good at getting away. Too good.

Marcus swallowed quickly. “I just meant we only have Katherine’s word—”

“She’s in shock. Did you
see
her? Did you actually look at the woman? She’s barely holding it together.” Because she’d been alone with her worst nightmare. Trapped. And that knowledge pissed him off. He should have been with her. He’d said he would protect her.

“If the guy had wanted,” Dane muttered, the fury he felt directed at Valentine and at himself, “he could have killed her right then.”

Marcus shook his head. “That’s not what he wants.” Now his voice was far more confident. “That’s
never
been what he wanted.”

“Then tell me. Make me understand. Just what is it that the prick wants?”

“Katherine.”

He’d had her, been alone with her in that dark gallery. But from what Dane could tell, the woman didn’t have so much as a scratch on her.

“I should have realized he’d go after Dr. Lancaster,” Marcus continued.

Was that
guilt
in the man’s voice? Dane studied Marcus and saw that, yes, it was.

“One of the reasons I thought Katherine was originally a participant in the killings was…well, it was because she was tied to one of the victims in Boston.”

“Tied how?” He’d gone over Hobbs’s report and hadn’t seen a connection.

“Katherine and Stephanie Gilbert, the final victim in Boston, were both foster children at the same home years ago.”

Katherine had walked in on Stephanie Gilbert when Valentine was killing the woman. No,
after
the kill.

“From what I could gather, she and Katherine stayed in the same home for two months. Just two, but during that time, Katherine went to the hospital twice. Once for a broken arm, and once because she’d been stabbed in the right thigh with a kitchen knife.” His lips tightened. “Stephanie was relocated after that, sent for additional therapy.”

Dane lifted his hand. “What are you telling me? That you think Katherine
wanted
Valentine to target Stephanie because the woman had hurt her when they were kids?”

“That was one possible theory.”

“It’s possible bullshit.”

Marcus flinched but held his stare. “Do you know what a killer’s signature is?”

“It’s the way he kills,” Dane said instantly. “The slashes on the arms, the carving of the chest. All of that shit is Valentine’s twisted signature.”

“A killer’s signature doesn’t change over time. The signature is what the killer
has
to do in order for the kill to give him a feeling of completion. Satisfaction.”

Twisted fuck.

“With Valentine, part of his signature is that he’s controlling his victims. He’s tying them up, torturing them,
dominating
them. He’s punishing those who wind up on his table, the same way he was punished by his own mother. That’s why he re-creates the same wounds on their arms.” He paused. “Three
years ago, I thought Katherine might have been involved in the Gilbert murder—”

“Didn’t we decide that was BS?”

The profiler’s cheeks flushed. “I’ve been working the Valentine case for three years.
Three years.
I now believe that with the murder of Stephanie Gilbert, his motivation changed.”

Dane’s brows snapped up.

“Gilbert’s attack wounds were more savage than those of the other victims, showing a more emotional response. I think Valentine was angry with her because he
knew
what she’d done to Katherine. As far as Valentine was concerned, Katherine didn’t deserve any punishment.”

“What did she deserve?”

“Protection.”

That wasn’t the answer Dane had expected.

“Trent was here yesterday shouting at Katherine. Threatening her.”

“But Valentine wasn’t here. He wouldn’t have known—”

“Control, Detective. Remember…control. Valentine will always want control over Katherine, so I suspect that he has been watching her, and those around her, very closely for some time.” Marcus’s breath shuddered out. “With Lancaster, Valentine crossed a lot of lines that he hasn’t crossed before. He broke his own rules.”

“He took the body to her.”

A slight nod. “He wanted to give her a present. Lancaster upset Katherine, Valentine perceived that the shrink had
hurt
her, so he—”

“Hurt the bastard back.”

Another nod. “Katherine changed Valentine. Perhaps more than I realized. Until Trent, his victims—those we know of—have
been female. This evolution is showing that he feels he has no boundaries. He can and
will
attack anyone he perceives to be a threat to Katherine.”

“Hell.” Dane jerked a hand through his hair. “Savannah wanted to do a story on Katherine—”

“And Katherine refused, but the reporter kept pushing her.” Marcus’s lips tightened. “Another threat to Katherine that had to be eliminated.”

So how the hell had Amy Evans been a threat to her?

Marcus must’ve had the same thought. “If you dig, I think you’ll find a connection to Amy.”

A light rap sounded at the door. Then the captain came in. His face was tense as he stared at Dane. “The sonofabitch was in her gallery?”

“Yes.”

“With fucking cops right outside? Why the hell weren’t the uniforms able to stop him?”

“Because the uniforms didn’t see him. Katherine went in alone, and when she realized the lights weren’t working, she sent one of the cops to check her breaker box.” The cops should have damn well been
in
that building with her. They’d made a mistake that no one would be repeating. “He was waiting for her.”

“He had to get close,” Marcus said. “He had to let her know he was there, taking care of her.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed. “I want to know every single thing that man said to her. I want to know every detail.”

Dane knew they had to question Katherine. She just looked so damn fragile that he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything would be all right.

Even if the words were a lie.

“Bring her in,” the captain ordered.

“I will,” Dane said, “but I want the two of you out.” They could watch. They could listen. But he wanted to be alone in that room with Katherine.