Spooky Business (The Spectral Files #3) - S.E. Harmon Page 0,42
so very blue. “And now you’d better fill me in on who these people are because if I know you, and I do know you, you’ve probably dug up something that’s going to get us very dead.”
“Hey,” I protested. He arched a brow, waiting for my rebuttal, but my checkered history spoke for itself. I gave an I got nothin’ sigh.
As he ate, I filled him in on everything I’d learned over the past few days about Thomas Kane, Delilah Rose, and the murdered Joseph Carr. He didn’t interrupt, but his eyebrows certainly got a workout. When I mentioned the copycat murders, his barbell eyebrow ring surged upward again.
I wound down after a little while. His response to all my chatter was a “hmm.” A fucking hmm. I was on a first-name basis with that hmm. I should be because he gave me one at least once a week. Added to his patented, noncommittal, I think you’re off your rocker, but I don’t want to say so expression, that “hmm” spoke volumes.
“Say it,” I demanded.
“It’s a little hard to believe that a man responsible for so many murders didn’t kill his wife… a wife that you say was supposed to be the crowning glory to his sick flower bed.”
“Rose garden,” I corrected absently. “He thinks of it as an art installation.”
“Whatever. We know Delilah made it to her friend’s house, but Valerie hasn’t seen her in years. Maybe Kane tracked her down and finished his little project.”
That was hard to deny, so I didn’t. “Maybe. But what would be his motivation for asking me to find her?”
“He could be fucking with you. You did say he likes doing that.”
Again, hard to deny. “He could be,” I allowed.
“What about the copycat victims? Any connections between the three women?”
“I haven’t looked into it much beyond the basics. As far as I can tell, they didn’t know one another. They had different professions, different lives. They didn’t even look the same.” I shrugged. “I know it’s not much, but I’ve been preoccupied with the Joseph Carr angle.”
“Which is where the team comes in.” He sighed. “A serial killer, an execution-style murder, and a copycat killer.”
“Hey, we’ve started with worse.”
“You can say that again.” When I opened my mouth, he chuckled. “But don’t say that again. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
He pointed at Mr. Scribbles, sitting next to the mail on the counter. “What’s with that ugly-ass cat statue?”
“That would be Joseph.”
“The same Joseph who….” At my nod, he raised an eyebrow. “I hoped I’d never have to implement a no-dead-bodies-in-the-kitchen rule, but here we are. Although, I suppose I should be happy it’s not an anniversary gift.”
“An anniversary….” I racked my brain, trying to remember the date and why I was so very stupid. Beyond the fact that I was so screwed, it was sweet that he remembered. “I, um, left your gift at the office.”
“Did you now?”
“I did, but you’re going to love it.”
“Does it involve you being naked?”
“It certainly can.” Never thought I’d be cheesy enough to give out sex coupons for an anniversary, but people change. Unless Amazon Prime had a be on my porch in five minutes delivery option, it was the best I could do.
His eyes twinkled. “I’m tempted not to come clean because I like to see you squirm, but I guess I should. Our anniversary isn’t for another month, at least.” He chuckled at my scowl. “We should get Nick and Tab working on the copycat angle, while Kevin retraces Delilah’s footsteps. And I’ve got a contact who works in DCHFS that I can call tomorrow. I want to know what cases Joseph was working when he died and if he had any problems with some of the parents.”
“Do you think I should set up another meeting with Valerie? Just to talk about this whole adoption business?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Because every time you tell a suspect you know something you shouldn’t, that suspect tries to kill you,” he said absently. “I think we should try a different tack.”
I sent him a dirty look. “I’m going to shower. By the way, my mom caught me on the way in, and I promised I’d get up for early morning yoga. Should I presume you’re too sick to attend?”
He faked coughing a few times. “Sick as a dog. Or dead. Whatever works.”
I chuckled. “I’ll give my parents your regards.”
I was halfway down the hall when he called me back. “Baby? I think you forgot something.”