he deems bad. Donnie Adams attacked Cinnamon—ah, Coreen Miller. I checked Donnie’s rap sheet before we came here. Last month, he put another dancer in the hospital, though she didn’t press charges. God knows why…” A disgruntled sigh. “The FBI says our killer is taking out those who hurt others. He’s had three vics at last count.”
“Three?” Had he missed these stories on the news?
“Um. The perpetrator killed a suburban dad about four weeks ago. Turned out the husband was beating the crap out of his wife and kid.”
Joel’s hands clenched and unclenched. “So the killer is some kind of vigilante?”
“His second victim was a male who killed his wife in a drunk driving accident. The guy’s alcohol level was through the roof. He walked away from the wreck, but his new wife wasn’t so lucky. She was trapped in the car and died in the hour that it took the firefighters to use the Jaws of Life to get her out.”
Joel shook his head. “No.”
“No…what?”
“No, I’m done. I’m not…” Was that blood on the wall? It was. Her light had just hit it, and he could see the stain. Not red. Dark brown. And he remembered the spray of his own blood. The smell of it. The way it had soaked his body.
Rage and pain clawed at him until Joel wanted to attack everything and everyone. He wanted to fight and destroy. He wanted—
Her hand curled around his arm. “Are you with me?”
Her light was gone. She’d turned off her phone. Put it away. The moon shone down on him. He could make out her features. The soft curves of her cheeks. The plumpness of her lips. Her touch was soft and light on him, and the rage seemed to ease. He could pull in a breath. He could smell strawberries. Her. “I’m with you.”
He thought she smiled.
Why did he like her smile? In that rotting alley, why did he like anything? “If our killer is offing bad guys, why do we want to stop him?”
“Because he’s not God. He doesn’t get to decide who lives or dies.” Her head tilted back. “And it’s the FBI behavior analyst who thinks he’s only going after bad guys. I believe the killer is just doing that part to throw us off. He’s no Dexter.”
“Dexter?” She had not gone there. Was she seriously talking about the fictional—
“Yes, you know the character who was a serial killer but he focused on bad guys? The show was quite popular, I mean, I know it was several years ago but—”
“I know Dexter.” His head was throbbing again. He had the fear that it might always throb around her. “You said there were only three vics—”
“The FBI thinks there are three. I believe there are others. And, no, the vics aren’t all bad.” Her hand slid down his arm before easing away from him. “I’ll return in the daylight. See what else I can find. I think we’re done for tonight.”
Done? He…didn’t want to be done.
But she was walking around the building, and Joel found himself hurrying to follow her. She headed for his motorcycle, but paused to look at him and say, “I think it would be better if I took a cab home.”
He grabbed for a helmet, his hand clenching around it. She’s ditching me now? “Why would the killer want you to find him?”
“Because he wants to be stopped. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, but he can’t help himself. That’s where I come in.”
She looked far too breakable to him as she stood on the edge of the sidewalk. “You stop killers.”
A shrug. The loose collar on the red blouse slid down her left shoulder. Sexy as fuck. “We all need hobbies,” she told him in a quiet voice, as if imparting a secret. “This one is mine. I guess crime solving is in my blood. My gift or my curse, depending on how you look at it.”
He couldn’t look away from her. “Will you need my help again?”
“I doubt it.” She turned away. “I learned what I needed to know from Coreen.” She headed across the street. Her high heels clicked on the pavement.
Right when she reached the center of the road, headlights flashed on. A car engine revved.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that. Chloe’s head turned until she was staring at the headlights. A deer, caught too late.
The car hurtled forward. Headed straight for her.
Joel threw down his helmet. He raced toward her. But even as