for a butter knife to smear some of the yellow stuff across the piece of bread.
“Not today. I mean… I’m always happy to see Grimaldi. But today I’d rather see the person who’s skulking around filming videos of you.”
“Ah.” He bit into the toast. It crunched, and crumbs dropped. He caught them in his hand and flung them into the sink. “You think you’re gonna catch somebody in the act.”
“Somebody’s doing it,” I said, “and probably not from the building across the street. Most likely whoever it is, is in plain sight, outside or maybe in a car. And if so, I should be able to see him or her.”
Most likely her, but you never know. Rafe’s been known to set the pulses fluttering on gay guys from time to time, too.
“This something you’re worried about, darlin’?”
“Enough to look into it,” I said. “Neither of us wants a repeat of Elspeth Caulfield.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Better if Grimaldi could give you a bodyguard, I suppose—”
He looked deeply offended at the idea that he couldn’t take care of himself, or that anyone else could take care of him better than he could, “—but she probably doesn’t have anyone to spare. Not if all this person is using to shoot, is a camera. A gun would be worse.”
“No kidding,” Rafe said. “No reason to worry about that, though.”
No more reason than usual, anyway. He’d been shot just a few weeks ago. Or grazed, at least. And while it didn’t seem to bother him much, I remembered every time I got him naked and noticed the—still pink, still healing—scar.
Not the first one on his body, either. He had plenty. And I’d like it a lot if he could refrain from getting any more. Although there’s a big difference between getting injured in the line of duty, when you’re someone who has signed on for a job where you run toward trouble when everyone else runs away, and getting shot by some fruitcake who has seen you on social media and decided you look good.
“Just let me finish with Carrie, and we can go. I’ll just follow you there, and hang back a little. Park around the corner or something, and take a look around.”
“Better if you head out first,” Rafe said, “so you can park and get into position before I get out of the car.”
Good idea. And nice of him to enter into the plotting with so much gusto, especially when he probably figured it was nothing to worry about, and mostly a big joke.
“I’ll do that,” I said, as I moved Carrie from one arm to the other. “What’s going on with you today?”
“Just more digging. Tammy’s determined to find this guy.”
“How does she plan to do that? He’s probably not even from around here.”
He didn’t answer, and I added, “Right?”
He shook his head. “Prob’ly not. No.”
“He could be from anywhere between Mobile and… where?”
“Gary, Indiana,” Rafe said. “And there’s no saying he’s from somewhere along the I-65 corridor. He could be from somewhere else and just drive up and down the interstate.”
“Why would he do that?”
He shrugged. “Job?”
“Sure. But doesn’t it make more sense that he’s from somewhere not too far from I-65, or he wouldn’t have taken a job driving up and down I-65? I mean, if he lives in Memphis, say, it would make more sense to drive I-40, and kill women there instead.”
“Or he’s like Samuel Little,” Rafe said, “just driving around for his own pleasure, getting rid of people he comes across.”
Maybe so. “You think he’s a trucker, though. Don’t you?”
“It makes the most sense. Anybody who ain’t a trucker stands out at a truck stop. Several of the women were picked up from, or dumped at, truck stops. It’s most likely he’s someone who fits in there.”
Carrie indicated that she’d had enough to eat for the time being, and I lifted her up to my shoulder and patted her back. She emitted an unladylike belch, and Rafe grinned.
“So that’s what we’re doing,” he added. “Starting with companies that run trucks up and down the interstate.”
“How many of them are there?” I handed him Carrie so I could get my clothing in order before going out.
He put her up against his own shoulder, with one hand on her tiny, ruffled butt. “Too many to count. Bob’s got a wet-behind-the-ears deputy sitting over at the sheriff’s office making cold calls. I’m not sure anything’s gonna come of it, but I guess it’s gotta be done.”
“Unless you can