Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,19
lying. I’m certain she was lying.”
Keenan studied his new partner. She was very confident.
He suddenly found himself intrigued. Yes, she was a rookie. But she’d done all right through the day. She’d held up at the autopsy, and she was ready to bring forward theories, be they right or wrong. And any theory was important, though the proving was what came next. And now, at the moment, they had little to go on.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked.
“We have tech see if we can confirm Mrs. Hardy left the complex at night. She has a key card to flash when she comes in or goes out. Tech can hopefully find out for us. We check toll booths and see if we can find her. We delve deeper into her doings and talk to that law firm. She didn’t deny hating the woman. She’s glad Billie’s dead. Maybe she was too honest. We’ll find out. There’ll be a task force meeting in the morning, and Jackson will give a press conference. He’ll put out a warning. He can’t do much more at this point. There will be speculation about dozens of politicians. Jackson will have seen to it that a forensic team has been to Billie Bingham’s place to search for her little black book—be it physical or digital. But I’d also like to—”
“You think we might learn more through the first victims?” she finished.
He studied her a moment longer. He smiled. “We might just get through this,” he told her.
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
“Especially,” he added, “if you can dream us the face of a killer.”
She sighed softly. “It just doesn’t work that way.”
“Of course not. That would be way too easy.”
Three
The day was almost over. Stacey was glad.
She was right where she wanted to be—doing the work she had wanted to do since she was a child. She hadn’t really expected everyone to greet her with open arms, but she hadn’t been prepared for Keenan Wallace.
By the end of the day, he was beginning to seem okay. They might just make it through it all.
What was his story?
Every Krewe member had one. For each agent in the Krewe, there had to be a time when they had realized they were a bit different from others. For some, discovering their talents to speak with the dead came very early. For some, it came later.
And then, she knew there were others like her. Who had different strange talents.
Keenan Wallace wasn’t one of them—she didn’t think. She found herself wondering about his great-grandfather, who had worked with Eliot Ness. And there was a Pinkerton in his background. Intriguing to wonder if he’d felt he had to live up to the past.
“Another theory?”
“Pardon?”
“You’ve been silent. Any new ideas?”
“What? Sorry. No. Just thinking.”
“Want to see what’s nearby?” he asked.
“Pardon?”
“For food. A drive-through.”
“Oh! Yes, certainly.”
“And then where do I take you?”
“Georgetown,” she said.
“Oh. That’s convenient.”
“It is?”
“I’m in Georgetown, too,” Keenan said.
“Great.”
“So, what do you want to eat?”
While the day had been long, it was still early enough for almost everything to be open. Stacey asked Google to list nearby restaurants. There was a drive-through place right on the way, and that seemed to be fine with Keenan Wallace.
He ordered chicken nuggets and fries—easy to consume while driving, she figured. She went with the hamburger.
Soon after, he had her at her door.
“Have you been taking the subway in?” he asked her. “Sorry. I was in Maine on a case and had a few days off. I don’t even know when you started.”
“Four days ago,” she told him. “Yes, I’ve been taking the subway.”
“I’ll get you at seven thirty,” he told her.
“Fine,” she said, hopping out of the car in front of her apartment building.
“Be right here.”
“Yes, sir!” she said, and closing the door, she started up the cobblestone path to her apartment complex.
Her home had once been a single-family mansion, but those days were long gone. Years ago, the old house had been converted into condos, and she rented hers from an old friend of her dad’s who had retired and now spent much of his time working with children in war-torn areas of the world.
He was a great landlord—charging her half of what was usual for the area.
There were six families living in the complex, and they all met once every few weeks to air any grievances or see that repairs were done. She found the association a bit petty, but when she couldn’t be at the meetings, she apologized ahead of time. And