Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,61

face as he drives away.”

“So, what Smith said was true,” Stacey said.

“It doesn’t mean that he didn’t double back and find her in that alley,” Fred said.

“No, but it does leave more questions,” Keenan reminded them.

“Such as?” Jean asked.

Keenan shook his head. “When she was killed, it wasn’t in the alley. There wasn’t enough blood. Jean, you know that the victims were killed elsewhere. They were killed in one place, their organs were taken somewhere else, and then their bodies were dumped.”

“Smith could have had an accomplice, someone ready to grab Jess once she’d been dropped off,” Stacey said.

Keenan lifted his hands. “We can’t hold Smith much longer; Jackson and Angela have been keeping him company. What we need now is for him to implicate someone else.”

“Well, there’s nothing more we can do tonight,” Jean said. “And I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve got to go to bed, or I’ll be useless tomorrow.”

They were all still for a minute.

“Look, every agent and officer in the surrounding counties are on this; we have nothing else to go on now. We’ve got to give it a rest.”

“A rest,” Keenan said, looking at Stacey.

Maybe she would dream. Maybe she wouldn’t. But they did need sleep. And before they could get any, they had to return to Krewe headquarters and speak with Jackson again, and possibly Colin Smith.

“Right,” Keenan said. He looked over at Mohammed. “Can you get copies of this to us—to the police and my office?”

Mohammed nodded. “I will be happy to! If there is anything, anything at all that can be done, just ask.”

Keenan was quiet as they drove back to headquarters.

“Well, I imagine we’ll be letting Congressman Smith go, but he’ll know that he’s being watched. And since that’s happening, it should mean that possible victims are safe, at least,” Stacey said.

“It should. Let’s get in—and then leave this to others for the night.”

Stacey leaned back in her seat.

She had to admit, at least to herself, she was glad she wasn’t going to be alone tonight.

* * *

Keenan wasn’t sure why he hadn’t immediately realized just how incredibly appealing his new partner was. Maybe he’d just been too irritated and worried to take note of what he had seen and felt.

She was a beautiful woman; that had been obvious. It was the life within her, however, that created the depth of her appeal. Her energy seemed to emit sparks: she was determined and confident to take on anyone during any confrontation, including him.

When they returned to her home at last—having been back to headquarters and then to Keenan’s place to pick up some of his things—it was late, and they were both hungry and tired. But even that didn’t quell that spark within, though she did yawn several times while heating up a few little chicken pies—her own invention, chunks of white chicken meat, mushroom soup, carrots, peas, and a topping of potatoes with a dusting of bread crumbs for added flavor.

She made them, or similar things, on the weekend, she told him, and froze or refrigerated them for meals during the week, knowing she might be too tired for anything else if it had been a late day. As the food heated, they were both in thought, and Keenan set the table and poured glasses of ice tea, watching her as she busied herself with a salad. Locks of her dark hair fell over her forehead, and she occasionally gnawed on her lower lip, deep in thought. When she glanced at him, she flushed, and her eyes were bright crystals against the soft ivory of her face.

“Do you think that any of the men on the list Colin Smith gave Jackson will pan out?” she asked. “I wonder if he’s being honest with us, or if he’s been deceiving us this whole time. I know that my dad was on a case once with a complete psychopath—had no remorse at all for anything he’d done. Even at trial...”

Her voice trailed.

“Even at trial?” he prompted.

“Strange. I guess it’s this case. I was just thinking about the McCarron trial, years back.”

“The McCarron trial? What, you had to be about twelve or thirteen when that went on,” Keenan said.

She nodded, pulling the finished pies out of the oven. “Twelve.” She hesitated, glancing at him. “That was when I met Adam Harrison, and he convinced my parents that there really might be something about to happen. That my family could be in danger, based on the dreams I was having. It