Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,70

and I could meet you both in the morning?”

Axel looked at him with curiosity. “The dream thing, huh?”

“Right. How did you know?”

“Jackson talked to me this morning. I haven’t even met our newest member yet.”

“Would morning work?”

Axel laughed softly. “You mean me and my lovely new wife?”

“I do.”

“Sure. Eight o’clock, the office?”

“The morgue.”

Axel nodded gravely and said, “If that’s what you need.”

“All right, thanks. I’m going to get on in. I mean, they’ll run out of clothing for the woman to try on at some point.”

“Yep. Better get in there!”

Keenan didn’t see Sandra at first; she was apparently in a dressing room.

He pretended to give his attention to a swing stand of purses, studying them intently—and with awe that a woman’s purse could cost so much.

“Pure Italian leather!” a saleswoman told him cheerfully.

They might have been pure gold, for the prices being charged.

The saleswoman looked at him expectantly. Luckily, at that moment, Sandra Smith came out of the dressing room instructing someone unseen as to which pile of clothing she was purchasing and which pile needed to be put back.

Keenan pretended surprise to see her. “Mrs. Smith!”

She was surprised to see him—and not pleased.

“Are you taking me in, Special Agent Wallace?” Her voice was low. She wanted to challenge him, but she didn’t want to be heard.

“Should I be taking you in?” he asked. “I’m sorry. I mean...us asking your husband about his knowledge of prostitutes has to be extremely uncomfortable for you.”

“You are monsters, all of you,” she said.

“Mrs. Smith, we’re doing our jobs, that’s all,” he assured her.

“Men are all such...idiots,” she told him.

“So, oh, dear...then, you do know about...”

“I’m the wife of a congressman, Special Agent Wallace.”

“Congressional terms don’t go forever,” he reminded her.

“Oh, is that it! You want to make sure that he’s voted out?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“We haven’t publicized anything about him. No one knows that he came to our offices to help us. His knowledge of the women who were killed is something that can help us.”

The saleslady called out, “Mrs. Smith? You did want these, right?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said, still staring at Keenan, tall and perfectly fit and regal. “Do you mind, Special Agent Wallace? I need to pay for my purchases—and I don’t want to waylay you from your shopping. Though, frankly, I don’t see you wearing anything in here.”

“My mother’s birthday is coming up,” he said, then he added pleasantly, “Trust me. We’re completely tight-lipped on this case. If the gossip rags are casting aspersions on your husband, I swear to you, we have had nothing to do with it. Quieter is better for us.”

She pushed back a lock of her perfectly coiffed hair. “Run my husband through the mud however you like. I will not be thrown, and we will be back on the campaign trail, making all of you look like petulant children who couldn’t solve a murder committed right in front of them. Excuse me.”

She headed to the counter with a credit card and paid quickly, asking that her things be sent to her house.

“Oh, you don’t even want to take this cute little top?” the friendly saleswoman asked.

“You heard me!” Sandra Smith snapped. “Sent to my house!” She spun and left the shop without so much as a glance back. The saleswoman sighed with relief and muttered, “Cow!”

Then she realized that Keenan was looking at her and that he’d heard her. Her cheeks flushed crimson.

He grinned.

“I, uh... Did you need some help, sir?” she asked.

“No, thanks. Sorry, I can’t afford a thing in here!”

The girl grinned at him and said softly, “Neither can I!”

He waved and strode out.

Axel was gone—subtly still on the trail of Sandra Smith.

As Keenan headed for his car, his phone rang. “You’ve got something,” he said to Stacey without preamble.

“Something. Something that doesn’t make sense in the least!”

“What’s that?”

“Come on in. You’re going to have to see it to believe it.”

Twelve

“Do you see what I’m talking about?” Stacey asked Keenan.

She was sure that he was going to have to study the video several times, as she had.

But he spotted it far more quickly.

“Yes,” Keenan said, leaning back in his chair after freezing the screen. “It’s Billie Bingham,” he said.

“I’ve watched nearly all the footage. She didn’t testify, but she was in the courtroom every day. I didn’t get it at first, but it explains the familiarity I felt when I saw...”

“Her corpse,” Keenan finished for her. “Well, yes, she changed her hairstyle, and back then she looked like such a

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024