exposing—”
Ruben put up a hand. “Slow your roll. The police chief called and told me to cooperate with Chloe. I stayed in the exam room the entire time. Nothing was compromised, I assure you. Now, do you have questions about the vics or not?”
He snatched up the files.
“Signature,” Ruben said.
Richardson’s gaze shot to his.
“I’ll, um, need your signature on some paperwork before you leave.”
“Smartass…That’s not what you meant.” His jaw locked as Richardson gritted, “What did Chloe say about the killer’s signature?”
“He paralyzes his victims. Focuses on the upper portion of the spine. It’s only after he’s completed the injuries to that portion of the anatomy that the killer goes on to—”
“Did she figure that out? Or was it Landry?”
There was a distinct edge to Richardson’s voice. “Does it matter? They are a team.”
“Who noticed the signature first?”
“I…Landry. But you know Chloe. She probably had already figured—”
“I know Chloe.” A grim nod. “I know she likes to screw around with killers. One of these days, she’s going to regret that tendency. You lie down with killers, you get more than blood on your hands.” He stormed for the door.
“Uh…what else do you get?” Ruben called. “I mean, when you, ah, lie down with killers if you get more than blood on you, what else is it that you—”
“You get fucked!” The exam room door swung closed behind him.
“Always great talking with you.” Ruben exhaled and the tension slid from his shoulders. “Super enlightening. Fascinating talks that we have. Please, come back again soon. Or, you know, never. Never come back. That would be awesome, too.”
Chapter Eleven
“Are you sleeping with Ruben?”
Chloe didn’t look up at Joel’s question. She kept her head down, her dark hair falling forward to hide her face, as she poked around the alley. “No.”
“Why not?” Ruben had sure implied that they were very, very close.
“You need to be more observant.”
“So you keep telling me.” Sweat trickled down his back.
“I’m not his type.”
“You’re every guy’s fucking type.”
She ceased poking at the ground. Her head tilted back, sending her hair sliding over her shoulders. Her bright gaze darted to him. “Did you just give me a compliment?”
“I mean…don’t get me wrong, you have these very, very disturbing moments…like when you’re in a bank and you’re taunting robbers…” He found himself edging closer to her. Like a moth to a flame. What. The. Hell? He caught himself. Stopped. “But you know you’re beautiful.”
“Beauty is subjective. What one person thinks is a treasure, another thinks is trash.”
“You’re not trash,” he growled.
She waved her hand around the alley, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. “I just like digging in it.”
He shook his head. She wasn’t going to tell him about Ruben. He got it. The woman could lock down or evade like a master.
But he wasn’t giving up. “Richardson.”
She went back to examining an area near the dumpster. “I’m definitely not sleeping with him. He’s not my type.”
“Good to damn well know.” A surge of anger had slipped through him. Chloe and Richardson? That image had blasted into his head and he’d like to never imagine it again. “I meant, though, why do you hate him?”
“Because of his incompetence, two women died in Florida. I kept telling him that he was incorrect in his assumptions. Over and over again. He wouldn’t listen to me. I wanted him to send out a warning. I knew the killer would attack again. Richardson had this whole theory about a cooling off period. Said the perp wasn’t going to deviate from the pattern.”
“He was wrong.”
“Richardson was angling for a big promotion. The man had his face on every news channel. He wanted to be seen as the next big expert on serial killers. He had his eyes on behavioral analysis stardom.” Her lips curled down. “But he overlooked important details. People died. Instead of learning from that mistake, he appears to have merely doubled down on his ignorance.”
“Doubled down?” His eyebrows climbed. But then he became distracted by the fact that Chloe was leaning onto her tiptoes and trying to peer into the large, green and incredibly disgusting dumpster near her. “You’re not planning on climbing in there, are you?”
“I’m just taking a look.” She put a foot on the side of the dumpster. Grabbed the top. Heaved herself up.
He locked his arms around her waist. “Crawling inside a dumpster is not a good idea.” Words that he never, ever thought he’d have to say to a woman.
“I wasn’t crawling inside. I was taking