“Then who killed Worthington, and why?”
Dave took his hands off the wheel and held them up. “Just thinking out loud. This is one screwed-up case when we throw you into the mix.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t throw me into the mix.” I punched him on the arm and grinned. “I’d like to keep my liver to a ripe old age.”
“You gonna call Marcone?”
“I can’t until I open the present he sent me. What am I supposed to say if he asks if I liked it when I don’t even know what it is?”
Dave parked in front of the restaurant. “There’s something wrong with you. I don’t know a woman in the world that gets a present and don’t open it right away. You got a cake?”
I slipped off the seat belt and opened my door. “No, I don’t have a cake. What do you want to eat?”
“Two cheeseburgers, large fries, and since you don’t have a cake, pick up a peanut butter pie.”
“I don’t like peanut butter pie.”
“More for me then.”
I slammed the door and hurried toward the entrance. Arlene normally closed at ten, and it was already a quarter till. She glanced up as I rushed through the doors. “I hope I’m not too late to get an order to go.”
Arlene smiled. “For you three, never too late. What do you need?”
I placed Dave’s order and opted to join Greg with vegetable soup and a salad. “Do you have any of your peanut butter pie left?”
“One.”
“I’ll take it too.”
By ten, Arlene had everything bagged up and ready to go. Leaving a hefty tip, I grinned and made my way to the car.
Dave reached across the seat and opened my door. “You get my pie?”
Sliding in, I placed the packages between my feet. “Sure did. You owe me forty bucks. Those pies are expensive.”
“Forty bucks?”
“Did you forget it was your turn to buy?” I snapped my seat belt in place and leaned back in the seat. “Home, Dave.”
“I think it’s Greg’s turn to buy.” Dave started the car and took off fast. “Yep, it’s definitely Greg’s turn. I got three more mouths to feed than you two. Dig out one of them cheeseburgers. I’m starving.”
I dug through the bag and passed him a burger. “Are you really planning on spending the night?”
“Yep. Told you, you’re stuck with me until we catch this guy.”
“I hate going to bed on a full stomach, but it’s been a long day. I say we eat, retire, and start fresh in the morning.”
We finished the drive home in silence. Greg was waiting on us and had started a pot of coffee. It had been a long day, and it was the first time I could remember working three murders back to back. We were all nodding by the time we finished.
“Couch or mattress, Stevens?” Dave tossed his dishes in the sink. “I’m going to bed.”
“Neither. The two of you are in luck this time. I turned the spare room into an extra bedroom with twin beds. You can both sleep there.”
“Night.” Dave headed down the hallway. “You snore, Stevens, and you can sleep on the couch.”
“I thought we were going to work out our plans in case there’s another body tomorrow.” Greg covered up a yawn and smiled. “Sorry.”
“I don’t think there will be a body until Monday or Tuesday. If he’s following the Christian religion, Sunday is a day of rest.” I sighed, glancing at the stack of dishes in the sink. “For everyone except overworked detectives with loonies on their beat.”
“In that case…” Greg reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small package. “I was going to give this to you next month. Happy Birthday, Kacy.”
Shit, now what do I do? I took the package and placed it next to the one from Marcone. “I’ll open them both in the morning. I’m too tired to really enjoy them tonight. Thank you, Greg.”
“I hope you like it.” Greg rose, smiled, and pushed his chair under the table. “Good night, Kacy.”
“Good night, Greg.”
I double-checked the locks and glanced down the hallway before making my way to the bedroom. I would cut off my right arm before admitting I really enjoyed having Dave and Greg stay at the house. I’d actually missed the late-night conversations after my brother’s case had ended.
Not bothering to undress, I propped up my pillows, opened the nightstand, and pulled out a notepad and pen. My body was tired, but my mind was refusing to shut down, and we needed a suspect list. Female serial killers were unusual, but I didn’t want to rule that out. Both Sicily’s and Worthington’s deaths were up for grabs on the female-or-male choice. It wasn’t hard to administer a toxic drug. I jotted down a note for Myriah about the arrows. It would take an expert shooter to have put them that close together with a bow. I was more inclined to believe they’d been placed there by hand, and if they were, whoever had done it was strong. That meant it probably was a man.
Emily’s murder was a different story. It was hard for me to believe that even a jealous wife would have put her through that kind of torture and mutilation. My eyelids were growing heavy, and I placed the notepad and pen on the nightstand. As I started to close the drawer, my gaze fell on the phone Marcone had given me. A small red light was blinking. It’s probably just a happy birthday wish. I pushed the button, closed my eyes, and listened to his deep baritone all the way to the last two sentences, which had me sitting straight up in bed, eyes wide open. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thought we could visit Yoshe and really celebrate your birthday.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sleep eluded me. After three hours of tossing and turning, I gave it up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and started the coffee. The case was enough to keep most people awake, but I had the added excitement and fear associated with seeing Marcone again. I’d devoted my entire life to law enforcement, and the news my real father not only associated with criminals but in fact was guilty of murder was hard to swallow. Even if I couldn’t prove he’d killed Julio Lenglases, there was still Zavier Sevier’s death. We’d written it off as a suicide, but Marcone had deliberately smashed Sevier’s teeth together with the full knowledge he carried a cyanide pill in a back tooth. I could pretend it was suicide in my fantasy world, but in my heart, I knew it was murder.
A door opened, and I had no trouble recognizing Dave’s shuffling steps as he made his way to the kitchen. I grabbed another cup and placed it on the counter. “I hope I didn’t wake you. Greg still asleep?”
“Snoring like a freight train.” He came to stand beside me. “You okay, kid?”
“Just because you’re an old man doesn’t make the rest of us ‘kids.’” I poured two cups and carried mine to the table. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.” He took the seat across from me. “Want to talk about it?”
“Someday, but right now, we need to concentrate on this case. I’ve been thinking about what you said—throwing me into the mix. I seem to be the Baykok’s target and perhaps what brought him here. I might believe in coincidence, but this was well thought out to occur on my birthday, and that’s why Sicily’s body was so easy to find. What doesn’t make sense is why.” Taking a sip of coffee, I shook my head. “I hate serial killer cases, because we’re always reactive and never proactive. Even with Kyle’s case, we had a ready list of suspects.”
“I got a theory, but I could be totally off base.”
“You’re never totally off base. Run it by me. If I don’t think it’s reasonable, we’ll toss it out.”
Dave sipped his coffee and pursed his lips. “On the one hand, we’ve got a serial killer with some freakish ritualistic killing habits. Looking at Emily Greenwell, I’d say this ain’t his first rodeo. He likes to kill, and he likes to mutilate his victims. Maybe he was raised in a Christian home, so he suffers some minor guilt and throws in a little religious part to his ceremony.
“On the other hand, we got this monster with a serious brain glitch that likes to cut out his victims’ livers. He goes after women who are eit
her in positions of power or fighting for a cause. What he don’t do is mutilate his victims. And I’d say this ain’t his first round of killings, either.”
“So you think we have two killers?”
Dave nodded. “Working together.”
It made perfect sense in a horrific, ghoulish way. I grabbed a notepad and jotted down notes. “We need to search for other ritualistic murders and murders of women in power or other female detectives who were murdered and had their livers removed. I don’t see myself as a warrior, though.”
“You’re young, worked your way up the ranks, and became lead detective in a very short period of time. Your arrest records, even when you were on patrol, are exemplary. You can’t be bought, and you go out of your way to help victims when you can. You’re a successful woman in a man’s world, Kacy. A lot of men might resent that.”
I downed my lukewarm coffee and rose to refill my cup. “The simple answer is usually the best. Whoever this guy is, he knows things about me and about Kyle’s case that we didn’t put in the record.” My hands shook as I returned to the table. “Which means he’s either a cop or has connections to police records.”
“Could be our old friends from the agency. Combs and whatever his name was. They were pretty pissed when we messed up their plans. You called your dad yet?”
“He left a message for me.” I let out a long breath and flopped back in my chair. “He’s coming in today to see Yoshe and give me a real birthday celebration. Whatever the hell that means.”
“Sounds like he’s planning a party.”
“Damn, Dave, don’t tell me that. I’m nervous enough as it is. You know how I am around crowds, especially when I’m supposed to be the center of attention.”
Our old friends from the agency… I felt the blood drain from my face as the hands clutching the coffee cup trembled and shook. “Dave, if Combs and Williams are involved, it isn’t just me they want. This guy is toying with me to get my father here. Once he’s here, they’ll find a way to kill us all.” I leapt up and headed for my bedroom, only to find Dave blocking my path. “Move! I’m going to stop him from coming.”
Dave rested his hands on my shoulders. “It’s too late, honey. He got here yesterday. He’s at the Wilsons’. They planned your birthday party last week.” Dave glanced at the clock over the sink. “He’ll be here in a little bit.”
I clenched and unclenched my hands at my sides. “All right. I’ll do this stupid party, but not one damn word to him about this case. As soon as the party is over, I want him out of here.”
“You and I both know that ain’t how it works. If whoever is doing this is after your dad, they’ll find a way to get to him. At least here, we can share what we’re thinking and warn him. Wouldn’t hurt to warn Charles and Melanie too.”
I walked to the counter and stared out the kitchen window, where early-morning light was beginning to filter through. “I can’t lose anyone else, Dave.”
Dave came to stand beside me, placing an arm around my shoulders. “Marcone is one bad dude and can take care of himself. I wouldn’t worry too much about him if I were you. If Combs and Williams really are behind all this, then we’re gonna need his help.”
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
Dave squeezed my shoulders in an awkward hug. “Why don’t you go shower and put a smile on that pretty face before your dad gets here. He said he’d be here early. We’ll make it through this together, just like we always do.”
“I’m not the only one with something wrong with them. You called me pretty and my dad a dude. Both those are offenses that could get you killed.” I headed toward my bedroom, calling over my shoulder, “Make a fresh pot of coffee, and no pancakes for breakfast.”
The hot shower didn’t do a lot to improve my mood, and the mirror said everything but pretty. The dark circles under my eyes accented my hollow cheeks, giving me the starving hoot owl look. Voices outside the bedroom told me Greg was up. He probably knew about the party too. Men are such assholes.
Rummaging through my closet for something decent to wear, I finally settled on jeans, a sleeveless green turtleneck, and sandals. A quick check of my phone revealed no new messages, which meant at least for the time being, no new body.
I was about to paste on a smile and step out when a loud knock on the front door stopped me. I recognized my father’s deep voice, but it was the tiny footsteps and giggles that gave me pause. Chin up, Lang. Do this for Kyle and Yoshe. It’s just a birthday party.
My heart was beating a little faster than normal as I jerked open the door and yelled, “Did I hear my favorite niece out here?”
More giggles as she rushed for me on chubby legs and held up her arms. I swooped her up for a massive hug and kisses, which she tolerated for only a few seconds before grunting to be put down. Turning my attention to my father, I gave him what I hoped was a sincere smile. “Hi.”
Something flickered in the depths of the dark-brown eyes as he scanned my appearance before his lips parted in a return smile. “I understand we’re no longer a surprise.”
I glanced at Dave, and he shrugged. “Figured I might as well tell him. You never had much of a poker face.” He grabbed Yoshe’s hand and led her toward the kitchen. “I think you, me, and Uncle Greg should go pour Aunt Kacy a cup of coffee. She’s not a morning person.”
My glare followed them out of the living room before I sighed and turned back to my father. “I’m not much of a party person, either. So what do you have planned?”
“Nothing elaborate. Lunch, cake, ice cream, and presents.” His smile was warm, but it brought on a fresh wave of guilt. Most daughters hugged their fathers and welcomed them. He took a step toward me. “You’ve lost weight.”
There was an unasked question beneath the words, one I would have to answer soon. “Lack of sleep. We have a really bad case right now, and we need to talk after the party.”
His brows knitted in the center, and his voice dropped an octave. “Something you think I’m involved in?”
“Not directly, but yes, I think we’re all involved.” My eyes darted toward the kitchen. “We’ll need to talk to Charles and Melanie too.”
His body stiffened, and a dark aura surrounded him as his eyes followed my gaze. “Then let’s get the party over with.”
CHAPTER NINE
Much to my surprise, the party was fun. I enjoyed watching Yoshe help open my presents. She found the ribbons and paper far more interesting than what was inside. Dave and Martha bought me a beautiful new watch, and Dave joked I no longer had an excuse to be late. Charles and Melanie opted for a set of old gangster movies they’d transferred to DVD. It was my father’s gift, combined with Greg’s, that put a lump in my throat and brought tears to my eyes. I’d saved those two presents until last, afraid to open either for fear it would be something personal. Dad’s was a beautiful gold chain and Greg’s a small heart-shaped locket.
“Open it.” Greg smiled sheepishly. “Your dad and I went together on this one.”
“So you did know it was my birthday.” I glowered at him before clicking the latch on the locket.
“No, I actually thought it was next month.”
The lump in my throat became painful as I stared at the picture of my mother and father holding Kyle and me shortly after birth. “Thank you,” I whispered. “It’s perfect.”
Marcone reached for the chain and locket. “Not yet it’s not.” He slipped the locket on the chain and placed it around my neck. “Now it’s perfect.”
His hand rested for a moment on my shoulder, and I covered it with mine and squeezed gently. Showing emotion was difficult for me, but I wanted him to know how much I appreciated the gift.
His voice was raspy when he spoke. “Looks like someone is ready for a nap.”
Melanie laughed. “Charles, why don’t you make some coffee while Fabian and I put Yoshe to bed. Then we can all talk.”
Dave was yawning, and my eyes felt like raw onions. “Let’s do t
his quick. Tomorrow’s a work day, and we all need to make up for the sleep we lost last night.”
“You two didn’t sleep?” Greg raised an eyebrow. “What did I miss?”
“I’m going to go help Charles with the coffee. Dave can fill you in on his theory.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the case. An occasional glance at my father had me shivering inside. Charles and Melanie asked questions, but he simply sat quietly without expression until Combs and Williams were mentioned. The dark aura I’d imagined earlier was back, only this time, it was darker and more menacing.
“They’re not involved.” Marcone refused to meet my eyes.
“How do you know that?”
“They were both killed three months ago during a drug raid.” He finally met my searching gaze.
You’re gutless if you don’t ask. And fatherless again if you do. I broke the gaze. “Well, in that case, I guess we don’t have anything to worry about.” I rose. “Thank you all for a great party, but if we stay much longer, I’m going to fall asleep and start snoring. Tomorrow is going to be another long day for the three of us.” I turned to Marcone and held out a hand. “Thank you for coming. Perhaps we’ll see you at Christmas?”
He ignored the hand, his eyes searching my face. “Perhaps.”
I nodded to Charles and Melanie, afraid to trust my voice. I needed fresh air before the emotions clogging my system erupted into a full-blown panic attack. I hoped no one ever asked how I made it out of the house and to the car, because I wouldn’t have been able to tell them. We were actually on the road before my breathing evened out and my brain unfogged. “Before either of you say anything, I don’t want to talk about it.”
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