Neatly putting the pages together in a uniform pile, Valri returned to her desk. “The woman in your video has been arrested and charged with a number of felonies under a whole array of different names. You’re either dealing with someone with a serious case of multiple personality disorder or a very creative criminal.”
Kenzie thought of the grief that Connie was going through. “I vote for the latter.”
“Is there a last known address?” Hunter asked, although he didn’t really hold out much hope.
Valri raised her eyes to his, then doubled-checked the printout. “What do you think?”
Hunter frowned. He hated being right. “I think that we’d have a better chance of tracking down the tooth fairy.”
“At least the tooth fairy leaves something on your pillow before taking your tooth,” Kenzie commented, suppressing a sigh as she looked at the printout that Valri had handed to her. “Thanks for this,” she told her cousin, holding the pages up.
“I live to serve,” Valri cracked. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go serve someone else.”
“Bye,” Hunter said to the woman as he and Kenzie began to leave.
Already back at work, Valri murmured, “Until next time,” in response.
“Was that your cousin’s way of saying we’re like a bad penny?” Hunter asked Kenzie as they walked down the corridor.
“You mean because we always keep turning up? Yeah, probably.” Kenzie stopped in front of the elevator bank, looking through the list of aliases ascribed to their suspect. “Just look at all these names,” Kenzie marveled. “How does she manage to keep them all straight? Forget about the last names,” she added with a hollow laugh.
“I’m sure she doesn’t forget about them,” Hunter told her. “There’s a strong possibility that her life just might depend on her remembering them.”
Kenzie frowned as she looked at the woman’s photograph and the names that Valri had uncovered for them. For all they knew, this was only a partial list. There could be more names—and more victims. The very thought of there being even more victims than they’d already found made Kenzie sick to her stomach.
The elevator arrived and they got on. “Do you have any street people?” she asked Hunter suddenly as they rode back up to the squad room.
The question had come out of the blue, apropos of nothing. “Excuse me?” Hunter asked.
“You know, people on the street.” Kenzie’s voice grew more agitated as the idea gelled in her head. “Sources. People who could help us locate this woman. We really need to talk to her.”
“That probably is a lot harder than it sounds,” Hunter told her.
All Kenzie wanted was a chance to be left in a room alone with this horrid woman. “I know, I know, but best case, she’s guilty of stealing John Kurtz’s money. Worst case, she killed him or set him up to be killed. In either case,” Kenzie stressed, “we need to talk to her to see what she can tell us.”
“And in order to do that,” Hunter pointed out, “we need to find her.”
“That’s where the street people come in. Finn has sources if you don’t,” she said, referring to one of her older brothers. “I’ll have him put the word out, see what he can find out.”
Hunter nodded. “How about Murdoch?” he asked. He knew for a fact that Murdoch had developed a rather well-connected network of sources.
“Sure,” Kenzie answered with an all-inclusive shrug. “The more the merrier—just as long as we get this damn black widow to stop killing and get off the street.”
* * *
Walking into the back room, Kenzie and Hunter were all ready to report to the others that, thanks to Valri, they had managed to secure another piece of the puzzle. But before they could say a word, O’Hara, Choi and Valdez announced that they had news of their own.
Choi was the first to speak up. “We found that the three victims we’ve managed to identify so far have something else in common,” he announced. “All three of them had profiles on that fifty-plus dating website.”
“It’s called the Second Time Around. Or Second Chances,” Valdez told them.
“Second Time Around,” O’Hara corrected. “Even that opera singer is on it,” he added.
The investigation was moving painfully slowly, but it was finally coming together, Kenzie thought.
“Run all the names on the list we compiled from Missing Persons,” she told the others. “See how many of them turn up on the website.”
“But we still don’t know if those names belong to any of those torsos that the ME has in the morgue,” Valdez protested.
“No, but maybe this website is how the black widow found her victims. It might be a roundabout way of making identifications. Without any more information,” Kenzie reasoned, “this is all we’ve got to go on right now.”
“Okay,” Choi said, resigning himself to the new task. And then he sighed, a balloon that was losing the last of its air. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve never been so happy to see the weekend approaching in my life. It’s going to be a hell of a huge relief to be able to kick back and do something normal just for a couple of days.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Valdez agreed. “Even the idea of going out shopping with my wife sounds pretty good right about now—and we all know how much I love shopping.” Valdez glanced over toward his partner. “What about you, Brannigan?” he asked. “Got anything special planned?”
The expression on Valdez’s face clearly said that he thought his partner was going to be spending the weekend enjoying the company of yet another blazing-hot woman.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Hunter answered in a measured cadence. He deliberately looked at Kenzie, waiting until she looked up.
The moment that she did, she realized what Hunter was referring to. The party that the old chief of police was throwing for the new one. Uncle Andrew’s parties were always good, but this one promised to be legendary.
“Well, enjoy yourself,” she told him, looking back at the papers in front of her. “I’ll be here, lining up the nails to use on this woman’s coffin.”
“Admirable,” Hunter told her. “But the victims aren’t going to be any less dead if you take a couple of days longer to track her down.”
He had a point. But she felt she was on a mission. She couldn’t shake the feeling that if they didn’t catch this serial killer now, she might elude them forever. “They won’t be,” she agreed. “But maybe her next victim won’t be her next victim if she gets caught,” Kenzie told him.
Hunter ushered Kenzie aside, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate having the others hear him lecturing her—and that was what this was going to turn out to be, he thought. A lecture.
“Using that argument,” Hunter told her, “every cop on the force can never go home again because if they do, that might be the difference in capturing or not capturing a killer in the nick of time.”
Kenzie raised her chin as her eyes narrowed. She was spoiling for a fight, he thought, and normally he’d just back off. But not this time.
“Why is it so important to you that I attend this thing?” Kenzie demanded, resenting that he was injecting himself into her personal life.
“It’s important to me because I don’t want to see you wear out. But even more important than that, I know that the chief would really like to see you there.” He looked into her eyes, making his point. “This is important to him. This is in honor of one of his sons.”
Kenzie debated just walking away, but he’d probably take that to be her running from a fight. She had never done that in her life and she didn’t intend to start now. “Uncle Andrew has a great many other nieces and nephews,” she pointed out. “He won’t miss me. He won’t even know I’m not there.”
Was she kidding? He looked at her in disbelief. “Do you honestly believe that? Remember, we’re talking about Andr
ew Cavanaugh. The man might not be chief of police any longer, but he’s still aware of everything.” His eyes continued to hold hers. “I don’t think I really have to tell you that.”
Kenzie struggled not to flinch. There was something about Hunter Brannigan that made her want to squirm. “No, you don’t.”
“Then why am I?” he asked.
He made it clear that he wasn’t about to let her off the hook and that he wasn’t going anywhere until she agreed to attend the chief’s party. He had a personal stake in this.
Kenzie fought not to lose her temper. Sighing, she answered the question he had just thrown out. “Because you like sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” she informed him.
With that, she left the back room and went to get coffee.
She knew he was following her before she ever turned around to verify the fact.
“Speaking of sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong,” Hunter said, picking up the discussion when he reached the break room.
She closed her eyes, searching for strength. “Now what?”
“I talked to your brothers the other evening,” he said.
Kenzie stiffened. Something inside her just knew what was coming even though Hunter hadn’t said anything yet. Even so, she gritted her teeth and asked, “About?”
“About your engagement,” he replied quietly.
Damn him. What gave him the right to go digging into her life? She turned on him, her eyes flashing.
“You’re right. You stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong and if you keep on talking, that pretty nose of yours is going to look like it went ten rounds with the heavyweight champion of the world.”
It took effort not to laugh. He had no doubt that she knew how to deliver a punch, but by no stretch of the imagination did she come anywhere near fitting that description. So instead he continued as if she hadn’t just threatened him. This was important and now that he had broached the subject, he wanted to get it all out in the open.
“Apparently, neither one of them knew what made you call off the engagement.”
She could feel her temper teetering in the edge, ready to explode. “Brannigan, I am warning you—”
“They did say that they were glad that you did call it off,” he told her. “Finn and Murdoch both thought that you were much too good for the guy and they were happy that you finally realized that.”
She didn’t want to attract any attention, but it was hard not to shout at this man. Served her right for actually thinking he might have become a decent human being.
She forced herself to dole out her words evenly. “I really don’t care what they think about my engagement or the end of my engagement—and I certainly don’t care what you think about it—or what you think about anything,” she underscored possibly a little too forcefully because the exact opposite was true. She realized that she actually did care. Maybe even too much.
He continued talking as if she hadn’t said anything. “So I did a little digging.”
Kenzie stared at him in astonishment, doing her best to cover her reaction to this detective. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”
“According to your brothers, you changed after you gave old Billy the heave-ho. You became practically a workaholic. You changed departments,” he reminded her. “You also started keeping people at a distance for no reason.”
She didn’t like his knowing so many details about her life. Denials rose to her lips, but she knew he’d just say that she was being defensive. Kenzie decided to pick her battle.
“If you’re talking about yourself, Brannigan, there’s a damn good reason why I’m keeping you at a distance,” she assured him.
“Okay, let’s talk about that,” he said, following her again as she tried to walk away. “Contrary to what you might believe, I treat the women I date with the utmost respect. I don’t cheat on them and I don’t juggle two at a time. You can ask any of them anything you want about me. I guarantee you that they won’t have anything bad to say. I never hurt any of them.”
Why was he telling her all this? Not that she even believed him, she thought.
“What do you want, Brannigan?” she cried. “Applause? A good-conduct medal?”
“No, I just want you to stop looking at me as if you expect me to turn into some kind of womanizing monster,” he told her. “I’m not your enemy.”
Her eyes narrowed. She felt as if she was in a battle to save herself.
“You’re not the answer to a prayer either, if that’s what you’re going for.”
He surprised her by accepting her assessment. “Fair enough,” he said. Hunter lowered his voice and told her, “But I can be your friend.”
The last thing she wanted was this man in her life on a personal basis. Ever.
“I don’t need another friend,” she informed him. “I have more than enough.”
“Nobody can ever have enough friends,” Hunter told her.
Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Now you sound like a public service announcement.”
He smiled at her. She could practically feel the smile curling through her system.
“Maybe I am,” he told her.
“If you’re through waving your gums—” she began, trying to get by him.
“Kenzie, if you don’t turn up at the chief’s party on Sunday,” he told her seriously, “you’re going to regret it.”
Kenzie continued to try to tread water, but she knew that it was just a matter of time before she would be vanquished. With a very loud sigh, she blew out a breath and asked, “And why’s that?”
“Because you’ll be disappointing the chief,” he told her, adding, “And because you really do need a little time off to be yourself again, to be you amid your family and friends.”
“Friends,” Kenzie repeated almost accusingly. “Meaning you?”
“The offer’s still open,” Hunter told her. “But to answer your question, there’ll be other family friends at the gathering. You and I won’t need to interact if you don’t want to,” he promised.
Kenzie studied him. “I have your word on that?” she asked, wondering just how far he was going to go with the charade.
“Sure. Why not?” he said with a studied carelessness she wasn’t buying into. “If it means that it’ll make you turn up for this celebration for the new chief of police, sure, you have my word.”
Kenzie didn’t believe him for a second. But he did have a point. This was important to Uncle Andrew, and the first rule instilled in all of them was that family was everything and family came first.
She just hated the fact that Brannigan was the one to remind her.
“Then I’ll go,” she told him.
Hunter grinned. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
Chapter 16
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Startled, Kenzie looked up from the report she was reading on her monitor. The last person she expected to see was walking into the squad room, heading in her direction.
Hunter.
It was Saturday and there was a skeleton crew on the floor, the way there was on every floor of the police station. Backup, if the occasion called for it, was only a phone call away. Otherwise, most of the detectives had the weekend off.
Taking his jacket off, Hunter draped it on the back of his chair and then sat down at the desk that had been temporarily assigned to him.
She didn’t like the fact that for a split second, she’d experienced a glimmer of happiness shooting through her when she saw him. She wasn’t supposed to react that way to him. If anything, the exact opposite should have been true.
Why wasn’t it?
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a still voice. “I thought you had a hot date.”
He got comfortable and turned on his computer. “I never said that,” Hunter pointed out
, “but now that you mention it—” his eyes washed over her “—I guess it could be described that way.”
Kenzie could almost feel his eyes on her. She steeled herself off. “Does that line really work for you?”
“I don’t know.” The smile on his lips unfurled slowly, sexily. “Does it?”
She blew out an annoyed breath. She didn’t have time for this. There was someone out there hacking up men and they had to put a stop to that.
“Again,” she repeated, gritting her teeth as she got back to work, “what are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked brightly. “I’m here to help.”
She pointed out what was even more obvious. “It’s Saturday.”
She could have sworn his eyes were twinkling as he said, “Nothing gets by you, does it?”
She wasn’t going to get anything done with him around, being Mr. Charming like this. “Go home, Brannigan.”
When he didn’t say anything, she glanced in his direction. There was a strange expression on his face. One she couldn’t read. “You really don’t make a man feel welcome,” he commented.
“I wasn’t trying to.”
Hunter dropped his bantering tone. “Look, do you want my help or not?” he asked. “I figured you’d be here and I thought if I came in to help, you could finish up whatever you were trying to do faster. But if we’re going to spend the entire time bickering back and forth, then I might as well go home,” he said flatly. “The choice is yours.”
This was it. This was her chance to send him on his way. And yet she heard herself doubtfully asking, “You really came to help?”
There was no sexy look, no wicked grin. There was just a simple statement. “That’s what I just said.”
Kenzie nodded, accepting him at his word. But even so, she still had to ask, “Why? Everyone else couldn’t wait for the weekend to get here. What makes you so different?”
“That’s a subject for another time.” He was back in form, sporting a smile that was nothing short of incredibly sexy. “But the short version,” he went on to say, “is that I’m a hell of a lot better detective than you think I am. And I don’t like knowing there’s someone out there hacking up his or her victims and getting away with it.” Finished, he asked her, “Anything else?”
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