Where Darkness Lives

by Alexandra Ivy

  “I find it’s quicker to discover the killer when I know my victim.”

  Lucas studied Sam Cooper. The authorities were clearly treating this as a targeted murder, not a random drive-by shooting.

  Interesting.

  “Then you came to the wrong guy,” Lucas informed the detective. There was no point in letting the man waste his time. He felt bad as hell that Tony was dead, but it had nothing to do with him. “Like I said, I haven’t seen or heard from Tony since high school.”

  Sam Cooper ignored the unmistakable cue to bring the interview to an end. “Odd that he was shot so close to your building, don’t you think, Mr. St. Clair?”

  “What do you mean ‘odd’?”

  The detective shrugged. “You supposedly haven’t seen Tony Hughes in years, but he manages to get shot just a few blocks away.”

  “Enough.” Lucas abruptly shoved himself to his feet, vaguely aware that Teagan was rising at the same time. “I’ve tried to be polite and answer your questions, but you’re starting to piss me off.” He held the detective’s steady gaze. “Are you trying to imply I have some connection to this crime?”

  Sam Cooper remained sitting, remarkably nonchalant as both Lucas and Teagan glared down at him. Of course, they would have to be idiots to attack a member of the Houston Police Department in the middle of a bar. Plus he was probably carrying. Hard to detect beneath the sports jacket that should have been burned in the seventies.

  “I think Tony Hughes was coming to see you,” Sam said in a calm voice.

  Lucas scowled. “Why?”

  “Because of this.” Reaching into his pocket, the detective pulled out a clear baggie and set it on the table.

  Lucas leaned forward to study the wrinkled piece of paper that had his name and address scribbled on it.

  “Where’d you get that?” he demanded.

  “Tony had it in his front pocket.”

  “Shit,” Lucas breathed in shock.

  “Still no idea why he was in the neighborhood?”

  “No.” A chill inched down Lucas’s spine. Why the hell had Tony been looking for him after fifteen years? And who would shoot him on the street? Questions that needed answers, but not until he shook off the tenacious lawman. It was never a good idea to chat with a homicide detective when he had a connection to the dead body. “And we’re about to take this to my lawyer’s office.”

  “About damned time,” Teagan muttered.

  Sam Cooper lifted his hand, trying to look harmless. “I just have one more question for now.”

  “What?”

  The detective reached into his pocket to pull out another baggie. This one held a photo of a dark-haired woman with the words—“Kill her or else”—scrawled across her face.

  “Do you recognize this woman?”

  Lucas reached to snatch the baggie off the table, holding the picture toward the muted light. He barely heard Teagan’s low curse or the detective’s protest at his rough handling of evidence.

  Even at a distance he’d easily recognized the image of a stunning young woman.

  Oh, her features had matured from the soft prettiness of youth into elegant lines. And her body had filled out with curves that made his mouth water.

  But he’d recognize the thickly lashed dark eyes and soft, kissable mouth anywhere.

  His stomach was fisted with a stark sense of horror that wrenched the air from his lungs.

  “Mia,” he rasped.

  “Mia?” With a surge, the detective was on his feet, snatching the baggie from Lucas’s fingers. “Last name?”

  “Ramon. Mia Ramon,” Lucas said even as he was turning away from the table.

  On some level he understood that he wasn’t thinking clearly. Shock did that to a man. But his primitive instincts didn’t give a shit. All he knew was that Mia was in danger.

  Nothing else mattered.

  “Wait,” Detective Cooper commanded as Lucas headed toward the door. “Where are you going?”

  Lucas’s long strides never faltered. Not even when he sensed Teagan moving to walk at his side.

  “What can I do?” his friend asked.

  That simple.

  No aggravating demands for an explanation. Just a sincere desire to help.

  “Tell the guys I’m headed to Shreveport,” he said, his subconscious making a list of tasks that had to be finished before he could leave Houston. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALEXANDRA IVY graduated from Truman University with a degree in theatre before deciding she preferred to bring her characters to life on paper rather than stage. She currently lives in Missouri with her extraordinarily patient husband and teenage son. To stay updated on Alexandra’s Guardian series or to chat with other readers, please visit her website at www.alexandraivy.com.