Valentine glanced over his shoulder at Mac. Sweat beaded Mac’s temples. “That little ME…I warned her about what would happen if she talked.”
“You won’t hurt her!” Mac shouted.
“Maybe I won’t be the one who goes after her.” Valentine shrugged. “Maybe it will be one of my fans. Take a look on the Internet. So many people out there, desperate for a taste of power. I bet I could get them to do anything for me.”
And it was true. Dammit. With a few careful words, another copycat would be born. Aim and kill.
Mac’s breath heaved. “You won’t—”
“Valentine!” Dane snarled, drawing the killer’s focus back to him. Mac was on a razor’s edge. He wouldn’t let his partner lose control.
And he wouldn’t let Valentine take control from them.
“You have the right to remain silent,” Dane began. His gaze shot to Mac’s. “Call for backup. Tell them we’ve got the bastard.”
Valentine’s body had tensed.
“Anything you f**king say will be held against you,” Dane continued. He was close to the killer now, and he stared straight into the guy’s eyes.
But Valentine laughed. “I won’t be staying in jail, so it doesn’t matter what I say.”
Mac shoved the man forward. “You’re never getting out. They’re gonna shove you in a hole so deep, you won’t see daylight again.”
Valentine didn’t stop smiling, and as he finished reading the bastard his rights, Dane couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end for the serial killer.
Not yet.
“The captain sure has a pretty daughter,” Valentine murmured as they shoved him toward the door. “Not as beautiful as my Kat, but I’ve sure enjoyed getting to know her.”
The prick. The captain was still in the hospital, in the ICU. Dane had tried to reach Maggie, but he’d been told she was out of town for a seminar.
“Though I don’t know if sweet Maggie enjoyed getting to know me as much.”
She’s not out of town. Fuck. Dane’s hold tightened on the killer. “What have you done?”
Valentine’s gaze cut to him. “I guess you’ll have to just wait and find out, won’t you, Detective?”
Katherine tensed when the doors to the high-rise swung open. A security guard was in the lobby—he’d given Dane and Mac access to the offices moments before.
Now the man was scrambling outside. He had a radio in his hand, and it looked like he was calling for help.
“Sonofabitch,” Marcus whispered as he shoved open the door of his vehicle. “They got him.”
She’d been sitting in the car with Marcus. Dane had refused to let her go into the building, and Marcus had been given guard duty. But when she caught sight of three more men coming out of those swinging doors, Katherine shoved her way out of the vehicle.
Sirens screamed in the distance, coming closer and closer. Backup for the detectives, racing to the scene.
Dark shadows concealed much of the men as they walked toward Katherine. Marcus took up a position beside her, and she saw him draw out his weapon.
Her eyes narrowed as she strained to see.
Dane…Dane’s strong shoulders. His determined walk. He was okay.
And—that was Mac, on the far left. Holding tight to their prisoner.
Brakes squealed behind Katherine. The cavalry had arrived.
She didn’t look back. She was too busy straining to see the face of the man who was held by both Dane and Mac.
The man who—
She knew.
They’d just stepped under one of the streetlights. Katherine’s heart seemed to stop in that instant as her gaze swept over the man’s face.
It wasn’t the face of the man she’d known as Michael O’Rourke. Michael had been classically handsome. High cheekbones. A straight bridge of a nose. Dark hair.
This man—he looked nothing like Valentine.
Maybe that was why she had seen him so many times, again and again, and hadn’t realized…
Katherine was staring right at the man she knew as Ben Miller. Bodybuilder Ben with his easy smile. The guy who’d always been at the café in the morning, grabbing breakfast right after he worked out.
Always at the café…waiting on me.
Always there…watching me.
He was wearing contact lenses. That was why his eyes had been dark, not the green she remembered. Contacts and fake glasses. The glasses had been an extra deception to throw her off. They’d made his eyes look bigger, but now, without them, she could see that his eye shape…it was the same.
“Hello, Kat.” He’d dropped the fake Southern drawl, the rumble that had always slid beneath Ben’s words.
His nose was different—the bridge wider, with a heavy bump in the middle. His cheeks were fuller, his jaw more rounded. Even his lips were different. What had he done? Injected them with collagen? He’d dyed his hair. Let it grow so much longer. Long enough to curl lightly. Michael—he’d always kept his hair almost too short before.
“Did you miss me?” he asked softly.
Uniform cops swarmed him. Dane and Mac kept their grip on the killer and pushed him toward the back of a patrol car.
“I missed you,” Valentine called out to her. “Missed you so much that I had to get close again.”
How many times had they had breakfast together? He’d been just feet from her, all those days…
And she hadn’t known.
“No one else has ever been as perfect for me as you, no one else was good enough—”
Dane slammed the door, halting Valentine’s words. A uniform was already behind the wheel of the car. Mac jumped in the front passenger seat. The siren screamed on as the vehicle rolled forward.
Another patrol car was moving behind that vehicle. A motorcycle pulled in front, leading the line.
Katherine stared there, lost, stunned, as the swirling lights of the police cruisers lit up the scene.
Someone touched her shoulder, and Katherine jumped, flinching.
“Easy,” Dane whispered. “It’s me.”
His touch usually warmed her, but right then she just felt…cold. “Where’s Evelyn?”
No answer.
“Where. Is. She.” A demand.
“She was already dead.” His jaw tightened. “She wanted Valentine, and it looks like she got exactly what she wanted.”
Marcus swore.
Cops were heading toward the building. A crime-scene van rolled up.
“The reporters are going to be here soon,” Dane said. “They would have been listening to the police radio. We need to get you out of here.”