“Valentine is too smug, too damn confident for a man who should be looking at death.” Dane shook his head. “Anthony Ross has been on this case for three years—three years—but he’s not here now, when we actually have Valentine?” No, that wasn’t the way the scene would play.

Sweat beaded near the DA’s temples. “Fine. John, get a trace on his phone. Show the detective that he’s wrong.”

Dane wanted to be wrong.

“He’s not afraid of us,” Mac said. “That ass**le should be afraid.”

“He’s not afraid because he doesn’t give a shit what we think.” Dane took his gun out of his holster. Put it on the table. If he was going in that room, he wanted to remove temptation from his grasp.

Because I want you dead, bastard. When he got close to Valentine, the temptation to shoot just might be too strong for him.

“He only cares about Katherine,” Mac added as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “She’s the only one—”

“And we just might have to get her in there.” Dane’s jaw ached from gritting his teeth. “He’s not going to tell Forrest and Smith anything. We’re wasting too much f**king time.”

Valentine stopped grinning. “Tick, tick, tick.”

Screw this. Dane shoved past Meadows and pushed the button for the intercom. “You took someone.”

Valentine raised his brows. “Did I, Detective Black?”

“He’s got them both,” Mac said. “Both.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Meadows told them, but his voice was shaking. “We have no proof that…”

John cleared his throat and put down the phone he’d had at his ear. “Sir, a trace wasn’t necessary. We just located Ross’s phone.” Meadows looked relieved. “I told you—”

“The ME found it in Evelyn Knight’s coat pocket. She heard it ringing when Detective Black called—”

“Sonofabitch.” From Meadows.

“Tick, tick, tick,” Valentine said once more. “If you don’t hurry, you’re gonna be seeing red.” His head cocked as he studied the big, round clock on the wall to his right. “And look at that, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Then Meadows was the one rushing from the room and heading into interrogation. Mac and Dane were with him, clearing a path.

Meadows shoved the door open, and it banged against the wall. “Do you have knowledge of Anthony Ross’s whereabouts?”

Valentine nodded. “I believe I do.” His fake drawl rolled beneath the words.

“Where is he?”

Valentine tapped his chin with his right index finger. “He’s dying right now. Every precious second just ticking past.” Valentine’s sigh held no regret. “I kept trying to tell you we don’t have time to dick around here.”

“Where—”

“Ah, Detective Black, I figured you’d join me, if I used the right bait.” Valentine’s eyes held no emotion. “Now that we’re all here and not pulling the ridiculous bullshit of talking through the glass, this is how the deal is going to work.” He leaned forward.

“I don’t deal with—” Meadows began.

“You deal with every murderer, ra**st, and pedophile that you can.” Valentine’s voice was mild. “And you will f**king deal with me. Or I’ll make your world a nightmare.”

Meadows surged toward him. “You’re threatening me?”

“If I were, you’d already be dead.” Valentine inclined his head. “Right now, I’m dealing with you. Offering a trade. One life, for another.”

“We’re not letting you go, bastard.” Meadows glared at Valentine.

“Then I guess that will be one life lost.” Valentine didn’t look like he cared worth a damn. “But the marshal was always expendable, wasn’t he? It’s the girl, the pretty little blonde. I’m betting she’ll matter more.”

Hell. Until that moment, Dane had been holding out some hope that there was a mistake. That Maggie would turn up at the hospital, rushing to her father’s bedside.

The silence in the room was thick and dark and evil. Just like Valentine.

“You’re f**king enjoying this, aren’t you?” Dane knew it was true.

Valentine blinked, as if surprised. “Of course I enjoy my kills. Don’t you enjoy it when you have the power of life and death over someone? When you have all the control?”

“I don’t get off on killing,” Dane bit off the words through clenched teeth.

Anger flared in Valentine’s eyes, but the expression cooled quickly. Control. Yeah, that bastard wanted to have it, all right.

“Here’s how this deal will work,” Valentine said, his voice rumbling. “I’ll take you to the marshal, in exchange for your not seeking the death penalty.”

“And what will you want for Maggie’s life?” Dane demanded.

Meadows had backed away from Valentine. Smart move. The guy must have just noticed the blood on the floor, courtesy of Forrest. Forrest was currently leaning against the right wall. Meadows and Smith and Forrest and the uniforms were all afraid of Valentine. Their body language and their shifting eyes screamed their fear.

And Valentine liked for them to be afraid.

Dane stalked toward the guy. He grabbed Valentine’s chair and spun the bastard so that he had to fully face him. “What do you expect to get for her?”

Valentine blinked. “Isn’t it obvious? It should be. I mean, what’s the one thing I want in this world?”

Katherine.

Dane shoved his hands down on Valentine’s shoulders. The pressure would ensure that Valentine didn’t lunge up and attack him the way the guy had done with Forrest. Then Dane leaned closer to him and whispered, “You’re not getting near Katherine.”

“Then your captain will find his little girl’s body.” A bitter laugh. “Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he won’t ever know what happened to her. Maybe he’ll spend his whole life searching for her bones.”

Dane stared into the man’s eyes. There should have been a soul there. There should have been emotions. Hate. Fury. Fear. There should have been something. “How the hell did you wind up this way?” he asked.

“Maybe I was always like this.” But Valentine’s eyelids flickered. “Now bring Kat to me, and let’s get this show on the road.”




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