Bullshit.
From what Dane could tell, the profiler needed to think again.
“Was she in on it, do you think?” Harley asked. “She had to know what a twisted freak he was.”
Sometimes you couldn’t see the monsters right in front of you. No one had believed what a twisted SOB his old man had been, not until it was too late. “If this is really is Valentine, he’s here because of her.” He’d tracked her, all the way down the Eastern Seaboard. This was one man determined not to let go.
“Yeah, well…” A chair squeaked as Mac rolled away. “You can sure bet that U.S. marshal will have her out of town as fast as he can.” Mac exhaled on a hard sigh. “They’re gonna want to keep her safe so they can pull her out at trial.”
“Trial?” Dane repeated and forced his gaze off the picture of Katelynn. Katherine. “There’s no trial to worry about now.”
“Just because no one else has caught him,” Harley interrupted smoothly, “doesn’t mean we can’t.”
Harley might be an ass, but the guy had never been afraid of a challenge. He also loved getting his face splashed in the papers. If his department took down Valentine, he’d be able to wallpaper his office with all the news stories.
“Here you go.” Detective Karen James handed a fat stack of papers across the desk to Dane. “All your info from a Detective Hobbs in Boston.”
Not all. Sean Hobbs had promised to copy the rest of the files and overnight them. This two-inch stack was just the beginning.
Dane began to flip through the pages. Valentine had been one grisly bastard.
And he had only one weakness.
“Dane.”
He looked up at the captain’s voice.
“I don’t want her leaving the city,” Harley said. “Whether we’re dealing with the real deal or some copycat, that woman is linked to these killings.”
“All of the guy’s victims in Boston were blondes,” Dane said.
“And now we’ve got us a dead brunette,” Harley cut in.
Dane met Mac’s thoughtful stare.
“Katherine’s a brunette now,” Mac said.
Yes, she was.
When he’d first found Savannah’s body and seen her clutching that rose, Dane had made the connection to the Valentine case just like the reporters had. He’d remembered that Valentine liked to bind his victims and then stab them in the heart.
But as for all the small pieces, the facts, the profiles…that was what he needed to discover if he was going to find out what the hell was happening now.
“Read that report. Start piecing together all that you can on Valentine,” Harley ordered. “We have to work fast, because if it is him, the bureau will be down here trying to take over my case.”
No missing the my.
“We all know you have a way with the ladies, Black,” the captain continued. Detective James, who’d stayed around to shamelessly eavesdrop, snickered at that. Harley ignored her and pointed at Dane. “So I want you to use some of that charm and keep Katherine Cole in New Orleans, you got me?”
Dane nodded. “Don’t worry, Cap. Katherine’s not going anywhere.”
Because she was the key to the case, and he’d be damned if he let the bodies start to pile up in his city.
Valentine had a weakness, all right, and Dane would be using that weakness against him.
Katherine, you’re not getting away.
Not when he needed her so badly.
The house was clean. No, more than that. Immaculate. Fresh paint on the shutters. The windows gleamed as if freshly polished. There were no leaves or any debris anywhere in the front yard.
Dane stared up at the house. Katherine Cole’s house. She had no close neighbors. No one to see what was happening at her place.
No one to hear the screams.
He raised his hand to the door and knocked hard with his fist.
While he waited, he exhaled slowly and wondered what kind of sweet talk he should use.
Then Katherine Cole opened the door. She stared at him with her wide, lost eyes, and he just said, “Help me catch the bastard.”
She nodded.
– 3 –
The house smelled like her. Fresh strawberries. Sweet. Heady.
Katherine led him into the den, a den that looked like something out of a glossy home magazine. Picture-damn-perfect, but without a single personal touch. No photos. No mementos.
“You know who I am.” She turned and faced him with her chin up.
He inclined his head. “Katelynn.”
“No!” she snapped as she shook her head, sending her dark hair sliding over her shoulders. “I…” She cleared her throat. “I go by Katherine now.”
Right. Best to lay the cards on the table. “You planning to leave town?” Dane asked as he raised an eyebrow.
“That’s what Ross wants.”
The marshal was going to be a problem. “And what do you want?” he demanded as he strode toward her. He gave her credit. The woman didn’t back up.
Her breath whispered out over her lips. Sexy lips. “I want my life back, Detective Black.”
He closed in on her. Inhaled more of that sweet scent. “Then work with me,” he said. “Stay here in New Orleans. If this really is Valentine, help me to stop the bastard.” He said “if,” but the truth was that he already suspected they were facing the real deal. The crime scene had been so perfect, and those wounds on the victim’s arms had been an exact match to the other killings.
Katherine stared up at him. She was small, no taller than five foot five, and she tilted her head as she met his eyes. “I will help you.” Firm. “That’s why I came to the station. Why I told you to contact Sean.” Her stare didn’t waver. “I’ve already let Ross know that I won’t be leaving town.”
His captain would be shit-eating-grin happy over that news.
Her eyelids flickered. “Believe me, I want Valentine stopped as much as you do.” Her laugh was bitter, broken. “More than you do, okay? More. I want the guy caught and locked in a cage for the rest of his life.”
Bloodthirsty.
“So I’ll be staying here, Detective—”
“Dane.” Not just detective. They were going to be working together, working very closely together, and he wanted her calling him by his name.
She blinked and nodded slowly. “I’ll be here, Dane. This time I won’t run away.”
He realized that this Katherine wasn’t the same as the broken woman in the photograph. Determination tightened her features and kept her back straight.