Die For Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (For Me #1)(4)
Author: Cynthia Eden

So the cops could watch her.

She stared at the mirror and saw the dark-haired woman with too-pale skin staring back at her.

Katherine Cole.

Say it until you believe it.

A thin, white sheet covered Savannah Slater’s body, hiding her from the chest down.

Dane gazed down at her, his jaw tight. “Ronnie, how many slices did you find on the victim’s arms?”

Dr. Veronica Thomas glanced up at him. Freckles stained her cheeks, and her bright blue eyes were narrowed behind her glasses. “I’m working on the report now. It’s only been four hours. And do you know how many stiffs I’ve got down here?” She lifted her pointed chin. “Go back upstairs. Get some coffee. Yell at a reporter for leaking the story, but give me some time, got it?”

He crossed his arms. “Eleven slices on her left arm.” Be wrong. “Ten slices on her right.”

“You counted on-scene, huh?” She pushed up her glasses. “Well, why ask, then? She was—”

“I didn’t count on-scene.” There’d been too much blood covering her, and he hadn’t wanted to touch her until the techs had a chance to do their job. By the time the techs got to work, he’d been busy keeping the press away from the victim. He’d busted ass, and someone had still gone behind his back and leaked info to the vultures.

She blinked. “Then how’d you know?”

Every muscle in his body seemed to lock down. “I’m right.” Not a question.

She nodded. “Yes, you are.” Ronnie picked up a clipboard. “The wounds on her arms are meticulous, every slice exactly one inch apart. Like the killer was following some kind of pattern.” A sad sigh drifted from her lips.

An image of Katherine Cole floated through his mind. Pretty face. Golden eyes. Full red lips.

Cold-blooded killer?

Or, at the very least, she could be an accomplice to a killer.

A woman that gorgeous would be deadly.

Ronnie walked around the table. “How’d you know, Dane?” Now suspicion had entered her tone.

“Because a woman walked up to my desk five minutes ago and told me.”

“You’re kidding.” Ronnie’s voice had risen two octaves.

“No, not this time.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “This case is priority, Ronnie. Get me the full report and get it to me yesterday.”

She nodded, eyes wide.

He turned away and pushed open the door that would take him away from the ME’s office. The scent of bleach and death followed him. Hell, he didn’t know how Ronnie could stand that place.

He hurried up the stairs, not bothering with the elevator. The ME’s office was located in the building right behind his precinct. “The death rooms,” as the cops called the place.

Please. Katherine’s voice drifted in his mind. Breathy, sexy, and almost…desperate.

Killers could be very, very desperate indeed.

The sunlight hit him as he raced between the two buildings, burning bright and hot as it always did in New Orleans. He hurried inside the police station, grunting a greeting at the uniforms he passed.

When he reached the homicide unit, Dane found Mac sitting on the edge of his desk.

Mac pointed toward the interrogation room. “There a particular reason you got that kid guarding the door?”

Dane spared a quick glance at the door in question. The uniformed cop was exactly where Dane had stationed him.

Squaring his shoulders, Dane said, “He’s keeping an eye on a suspect.”

Mac arched a brow. “I saw the suspect.” A low whistle escaped him. “I would have kept an eye on her for you. You could’ve just asked me nicely.”

Yeah, he was sure Mac would have been only too happy to keep company with Katherine Cole. “I think she knows who killed Savannah Slater.” He paused a beat. “Or maybe she even did the deed herself.”

Surprise slackened Mac’s face. “You’re shitting me.”

But Mac didn’t actually sound disbelieving. More like sad. After working together for eight years, both men knew that even the most innocent faces could hide killers.

Dane started rolling up his sleeves as he headed for the interrogation room. Mac fell into step behind him.

“So who’s good cop?” Mac asked, voice flat, as they neared the door.

Dane thought of Savannah Slater’s broken body. “Neither one of us.”

After one look at Dane’s face, the uniform quickly moved out of the way.

Dane opened the door.

Katherine looked up at once, and she was just as damn beautiful as before. Heart-shaped face. Glass-sharp cheekbones. Tiny slip of nose. Lips made for sin.

And those eyes. One look into them, and he’d felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

But he knew all too well just how deceptive innocence could be.

Such a perfect face. But was it the face of an angel or a sadistic killer?

Time to find out.

– 2 –

Valentine was back.

Katherine got her answer from the look on Detective Black’s face.

Twenty-one slices.

When Detective Black came back into the room, his eyes glittering with a barely contained fury, Katherine knew her carefully constructed world was about to be ripped apart.

“How did you know?” He was trying to sound cool, she got that, but his eyes revealed the truth.

Another man followed behind him, a guy about two inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter than Detective Black. Both men were in their thirties, but this guy’s face was much softer than the other—

“How did you know?”

Katherine swallowed. “I told you, that’s what Valentine did. He always left that exact number on his victims.”

Detective Black sat in front of her. He’d rolled up his sleeves, and she could see the black edge of a tattoo on his right arm. It seemed to twist around his flesh like a snake.

“And how would you know what Valentine did, miss?” The other guy wanted to know. His voice was carefully curious, a little bland, but she could feel his tension, too. “I mean, those crimes happened all the way up in Boston, and we’re way down—”

“I’m from Boston.” That truth just slipped out.

Wrong story. Say it until—

“Are you now.” Detective Black leaned toward her, seeming to swallow all the space with his bigger body. “Why doesn’t that fact surprise me?”

She lifted her hand, only to have it jerked back by the handcuff. “Is this confinement necessary?” Katherine glanced down at the cuff. “I came here to help you.”