Die For Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer (For Me #1)(5)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“Is Valentine killing in my city?”

I think so. God help us all. “You need to call Detective Sean Hobbs. He worked the case up in Boston. Talk to him. He can—”

“Did you kill Savannah Slater?” Detective Black’s cold question blew right through her words.

“No, of course not!” Fury hardened her voice.

His eyes narrowed on her, and she almost felt as if he could see right into her soul. Almost, until he asked, “Were you present when she was killed?”

“No!” Not for this kill. Not this time.

“Then where were you? Because, Ms. Cole, we’re sure as hell gonna need an alibi from you.”

Her lips trembled. She didn’t have an alibi. She’d been alone all weekend. At home. And she had no close neighbors. No one to vouch for her.

The interrogation room door flew open. “This interview is over,” a familiar voice blasted.

Katherine looked up and found her handler standing in the doorway.

Detective Black leapt to his feet. His chair slammed to the floor behind him. “Who the hell are you?”

Her handler yanked out his ID. “I’m Anthony Ross, and this woman is coming with me.”

The detective snatched the ID for a closer look while the man Katherine assumed was his partner cursed. Black and Ross were about the same size, and they were standing toe to toe.

“You’re a U.S. marshal?” Detective Black asked, and there was no missing his shock.

Ross reached for her hand. “Come on, Katherine.”

“I can’t.” She lifted the cuffs.

Ross closed his green eyes for a moment. “You are kidding me.” His gaze snapped open and locked on the detectives. “Why is she cuffed? Why?”

“Because she knows far too much about my murder victim.” Detective Black wasn’t backing down. “Either she was there or she knows—”

“Katherine wasn’t there. I can verify her whereabouts for the last forty-eight hours.”

Sweet of him to lie. But the marshal had ulterior motives.

He wanted to get her out of the precinct.

Ross held out his hand. “The. Key.”

But instead of handing him the key, the Detective Black stalked around the table and knelt beside Katherine. She tensed. Too close.

She stared down at him. His head was tilted as he stared at the cuffs. His hair was dark, so thick, and a little too long. His profile was strong, and from this angle, there was no missing the fact that someone had definitely taken a few swings at his nose.

And he smelled nice. Not a cologne scent. Just…man.

He slipped the key into the lock and the cuff opened with a quick snick, but the detective didn’t back away. Instead, his fingers smoothed over her wrist, stroking lightly, right where the cuff had bitten into her skin.

Now his head tilted back so that he met her stare. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he said, his gaze searching hers, “then how am I supposed to keep you safe?”

Safe. Sometimes she wasn’t even sure what that word meant anymore. Her tongue swiped over her too-dry lips. “You can’t.”

His fingers tightened around her wrist. “You don’t know me well. Not yet.” Why did that sound like a promise? “But believe me when I say that I could protect you from anyone or anything out there.”

Detective Black was a good cop. She’d heard the stories about him before. Seen his high-profile busts on TV. Not a glory hound, but a cop the media seemed to love.

So her smile was sad when she stood and pulled away from him. “I have to go now.”

“Damn straight,” Ross said, and then he was the one catching her hand. “And if you have any other questions for Katherine, you route them through me.”

Detective Black rose slowly. “You’re not a lawyer.”

“And she shouldn’t be your suspect,” Ross snapped right back. “So do your job and get out there and find the killer.”

He tried to pull her through the doorway.

Katherine dug in her heels. She glanced back at the detectives once more. She’d come here for a reason. “Call Boston. Talk to Sean.”

“Dammit, Kat,” Ross muttered. “We need to go.”

This time, she went with him.

And she hoped that the cops would be ready to face the hell coming their way.

“Well, well, well…” Mac blew out a hard breath and shook his head as he stared out the open interrogation room door. “What the hell was that?”

Wrong question. “We need to find out why the U.S. marshal’s office is protecting her.” He could still smell her sweet scent. All around him.

Her skin had been softer than silk.

A killer? He didn’t know, not yet. But now a marshal was involved, and that mixed up the case even more.

A marshal. Protecting a woman who knew far too much about one of the most wanted men in the United States.

He shoved by Mac and rushed back into the bull pen. His captain was coming out of his office. Harley Dunning’s round face was even redder than usual. “You want to tell me why I got the marshal’s office on my ass?”

Dane grunted as he sat down at his desk. “Ten minutes, Cap. Just give me ten minutes…” Sweat trickled down his cheek as he grabbed for his phone. He hit the button for the station operator. “Yeah, yeah, look, it’s Detective Black, and I need you to connect me to the Boston PD, to one Detective Sean Hobbs.” His heart thudded in his chest. “Now.” He was connecting the dots as quickly as he could.

“What’s goin’ on?” Harley demanded as he closed in on Dane.

Mac answered, “Our suspect gave us a tip, right before the marshal with the shiny badge dragged her away.”

“A tip?” the captain pushed.

“Yeah.” Dane grunted as he waited for the connection. “And one we’re damn well checking out.”

The marshal’s involvement meant the woman wasn’t just some bullshitter off the street. And her eyes—those beautiful, golden eyes—had been full of determination and fear.

There’d been no missing the way her voice broke each time she mentioned Valentine.

The marshal wanted to protect her, but Dane wasn’t about to let that guy stand in his way. He had a murder to solve, and if Katherine Cole was involved, she wasn’t getting away from him, marshal or no damn marshal.

To stop a killer, Dane would be willing to use anything or anyone.

No more blood. No more torture. He would do anything necessary to bring the killer to justice.