eased down into it with a murmur of appreciation. And the lady was even champ enough to eat his runny eggs without complaint.
He sat across from her and wondered where in the hell he should start. He’d handled things the wrong way with her at thebeginning. When she’d first come into the station, he’d been too harsh. He was lucky she hadn’t hauled ass out of town.
And when the marshal found out about last night’s little visit, the guy would be pushing once more for her to leave.
I have to keep her in New Orleans.
Because she was the key to the case. The killer had found her in New Orleans. He’d left the package for her, drawing her into his sick little game.
“You aren’t eating,” Katherine said quietly.
He blinked. Realized that, yeah, he’d just been staring at her. Dane quickly shoveled some eggs into his mouth. They tasted like shit.
How was she eating them?
Then he realized…
she just doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.
Huh. Who’d ever cared about that before? He put his fork down. “You can stop,” he said.
Too late. She’d already emptied her plate.
Now she sat back and watched him, her eyes giving no hint of her emotions.
His kitchen table wasn’t exactly a prime interrogation spot, but he didn’t want to question her like a suspect. He just wanted to understand her. “Why do you think he came after you?”
“Because he said that he’d never let me go.”
Cold words. Brittle.
“Valentine said that I fit him. That he needed me.” Her fingers drummed on the table. “He said that without me, he wouldn’t be able to survive.”
“When did he tell you all this?” This bit hadn’t been in the case files that Sean Hobbs had sent to him.
“He told me while I stood in the basement of my home and stared at Stephanie Gilbert’s body. The police were on the way, he had Stephanie’s blood on him, and I thought he was about to kill me.”
Every muscle in Dane’s body locked down. He’d heard the story of her entering her home, finding blood, calling 911…then discovering that her fiancé wasn’t the one who was injured.
By the time the cops had arrived on-scene, Valentine had been gone. Katherine—no,
Katelynn
—had been huddled on the floor of the basement, in shock.
“Did he try to hurt you that day?” He kept his question quiet and calm, choking back his own emotions.
“No, he never hurt me.” Her gaze held his. “That’s the part no one understood, right? He was a sadistic killer, but he never so much as even bruised my skin. I was with him…we were engaged for a year. A whole year.”
And she hadn’t known that a killer was in bed with her.
The doorbell rang then, and Katherine jumped at the pealing sound. “Easy,” Dane said as he rose. He was wearing a loose pair of jogging pants, and he sure hadn’t been expecting company at six a.m.
Because he was a suspicious bastard by nature—and because he was lead on a case that was linked to the biggest serial-killer investigation currently running in the United States—he damn well took time to grab his gun before he headed to the door. But a quick glance through the peephole showed him that a perp didn’t wait on the other side of that door. Mac was there.
Dane opened the door. “What’s happened?” And why hadn’t Mac just called him instead of paying a dawn visit?
Mac shoved a newspaper into Dane’s chest as he pushed into the condo. “Another damn leak, that’s what hap—” Mac broke off as his gaze centered on Katherine—Katherine who looked sleep-tousled and sexy and seemed only to be wearing Dane’s shirt.
’Cause she pretty much was.
“I—uh…didn’t expect that,” Mac muttered.
Katherine leapt to her feet. “I didn’t have anything else to wear.”
Dane slammed the front door shut behind his partner.
Mac was looking at the table. The remains of breakfast. He fired a quick glance at Dane. “You cooked?”
Dane glared at him, but then his gaze dropped to the paper. To the
He sat across from her and wondered where in the hell he should start. He’d handled things the wrong way with her at thebeginning. When she’d first come into the station, he’d been too harsh. He was lucky she hadn’t hauled ass out of town.
And when the marshal found out about last night’s little visit, the guy would be pushing once more for her to leave.
I have to keep her in New Orleans.
Because she was the key to the case. The killer had found her in New Orleans. He’d left the package for her, drawing her into his sick little game.
“You aren’t eating,” Katherine said quietly.
He blinked. Realized that, yeah, he’d just been staring at her. Dane quickly shoveled some eggs into his mouth. They tasted like shit.
How was she eating them?
Then he realized…
she just doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.
Huh. Who’d ever cared about that before? He put his fork down. “You can stop,” he said.
Too late. She’d already emptied her plate.
Now she sat back and watched him, her eyes giving no hint of her emotions.
His kitchen table wasn’t exactly a prime interrogation spot, but he didn’t want to question her like a suspect. He just wanted to understand her. “Why do you think he came after you?”
“Because he said that he’d never let me go.”
Cold words. Brittle.
“Valentine said that I fit him. That he needed me.” Her fingers drummed on the table. “He said that without me, he wouldn’t be able to survive.”
“When did he tell you all this?” This bit hadn’t been in the case files that Sean Hobbs had sent to him.
“He told me while I stood in the basement of my home and stared at Stephanie Gilbert’s body. The police were on the way, he had Stephanie’s blood on him, and I thought he was about to kill me.”
Every muscle in Dane’s body locked down. He’d heard the story of her entering her home, finding blood, calling 911…then discovering that her fiancé wasn’t the one who was injured.
By the time the cops had arrived on-scene, Valentine had been gone. Katherine—no,
Katelynn
—had been huddled on the floor of the basement, in shock.
“Did he try to hurt you that day?” He kept his question quiet and calm, choking back his own emotions.
“No, he never hurt me.” Her gaze held his. “That’s the part no one understood, right? He was a sadistic killer, but he never so much as even bruised my skin. I was with him…we were engaged for a year. A whole year.”
And she hadn’t known that a killer was in bed with her.
The doorbell rang then, and Katherine jumped at the pealing sound. “Easy,” Dane said as he rose. He was wearing a loose pair of jogging pants, and he sure hadn’t been expecting company at six a.m.
Because he was a suspicious bastard by nature—and because he was lead on a case that was linked to the biggest serial-killer investigation currently running in the United States—he damn well took time to grab his gun before he headed to the door. But a quick glance through the peephole showed him that a perp didn’t wait on the other side of that door. Mac was there.
Dane opened the door. “What’s happened?” And why hadn’t Mac just called him instead of paying a dawn visit?
Mac shoved a newspaper into Dane’s chest as he pushed into the condo. “Another damn leak, that’s what hap—” Mac broke off as his gaze centered on Katherine—Katherine who looked sleep-tousled and sexy and seemed only to be wearing Dane’s shirt.
’Cause she pretty much was.
“I—uh…didn’t expect that,” Mac muttered.
Katherine leapt to her feet. “I didn’t have anything else to wear.”
Dane slammed the front door shut behind his partner.
Mac was looking at the table. The remains of breakfast. He fired a quick glance at Dane. “You cooked?”
Dane glared at him, but then his gaze dropped to the paper. To the
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