Love you to Death by Shannon K. Butcher Page B

maneuver around all that damn furniture.
    The woman was going to get herself killed looking for her sister. She was going to poke her nose into places it shouldn’t be and end up getting it lopped off.
    None of his business.
    Any minute now, she’d walk out that door and get in her car. She’d drive over to Sally’s and start asking dangerous questions. Even if no one there knew what had happened to Ashley, he’d bet his house that several people there had secrets to keep. That place wasn’t exactly the safest hangout, which was why it was popular among the younger, thrill-seeking crowds.
    It was the first place he’d go if he wanted to find drugs, especially party drugs. He didn’t know if Ashley was into them or not, but if she was, Elise was going to run into the wrong person fast when she started asking around.
    And when she did…
    None of his business.
    Trent was not going to crack. He was not going to go over there and stop her. If she wanted to get herself killed, it was her decision. She was a grown woman and perfectly able to make whatever stupid decisions she wanted.
    Not stupid. Desperate.
    That’s what she’d told him.
    What lengths would he go to if Sam went missing? Would he sit around doing nothing, or stick to only safe routes of investigation if it was his brother’s life on the line?
    Not a fucking chance. He’d be out there, doing whatever he could—whatever it took to find Sam. He’d take on drug dealers and their thugs ten at a time if that’s what it took. He’d do just what Elise was doing.
    Only he’d know what he was getting himself into; he’d have the muscle and the attitude to keep the low-life scumbags from thinking he was an easy target, which would make it a hell of a lot safer.
    Elise didn’t have any of that going for her. All she had was a burning need to find Ashley and a mouth that was likely to get her into trouble.
    She came out the front door and locked it behind her. The porch light was on, bathing her body in light, making her bare skin glow. And there was a whole bunch of it glowing.
    Her dress looked more like a long, clinging shirt, ending only a few scant inches below necessity. Her shoulders were bare but for two minuscule straps holding the dress up—if that’s what one could call up. The thing plunged down so far in back he was sure he could see a couple of dimples only her lovers or doctors should have been able to discover.
    As she headed for the car, the black dress caught and held splinters of light, shimmering in a way that caught his attention, even from across the street. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Once she got inside the walls of Sally’s Bar, every eye would be on her.
    Trent was sure she’d done it on purpose. He was equally sure that there was no way he was going to let her go alone. Not dressed like that. If she got into trouble, she couldn’t even run away on those tiny, stilt-high heels.
    He tossed the antacids in his mouth and chewed them as he headed out the door.
    Detective Ed Woodward covered what was left of the woman’s body with a sheet.
    “How’d you find her?” Ed asked Officer Talley, one of the uniformed officers who had secured the scene.
    “Report came in about two hours ago. Homeless guy called it in from a pay phone about a mile away. He was long gone by the time we got here.”
    “Did he say anything else?”
    “Just that she’d been decapitated. That’s why we called you.”
    Ed had been investigating the recent headless, handless victims’ deaths for two months, and he still had nothing to go on. Whoever had killed these women knew how to keep evidence of themselves off the victims—assuming it was even the same guy. Of course, dumping them in the river helped wash away anything the perp might have left behind.
    In the moonlight, the white fabric glowed in stark contrast to the muddy ground. Without the head, the drape of the fabric was oddly distorted. Sickening.
    “How many does this make now?” asked