Something Wicked: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense by Angela Campbell Page B

those guys. I see a history of domestic violence with them. Nasty stuff.”
    Surprise lit up Reedus’s face again. “Yeah, one of the guy’s wives led us to some evidence from the crime scene he’d kept. She was glad to get rid of him. Open and shut case.”
    “And you’re telling me this didn’t get any media?” Dylan asked.
    Reedus shook his head. “Not much. The victim’s family had disowned him because of his sexual orientation, and quite frankly, I think his father—a real religious asshole—was a bit relieved to be rid of him. They were ashamed, but fine believing it was suicide. No one on the force really took an interest in proving otherwise either. Times were different back then. If the killer’s sister hadn’t come forward, it would have remained a suicide.”
    “What about when it was solved?” Dylan couldn’t believe this. There had to be some explanation for Alexandra’s guesses.
    “Sure, they ran a piece on the local news. I think it lasted about thirty seconds. End of story.”
    Dylan shook his head and addressed the woman across from them. “Tell me this. If you were getting your information from a spirit connected to that necklace, why weren’t you one hundred percent accurate?”
    She released a sigh. “I don’t know, Dylan. My best guess is that it’s like a radio signal. Every now and then there’s some interference. I hear the information wrong or it comes across distorted because of something screwy in the transmission.”
    Alexandra held up a hand before he could voice his next thought. “Look, you gave me nothing, and I gave you a lot. I think you’re just determined to find excuses, which is your prerogative. Stupid, but your prerogative. I’d really like to get back to the case I volunteered to help you with. Okay?”
    Reedus chuckled and gestured toward her. “I like this woman, Collins. We should work with her more often.”
    Yeah, and Dylan knew why. All it took was a pretty face and a hot body to win Reedus’s favor. He muttered a curse and put the bagged necklace back in the folder. Doubts nibbled at his conviction that she was a fraud.
    Zach had been pretty convincing on TV, too. Don’t forget that.
    Zach. He didn’t like the way he kept thinking about his brother today after working years to forget the bastard ever existed. He’d been twelve when his older brother had taken off, abandoned him and their mother as if they’d meant nothing, and Dylan had been a senior in high school when his girlfriend had pulled him over to her TV to watch a new show she’d become fixated on.
    The Psychic Detective
, starring Zachary Collins. “Gee, you kinda look like him, too,” his girlfriend had commented before asking if there was any relation.
    Dylan had been horrified to realize his brother was actually passing himself off as a psychic. Zach had never shown any ounce of having those abilities growing up. He’d known it was a scam, had been pissed as hell that the brother he’d once worshipped had been unworthy of his praise.
    The word “psychic” had been a hot button for him ever since.
    But maybe he was being too narrow-minded. Just because his brother was a fraud didn’t mean they all were.
    “Look,” he told Alexandra. “I’m willing to listen to whatever it is you have to tell me.” He leaned across the table. “But the second it becomes obvious to me that you’re conning me, that’s it. I’m done.”
    A beautiful smile lit up her face. “Sounds fair to me. Can we get started now? I mean, seriously.”
    “Wait here. I’ll go get the file so we can go over what we already know.”
    If Alexandra King could help him solve this case, great. If not, he hadn’t lost anything but a little time.
    ***
    Alexandra’s behind hurt from sitting too long, so she stood to pace the room while she once again studied the crime scene photos Dylan had shared with her.
    She stared at the close-up photograph of Candice Christopher’s face. She was the young woman