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

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.”

“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?”