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and out of the victims' apartment buildings? Besides, this is a
secret government organization he works for. I don't think
they'd be too happy with the sort of interest actions like that
would raise."
Jack frowned. "You sure he's not just spinning you a line?"
"He's not. He gave me his full name, by the way. You can
cross-check it against your search for high-society murders."
He dug an electronic notebook out of his pocket. "We came
up with ten possibilities. Tell me his name and I'll cross-check
now."
"Grey Harrison James McConnell the third."
He grinned as he entered the name into the notebook.
"Now that's a moniker you could hang your hat on."
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"Ain't it just." She finished her glass of water and put it
back on the table. "If you're here, who's running the show at
the bar?"
"Bob and Henry are watching the screens. They'll give me
a call if they spot anything odd."
But how would they know, given no one had any idea what
their killer looked like? Except maybe Grey, and he certainly
wasn't telling.
Anger rolled through her. Damn it, he was going to get it
when she saw him again. She'd trusted him, and he'd
drugged her. The fact that he considered it for her own good
was beside the point. She'd trusted him, let him into her
sanctuary, and he'd gone and done that.
Disappointing, to say the least. And a sharp reminder that
no matter what might be going on between them, he was first
and foremost a government man.
"What about the two women I saw at the bar last night?"
"One of them was Genny Jones, as you suspected. We've
got a team staking out her apartment building. The other
woman we haven't been able to trace."
She frowned. "She'd have to have credit records, wouldn't
she?" And all credit cards had photo ID's on them these days.
He grimaced, though his gaze was still on the notebook.
"You'd think Grey would have a credit ID somewhere, too, but
apparently not."
The ice in her stomach stirred again, and her frown grew.
"But that doesn't make sense."
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"Nothing in this case is making a lot of sense." He paused.
"Bingo. It appears your mysterious lover was telling the truth
about his name."
He handed her the notebook. She quickly scanned the
story, taking in the gruesome facts about the murder of his
parents by rogue vampires, and the gutsy escape by him and
his younger sister. Her gaze fell on the picture of the two of
them. Grey was shielding his sister from the cameras, and the
careful neutrality was in his eyes even then. Or maybe it was
the blankness of shock. It couldn't have been easy to watch
vampires tear your parents apart, then have to fight for yours
and your sister's lives. Especially when you were barely ten
years old.
She handed the notebook back to Jack. "What's the bar
owner's name?"
A smile touched his lips. "Elizabeth Jane Magee formally
known as Elizabeth Jane McConnell."
"His sister." At least that explained Grey's certainty that
the owner would not throw them out if security caught them
doing the sexual tango on the dance floor.
Jack nodded. "She obviously didn't trust our ability to solve
this case and called in her brother."
"Well, in some respects she was right, because we're really
no closer now than we were at the beginning." They might
have a scent, but a scent wasn't much good if you couldn't
find the source.
"No " A beep cut across the rest of his words. Jack
stopped and pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket.
"Senior detective Jack Turner speaking."
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He listened, his expression getting darker with every
passing second. The ice in Eryn's stomach grew tighter. She
knew, without even asking, what had happened.
She closed her eyes as he hung up, and wished she could
just block her ears. She didn't want to hear what Jack was
about to say. She really didn't.
"The killer has struck again," he said softly. "Genny Jones
was just found dead in her apartment."
* * * *
Even with full shields up, the smell of death and blood and
sheer evil was so thick in Genny Jones's apartment that Eryn
had to fight the urge to spin around and walk out. She was no
stranger to death, had seen it many times and in many
forms in her years at the coroner's office, but these deaths
had the power to get to her. Maybe because the killer was
taking away the very things that made the victims women
and that was something any woman would react to.
She followed Jack into the bedroom. The forensic team
was still here, so she stopped at the door, keeping her hands
in her coveralls even though she wore gloves. Genny Jones's
body had not yet been taken away, and like the previous
victims, there was enough evidence in the rumpled state of
the bed to indicate lovemaking had occurred. Eryn suspected
that the samples being taken from the body would confirm
this, and that the DNA would match that found on the
previous victims.
Her gaze skated from the shocked expression frozen
forever on Genny Jones's face, to the bloody remnants of
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what had once been breasts down to the gaping hole in her
stomach. Though she'd seen this all before, it had been via
photos. No photo on Earth could ever really convey the
sickening reality. Bile rose, and she swallowed heavily.
Grey had suggested that the killer was going after these
women because they had what he could not love,
acceptance. Why, then, did the killer mutilate them like this?
It didn't make any sense. This was the act of someone who
hated women or at the very least, hated the things that
made them women.
Jack stopped in the middle of the room and turned to face
her. His expression was grim. "The scent the same?"
She nodded. "It's stronger than before. He can't have been
gone all that long."
"Time of death was ten thirty-five. My people got here at
ten forty." Jack's hand rose, as if to thrust his fingers through
his hair before remembering that he wore the coveralls and
plastic hood. "Damn it, we were watching all the entrances.
None of the men Genny Jones had been seeing entered or left
the building."
"Remember what he is. He could have assumed the shape
of anyone living in this building. All he'd have to do was brush
past him."
"Problem with that is the fact that the only men who
entered were accompanied by women. Those men live here
with the women that accompanied them. We've checked.
They're all here, and none of them moved from their
apartments."
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"Then how did the killer get in without being seen? Or
out?" She glanced toward the window.
"Not via them," Jack commented, obviously guessing her
thoughts. "They're locked. Besides, we have cams in the
building opposite."
"And you didn't see the killer?"
"Blinds were drawn in the bedroom."
"What about infrared?"
His expression, if anything, grew grimmer. "It shows them
making love. It wasn't until the bedroom team made their
regular check-in that anyone realized the man making love to
her hadn't been seen walking into the building."
"You obviously got people over here quickly."
"But not quick enough." Jack's cell phone beeped, and he
paused to answer it.
A prickle of unease skated across her skin as his
expression became slightly incredulous. She crossed her
arms, waiting as he told whoever was on the other end of the
phone to wait where they were and he'd be right there.
"What?" she said, the minute he hung up. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]