You don’t want anything screwing it up, Meadows? Then watch out…because Valentine lives to screw with people.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Smith drawled, grabbing the chair across from Valentine. “We aren’t amateurs.”
Valentine started to laugh. Deep, rumbling chuckles as he tossed back his head. Then, with his lips still twisting, he looked away from those two detectives and stared right at the two-way mirror. Right at Dane.
“I’m only talking to Dane and Mac. The rest of the detectives here can f**k off.”
“It’s not about what you want,” Smith began.
Valentine kept staring at the mirror. “Meadows, are you there too?”
The guy stiffened beside Dane.
“You have such a lovely wife,” Valentine said. “Sweet lady, but Tonya doesn’t know about all the deals you make with killers, does she? Bad move, dealing with devils. You could get burned.”
“He did not just f**king say my wife’s name.” A lethal intensity had entered Meadows’s voice.
“Meadows, meet Valentine,” Dane muttered. He had the feeling that Valentine had been ahead of the cops from the beginning.
Was still ahead.
Where was Maggie?
“I haven’t asked for a lawyer,” Valentine said, the heel of his right foot tapping back against his chair leg. “And I won’t.”
“Because you’re a dumb-ass,” Meadows growled.
“But I’m only talking to Dane and Mac.” Valentine’s foot stopped tapping as he leaned back in his chair. The smile slowly faded from his face. “And it’s not like we really have time to waste.”
Meadows was frowning. “He’s bullshitting.”
“Valentine doesn’t bullshit,” Dane replied. The DA should know that. “And maybe you should rethink having Wayne away from the station during the interrogation.”
“Look around,” Valentine said, then widened his eyes innocently. “The gang should all be here, right? But…is someone missing?”
“Margaret,” Meadows whispered.
Dane shook his head. “Maggie wouldn’t be at the station. She never comes here.” She hated that her father was a cop. Hated the danger that had stalked him for her entire life.
The gang…
Dane’s gaze met Mac’s. “Were any cops missing after that explosion? Was there anyone who wasn’t accounted for?” They’d been so busy hunting for Valentine in the swamp. Had he been hunting one of them?
“The longer I wait, the less I’ll share.” Valentine’s gaze flickered to the detectives in the room with him. “You two should just get the hell out.”
“And you need to stop acting like you’re the man in charge,” Forrest said as he sauntered up behind Valentine. “You need to—”
Valentine lunged up from his chair, twisted, and slammed his head into Forrest’s face. Blood spurted from the detective’s nose. He reached for his gun.
The uniforms rushed forward, ready to restrain Valentine.
But the guy just sat back in his chair, as nice as you please. Blood was on his shirt. He was smiling again.
Meadows hit the button for the intercom. “Cuff the bastard to the table.”
The door opened behind Dane. Detective Karen James came inside. Like most of the cops, she was eager to get an up-close look at the killer. Only she shouldn’t have been in there at that moment—when they’d arrived at the station, Karen had been assigned to watch Katherine while Dane met with the DA.
“What happened to Forrest?” Karen asked as she leaned closer to the glass.
“Valentine,” Mac answered.
Dane exhaled slowly. He didn’t like that the killer was still playing his games with them. The whole scene felt wrong. “Where’s Katherine?” Dane asked.
“In Harley’s office,” Karen replied, her gaze still on Valentine. “Don’t worry, your lady’s safe.”
Your lady. “You need to send us in, Meadows,” Dane said, his voice hardening.
“I thought you were fine with us staying out here,” Mac muttered, frowning at him.
“That was before the ass**le asked for us and broke Forrest’s nose.” And said we were running out of time. He’s still playing his games.
Meadows loosened his tie. “I can’t. You’re personally involved. The captain should have pulled you.”
“We brought the bastard in because of our personal involvement. If Katherine hadn’t been working with us, a dozen cops might have died at that house on Oakland. She saved Harley’s life. Every step of the way, she was trying to help us figure out Valentine.”
Dane looked back through the mirror. Forrest had his hand shoved under his nose, trying to stop the blood flow. It looked like the guy was exercising all of his self-control to keep from attacking Valentine.
And Valentine, he was just sitting there as calm as you please.
“I’m sure my propensity for violence is listed in my profile,” Valentine said, straightening his shoulders. “You don’t need to act so surprised by the attack, Detective.”
Listed in my profile…
Dane’s eyes narrowed.
The gang should all be here.
To Valentine, just who all comprised the gang to him? Dane, Mac, Wayne…Ross? “Where’s the marshal?”
Meadows faltered.
“Has anyone seen Anthony Ross?” Dane demanded.
The cops stared blankly at him.
Dane yanked out his phone and tried to get the marshal on the line. Ross would want to know about Valentine—but hell, when they’d brought the killer to the station, the reporters had been waiting for them. Valentine’s new face was already splashed on all the TVs in town.
Ross would have heard the reports. He should have been there.
And Ross wasn’t answering his phone.
Dane’s fingers tightened around the phone. Ross had been at the explosion on Oakland, but Dane hadn’t seen the guy since then. “Was he taken to the hospital after Oakland?” The scene had been chaos. So many injured cops…
No one answered. Shit. Dane called Mercy General, got the attendant to check, but there was no record of an Anthony Ross being treated.
Dane glanced around the room and saw John Baylor. He was damn glad John was there—the man was the best tech support they had. “Trace his phone,” he ordered John.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Meadows began. “If a man doesn’t answer when you call, that doesn’t mean—”