Love Me Dead (Lilah Love 3)

“You always do,” Tic Tac replies. “First, before I forget, the sister you asked about is a sorority sister.”

I check that question off the list. “What else?”

“Ralph Redman. I assume he’s your killer?”

“If only it were that simple, but this is far more evil than a man who did his dirty work and offed himself when he was done. Consider Redman a victim.”

“He killed himself.”

“Like I said, consider Redman a victim. And somehow, someway, all of these cases connect to someone in law enforcement. There’s no other conclusion when we have someone calling themselves Roger getting to key supervisors and evidence missing. Look at everyone connected to me or Williams for the past year.”

“What the hell is this? Redman killed himself.”

“Okay, Tic Tac, let me be clear. If someone was holding a gun to Mike’s head and told you to shoot yourself or they’d shoot him, what would you do?”

“I guess it comes down to if I actually believe the person holding the gun really will shoot.”

“You believe him. What do you do?”

“Shoot myself,” he says. “That’s Evil.”

“The kind you don’t underestimate. The kind Stephen King makes up in his books and is never real, except it is.” I don’t give him time to reply. I need stuff. Now. “I need you to do an interview for me.”

“Me? I don’t do interviews. I’m the tech guy.”

“I can’t trust anyone. I trust you. I need you to make calls yourself. Find out from the family and friends of Mia and Shelly if they had OCD. Find out from medical records. Find anyone close to them who are.”

“Where is this headed?”

“Just find out. I need to make another call.”

“Lilah—”

“Jeff,” I say, making this personal. “He’s going to kill again. Most likely Detective Williams, who I predict to be a prisoner right now. Make the calls. Make them quickly. And get me a timeline for the victims. Did they disappear before they were killed? When were they last seen? Who last saw them?”

“Has the local law enforcement found out nothing?”

“I had evidence disappear that I personally bagged on scene. So, have they found out anything? I have an entire file they put together, but I trust nothing I’m told by them. Am I going to tell you what it says, no. I want what we do to be untainted by what they do.”

“Aren’t people going to be irritated that I call again, after they already heard from the police?”

“And you know what you say to them if they do? You say, so sorry to irritate you with a murder. Did the victim irritate you as much when she was alive? That’ll shut them up.” There’s a tingling sensation down my spine. I’m being watched. “If you need help, call Murphy. I need to go.”

I hang up and pause at a corner by a light, discreetly scanning the area. “Are you here?”

“Yeah.”

“So is he. I feel him.”

“You want to try and trap him?”

“If only he were that stupid. He doesn’t know you’re there. Make sure he doesn’t. I’m going to Kane’s.”

“I figured that out, and I think that’s smart.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I needed: your opinion. Because if you didn’t think it was smart—”

“This part of you is inbred, isn’t it?”

“My really funny jokes? Yes.” I move on. “Kill him if you see him. I’ll take the blame. You have my word.”

“I don’t need to be told twice.”

I disconnect and dial my old partner, Greg. The light changes as I leave him a voicemail. “I got your job back on a big case. Call me. Now.”

I disconnect and dial Kane. “Lilah.”

“Watch your back. This asshole wants me. He could come at you.”

“Where are you?”

“On my way to Purgatory.”

He’s silent a moment, digesting the fact that I’m really going to go to his place. “I have some business to finish up, but I’ll be there soon.”

“Good. Someone has to protect you.”

“But who’s going to protect you from me, Lilah? Isn’t that always your question?”

“I do believe I’ve proven myself quite capable where you’re concerned, Kane Mendez. You can test me tonight, if you so please.”

He laughs, low and deep, and disconnects. Fuck. I love that man’s laugh. If Umbrella Man comes for him, he’ll be sorry, because if he touches Kane, I’ll stop pretending I don’t like killing assholes like him. I’ll embrace my inner Dexter. Who am I kidding? If Umbrella Man goes at Kane, Umbrella Man will end up in a corner sucking his thumb, suffering until Kane hands him to me in pieces.

What does it say about me that I know this about Kane and still Kane remains the only person in my life who knows and understands me?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I walk into the Madison Avenue building where Kane lives, where we both used to live, and I swear to myself I’m not going to make a big deal out of being here. It’s not a big deal. I need to use Purgatory. I’m not moving back in. I’m not getting that serious with Kane again, but even as I have that thought and step onto the stone floors of the lobby, memories crash over me, impossible to escape. So is the security desk to the right of the door, where the security guard, Kit—a tall, brooding, fit Mexican man who smiles big and kills easily—greets me. I like him, and it’s not for his smile.

“Lilah fucking Love,” he greets. “I heard you were back.”

“I’m certain that wasn’t Kane, considering he wouldn’t presume that I’m back just because I’m in the same city.”

He laughs. “No comment.” He winks. “Glad to have you in the building.” He sets a long yellow envelope on the counter. “This came for you.”

I take it and glance at him. “From who?”

His attention sharpens. “A courier delivered it. Problem?”

“I’ll let you know after I look at it.” I lower my voice. “I have an enemy. A dangerous enemy. The kind that might scare someone like say you, and with good reason.”

“Kane informed me of the situation. I’ve taken precautions.”

“Even when you’re not here?”

He arches a brow but doesn’t ask a question. “Yes,” is all he says. But then, this is Kane’s man, after all. He’s seen far more than I can probably imagine.

“Okay then. Power on.” I don’t wait for agreement, I start walking, but I don’t even think about opening the envelope here in the middle of the lobby. Without hesitation, I punch in a code in the elevator, certain it will work. The car moves and carries me to the seventeenth floor. The doors open, and I step into a small foyer that’s nothing more than stone floors and glass walls to allow Kane to se

e who has entered. The panel next to a silver door that lifts requires fingerprint entry—that’s how careful Kane is—and that’s how present I still am in this apartment. I walk to the panel, stick my finger on the pad, and the sliding silver doors before me open.

Kane will now be notified of my presence.

I enter the apartment, and I try not to let the room affect me. I see it, I do, but it’s just a room of towering ceilings and windows, with gray wooden floors. There above, connected by three levels of glass and tiled stairs to my left, are just rooms. It’s all beautiful. It’s stunning. It’s dripping with money, but none of this defines me or Kane. Blood defines us. Murder defines us. I can’t forget how we came to be and how we divided.

I walk to the main living area distinguished by a gray rug and a distinct accent wall, with a massive painting of the cove where we used to go to talk. He had that painting custom made when I moved into this place with him. I sit down on one of the light gray chairs, accenting the gray couch and coffee table, and focus on the envelope.

I set it on the coffee table and slide my bag onto the couch, pulling out a pair of gloves, before I open it and find a file with a note on top:

Agent Love:

Houston is with us. His file is included for your review. We align. Trust him. Your friend, Greg, I vetoed his involvement. He is not what he seems. Call me after you read the file.

—Murphy

Irritated, I grab my phone and call him now. “How do you know where I’m at? Are you having me followed?”

“Agent Love, I don’t have to have you followed to know that you’ll be with Kane Mendez.”

“Kane and I—” I hesitate. “Did you give me this job because of Kane?”

“You are what matters, but yes, you’re a complete package, and yes, Kane is part of that package. Does that bother you?”

“Kane is a complicated man.”

“Kane is a powerful man who frankly scares the shit out of me, Agent Love, but I don’t run from what scares me. If I did, I’d run from you. What do I need to know about today?”