Love Me Dead (Lilah Love 3)

“You might be decent at your job.”

“I’ll tell you a secret: Murphy doesn’t hire assholes and bitches who can’t get the job done. I’m gone now to do my job. You be gone, too, out of the building.”

“I said you might be good at your job. That’s not good enough, and this is my jurisdiction now. I’m not going anywhere. Get me suited up.”

He scowls the way Andrew had—I do that to people—but I get what I want. I take over the scene, and I suit up. I’m on the hunt for a killer who I intend to kill before he kills again. Kane is on his way to Texas where I believe he intends to kill someone, too. We are both the perfect couple and a perfect nightmare.

***

The pig tells a story, and it’s not about the three little piggies that went to market. It’s about an asshole who kills animals and women. Maybe he’d even kill children. I want him dead. I don’t even pretend otherwise. If Umbrella Man’s messages tell a story, it’s not the one he wants it to tell. It’s about his own death.

With Kane gone, but on my mind, and the dead pig taunting me like it’s a killer, the investigation proves slow going and tedious. Samples are collected. Interviews are done. Cameras were knocked out despite high security. No one seems to know where the cake went, but it was seen here at the museum, which at least tells us the investigation starts here, not at the cake shop. One worker even took a photo. No one has any idea how the pig could have been snuck in, but I do. This is someone in law enforcement. The dramatics of the pigs still might be what does Umbrella Man in. Any sample of soil or a twig could tell us where he went to get the pigs he’s slaughtered.

It’s hours later and after midnight when I finally slide into the back seat of the hired car where I find Jay waiting for me, and a driver behind the wheel. “I’m done. We can leave.”

Jay motions to the driver, and we start moving. “Anything from Kane?” I ask.

“Kane doesn’t report to you or me. You don’t know as much as I thought you did or you wouldn’t ask me that.”

“And so we wait.”

“Because you won’t call him.”

“I’m not going to distract him and get him killed.”

“I reverse my decision,” he declares. “You know more than I thought you knew.”

I don’t reply with a normal “fuck you” or some other remark. Exhaustion has taken hold. I need to sleep. I need to hear from Kane. I grab my phone and open a text message. I don’t know what to type, and no matter what I choose, I could still distract him. I slide my phone back into my purse.

A few minutes later, Jay follows me into the apartment. “There’s a spare bedroom off the kitchen or downstairs,” I say. “Use one.”

“I need to be in the main room by the door.”

“If you sleep on my fancy couch, I’ll shoot you. Your decision.”

“Floor it is.”

“And don’t eat my ice cream.”

“Or you’ll shoot me.”

“Exactly. Now you’re learning. I’m going to bed.” I head toward the stairs.

“I guess pink doesn’t make you less of a bitch,” he calls after me.

I ignore him, and it’s not long before I’m laying in bed, the scent of Kane all around me, but he hasn’t called. I’m thinking about him, not the killer. Kane is strong. He’s smart. He doesn’t die easily, but this trip is not a normal trip. I told him to do what he had to do. I told him I’d accept what he had to become. I gave him a license to kill, but those who kill can be killed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

I wake to my cellphone ringing, but, this time, it’s also to sunshine and an empty bed. My phone is laying on my chest. I grab it and answer without looking at the number. “Kane?”

“The press is a nightmare.” It’s Houston, and I grimace and throw away the blankets. “They’re all over me, the station, and yes, we made the headlines,” he continues. “There’s a picture of the pig. And it gets worse. One headline reads ‘Serial Killer in New York City.’”

“Of course it does,” I say, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “This is what he wants, and after last night, what we all should have expected.”

“What the mayor and the DA want is my blood. I’d ask you to come in, but you’ll get us both fired. You with them scares me.”

“Me with them is what they deserve, but it’s not what I deserve. I’m not going. I’m working the case.”

“Can you catch him already?”

I hang up. Asshole. Like I’m not trying, but he’s right; I need to catch the killer already. I glance at the clock and read the ten am hour. Kane’s been gone twelve hours, and it’s twelve hours of silence. “Damn it,” I murmur, and this part of living with Kane isn’t going to be easy. It was much easier when we pretended I didn’t know what was going on when we both pretended these trips were just straight-up business. He’s alive or Jay would have told me. Or maybe he wouldn’t.

Damn it again, I need to work and stay busy. I hurry into the bathroom and take a quick shower. It’s close to eleven when I’m finally dressed in jeans, a black tank top, and sneakers. My hair is even dry. I’m going to be brilliant today. I did only put mascara on one eye at one point, but I fixed it. That’s all that really matters. And my socks don’t match, but no one will know, except fucking Kane if he would just come home. I head downstairs and find Jay asleep on the floor. “Move to the bed,” I call out. “I’m awake and without coffee, which means I’m ready to shoot anyone who walks in the door. I’ll also enjoy shooting whoever comes in the door.” I start a pot of coffee. My cellphone rings, and it’s my brother.

“You okay?”

I frown. “What the fuck, Andrew. Am I okay? Of course, I’m fucking okay. Are you?”

“No, I’m not okay. I spent hours with dad, the mayor, and Roger, hearing about how creepy this case is you’re working.”

“No Pocher?”

“He doesn’t associate with us lower beings except in public.”

“Ah well none of those lower beings talking about my case know everything. It’s much worse than they think.”

“And that helps me feel better how?”

I sit down at the island and listen to my coffee brewing. It’s a sweet sound. “I’m sorry. Did mom give birth to me to make you feel better because no one gave me those instructions?”

“You don’t follow instructions.”

“True.” I sigh. “Look, Andrew. This is what I do, and Kane keeps me and him surrounded by security. One of which is asleep on my floor right now.”

“What the hell did you do to him?”

“Get up, Jay! Go to the bed,” I call out and then to Andrew, “I beat him. He deserved it. Then I made him sleep on my living room floor.” I change the subject. “As for your little trio of plotters. I claimed jurisdiction on this case. It’s federal now. The mayor, our daddy dearest, and Roger have no say.”

“Why exactly did you do that?”

“Because this is personal. This guy used my boss, an FBI Director, to get to me. He wanted me. He got me. We’re playing a game. I always win at games. You know this.”

“This isn’t Monopoly.”

“But I always won, right?”

There’s a call on his radio, and I hear the words “Police Chief.”

“I have to go. Be careful. The mayor really hates you. I, on the other hand, love you, Lilah.”

He doesn’t wait for my reply. Love stuff gets awkward for the Love family. Perhaps the name predisposed us to that.

Jay drags himself to the kitchen. “Kane wanted you to call him when you woke up.”

I have a good poker face, I do; I can have a killer hold a gun on me and never blink, but I know relief is washing over my expression like I’m a kid standing under Niagara Falls right now. I give a nod, fill a cup of coffee and sweeten it, before heading back upstairs where I can speak in private. The minute I’m in Purgatory at my desk, I dial Kane.

“Morning, beautiful.”

I breathe out, just the sound of his voice is pure relief. “You should have fucking called sooner, Kane Mendez. Really. What the fuck?”

He gives a low laugh. “Worried?”

“Yes. I’m fucking worried. I was worried last night. I’m worried now.”

“I had things to take care of when I arrived. You know that.”

“And?”

“I’ll tell you in person.”

“Give me something.”

“The problem is contained.”

“And you are?”

“Not my uncle.”

“That’s almost unexpected.”

“You underestimate me.”

“Never,” I assure him.

“What’s happening there?”

“You know what matters. Another dead pig. An asshole father. The press going crazy. That sums up the key points.”

“Any leads?”

“Not a one.”

Someone says something to him in Spanish. “I need to go. I’m going to be back tonight, and Lilah, it’s good to have you worry about me.” He hangs up.

I scowl at the phone. “You’re an asshole, Kane. Giving me a reason to worry sucks.” I toss it down and get to work. I need to relook at everything fresh, except having Jay in the house feels weird. About an hour into my work, I head downstairs and find him on the couch, watching sports.

He stands up. There’s a bag of Cheetos in front of him. “We going somewhere?”

“You ate my damn Cheetos?”

“I can’t shoot someone if I’m weak.”