Love Kills (Lilah Love 4)

“To keep tabs on you.”

“Exactly.”

“And most everything I just said is unproven, but damn good in theory. If I’m right, and I believe I am, they won’t kill him until they don’t need him. Until they’re done with us.”

“Until we’re done with them,” Kane amends. “And that’s soon.”

“Which is why I need to find Umbrella Man. Who could be more than one person, by the way. Or, one person with Society helpers. That feels more on point, but it could also be why we don’t catch one familiar person on security feeds.” I grab my MacBook from the floor and sit down behind my desk, snagging paper to begin making a list of everyone I need watched for safety reasons or otherwise, as well as everything I need someone to follow up on. I then email Tic Tac to have him add addresses, names and critical information. The list is long and includes a trip to the pig farm. I know Houston had someone go check out the closest locations at one point but there is something to be found there, something missed. I’m all but done when I blink as Kane sets a cup of coffee and a bag of chocolate in front of me, my thinking tools. I didn’t even know he’d left the room.

“It’s not spiked, but we can fix that,” he says.

“No booze until we’re done with them. Thank you,” I add, reaching for my cup. “See? Still being polite.”

“Well, we both know you know how to say please,” he says then winks.

I laugh because he’s being dirty. God, I do love a dirty Kane Mendez. “I don’t remember that word choice ever.” I sip my coffee and set it down and move on before he details a particular moment when I did, in fact, say please, which he might. “I have the list. How do I get it to Kit?”

“I’ll take it.”

I scoot around in my chair, pull it off the printer behind me and then hand it to him. “You still have someone watching Lily, right?” I ask. “Because she’s intimately involved with a man who was dating Williams. I still believe she could end up a victim.”

“Yes,” he confirms. “Nothing unusual, but I can have the man watching her text you.” He glances at the list he’s now holding. “You don’t have Roger on the list.”

I frown and grab the list. “I do.” I scan for his name. It’s not there. “I swear it’s like I want him to end up dead. I meant to include him. I think I thought we were already watching him.”

He studies me a few beats, and then says, “I’ll add him.”

He moves to his seat and sits down, where his own MacBook is waiting on the table next to it, with a cup of his own. Of course, while studying me, he’d been trying to figure out where my head is on Roger. And where the fuck is my head on Roger? Why did I leave him off the list? What is wrong with me? The Society is watching him. They threatened him. I should want Kane to watch over him. I’m about to go down the emotionless bitch killer profiler rabbit hole, which won’t get my job done, so I shake off those thoughts and text Houston: DNA samples. Where are we?

You really want to do this to law enforcement? he replies.

My response is two words: Yes. Now.

He doesn’t reply, but I can almost feel him cursing. Satisfied that I’ll make him a foul mouth sailor yet, I move on. I open up Tic Tac’s reports and start writing the names of everyone who was at the crime scenes on their own notecard. I’m about five in when Kane’s phone rings, and he stands up and walks out of the room. I sip my coffee and realize that this is the first time I don’t wonder what he’s hiding when he does that. He knows and is on good terms with my demons. It’s time I know his, though, I don’t think he wants me on good terms. I think just the opposite. I think we’re both in trouble when that happens.

I glance down at my notecards and the CSI guy who was taking pictures in the alleyway last night pops in my head. Mitch was his name. I look through the cards that I’ve made from Tic Tac’s list. He’s not here. Name. What was his last name? Mitch. Mitch McAllen, that’s it. I dial Tic Tac. “You need stuff,” he answers, “I know.”

“Finally, you’re getting the hang of this. There was a Mitch McAllen on the CSI team last night. I don’t see him on your list.”

“If he was there, he’s on my list, but hold on. Let me look him up.” His fingers tap the keyboard, and I sip my coffee as several sighs and more key tapping occurs on his end. I put him on speaker, to work while he works, and Kane chooses then to walk into the room.

I point to the phone. “Tic Tac,” I say.

“I’m trying, Lilah,” Tic Tac snaps.

I scowl at the phone. “That’s very disrespectful, and you’re on speakerphone.”

“Oh God,” he groans. “Tell me Murphy isn’t there.”

Kane arches a brow and sits down. I furrow mine. “Is Murphy here?”

“He said he was headed that way.”

And he didn’t tell me? I don’t like where that’s leading. “Great,” I murmur. “Go ahead and shoot me.”

“He listens to this recorded line, Lilah,” Tic Tac says.

“You let him listen to your cellphone?” I challenge, because, of course, he doesn’t.

Kane laughs, and Tic Tac groans, “Oh God,” again. “Is that—is that Kane?”

“Yes, Tic Tac,” Kane confirms, amusement lighting his brown eyes. “I’ll send someone right over to kill you, too. Can I have the address?”

Tic Tac gives a choked laugh. “You’re funny. He’s funny. He’s joking, right, Lilah?”

“Mitch McAllen, Tic Tac. Focus.”

“There is no Mitch McAllen on the CSI team or with the department at all. I even checked contractors. He doesn’t exist.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“Is it him? Is he the killer?” Tic Tac asks.

“No.” I glance at Kane who arches a brow in challenge. “Maybe,” I concede. “I need you to go through the security feed and find the CSI guy taking photos. Send me that footage.”

“There’s no footage in the alleyway itself,” he says. “And I didn’t see him. The first footage we have is a block away.”

“Holy fuck! I do not have time for this,” I grind out. “Look for the CSI jacket. Mid-forties with a salt and pepper beard. And pale green eyes that stand out.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he says. “But—”

“Do better, Tic Tac. People are dead. More are going to be dead.” I hang up and look at Kane. “I just did to him what you said Roger did to me, right?”

“That man is never going to believe he’s a killer.”

“That statement says something about me that I’ll analyze later.” I pick up my phone from the desk and consider my next move. “I need to know if Houston knows this guy.”

“But?” Kane prods.

“What if he’s a part of this? What if he’s Umbrella Man, and this says I’m close, and they need to end this before we end this?”

“Is this Umbrella Man?”

“My gut says no, but he’s clearly a part of this.” I make my decision. “I have to call Houston.”

I dial him, and he answers on the first ring. “Tell me you have something to save my ass right now.”

“There was a man I met on the scene, name is Mitch McAllen. Forties, salt and pepper beard. Pale green eyes. He was wearing a CSI jacket, and he was taking pictures.”

“Holy fuck. Mitch was there? In a CSI jacket? That little prick.”

My eyes rocket to Kane’s. “Who is he?”

“A reporter. I’ll handle him. I hate that piece-of-shit. If I ever committed murder, he’d be my victim, and I’d have no regrets. Anything else before I go personally beat his fucking ass? Don’t say DNA testing. I’m doing it. I said I’m doing it.”

“Then that would be all.”

“And his name isn’t Mitch McAllen. It’s David Moore, but the eyes and the beard give him away. Lying sack of shit. I’ll get back to you.” He hangs up.

Reporter, I say, texting Tic Tac the news, adding, Back to the drawing board.

I’m about to type more, but stop with a thought tha

t has me calling Houston back.

“I don’t know who I want to avoid more,” he answers. “You or the mayor.”

“I want that reporter’s DNA.”

He barks out laugher. “He’s no killer. He’s obviously too dumb to be this killer in particular, but you know what? I’m going to enjoy asking for it. Serves him right for sneaking onto our crime scene. Done.” He hangs up. I set my phone down and pick it up again to text Tic Tac: Look for that reporter on the security feed from the other crime scenes, too.

Kane’s phone buzzes with a text that he gives a quick glance. “Kit’s on his way. I’m going to give him your list.” He exits the room, and I start writing out notecards again.

This time, I focus on extracting important pieces of the data Tic Tac provided, but end up doing what I have yet to do. Writing names on notecards to include: Lily, Sally, Thomas, Houston, Melanie, Roger, me, Kane, Detective Williams, each of the victims, my father, and even Pocher. I pin the victims in a row on one of my cork boards and write out details about their lives. I write out additional cards for people who donated to my father’s campaign who have a direct link to this case such as Roger, Houston, and Melanie.