Midnight Sins (Midnight 2)

McNeal’s eyes rose, then pinned Todd in his chair. “And she’s gonna keep quiet?”

He hoped. “I think so.” The woman had been shell-shocked, but before the ambulance attendants loaded her up, she’d grabbed his hand and told him, voice hoarse from the fire and Cameron’s powerful grip, “You’re right. No one’s ready for this.”

“And the two uniforms?” McNeal demanded. “Billy Mane and Tyler Johnson? They’re both backing up the story about the fire?”

With a little help from Cara. “Yes.”

McNeal grunted.

“Todd secured the scene,” Colin said. “He did the damn best he could under the circumstances and—”

“Hell, stop defending him, Gyth.” McNeal closed the report with a snap. “I know he secured the scene the only way he could.”

Hmm. Nice of Colin to back him up. Maybe he’d finally forgiven him for the whole your-lover-might-be-a-killer thing.

The bastard should have forgiven him—Todd wasn’t holding a grudge against Colin for suspecting Cara. Mostly because he’d thought she was guilty in the beginning, too.

They were both idiots.

But it looked like they’d officially gotten past the twisted shit in their lives and gone back to being a team again.

“I just want to know,” McNeal growled, “if Brooks here thinks that bastard Niol was involved in the torching.” His lips pursed.

“’Cause that part wasn’t in this neat little report.”

“Sir.” He kept his voice calm. “This is the report that you want presented to the DA and the mayor, correct?”

Another grunt.

“The report tells, clearly, that when I entered the alley, I discovered Cameron Komak, burning. I tried to put out the flames.

Several other witnesses”—that would be Niol, Cara, and Holly Storm—“soon entered the alley. The police were notified.

Unfortunately, the heat from the flames was so intense that Cameron died on scene.”

“And when I went to Cameron Komak’s house after I was informed of the incident,” Gyth picked up the story with barely a pause,

“I found undeniable evidence to link him to the killings of Simon Battle, Travis Walters, Michael House, and Susan Dobbs.” Now, that part was actually true. The guy had made a whole f**king wall in his place dedicated to the crimes. He’d had clothing belonging to the victims, photos—a f**king sick shrine.

Gyth shook his head. “The man apparently had an obsession with Cara Maloan, and in his twisted mind, he was punishing Cara by attacking the men who showed interest in her.”

“And framing her for their deaths, right.” A hard exhalation of air from McNeal “Nice little package you’ve got for me.” He leaned back in his chair. “Nice pretty bow you put on the case.”

Todd’s shoulders stiffened. “Komak was the one who tied things up with that damn wall.” He’d gone to the apartment after Gyth had notified him and seen it for himself— fucking insane.

“This report will be fine for the mayor and the DA and any of those other vulture reporters who want info on the case.” McNeal picked up a pen, began to tap it casually against the desktop. “But you left out a few details…like, oh, say, just how the hell did Cameron Komak catch on fire?”

He pissed off a demon. Todd didn’t speak those words, because he didn’t have proof. He had a suspicion that went straight to his soul, but there was no way anyone would ever be able to prove Niol’s involvement. “We don’t know how the fire started. Smith’s looking at the body. She’ll be in soon to brief you on what she’s got.”

“And what about his alibis? They checked out and—”

“The alibis were given by humans,” Colin reminded him.

“And Komak planted the memories in their heads,” Todd said. “They never actually saw him those nights—he just used his demon power,” which was pretty damn scary, “to make them think they had.”

“Hell.” Disgust coated McNeal’s voice. “These cases just get harder and harder.”

Todd shrugged. “’Cause the criminals are a different breed.” One that he’d be ready to face now, head-on.

He rose slowly, pushing up from his chair. He was bruised and sore as hell from the fall he’d taken in the alley, and he couldn’t wait to go home and curl up in bed with his succubus.

“Where the hell are you goin’?” McNeal demanded.

“Don’t you know, Captain?” Colin asked, and a smile lifted his lips. “The man’s got a date waiting.”

“Hmm.” McNeal’s dark brows bunched. “With the succubus?” No censure. Just curiosity.

Todd gave a stiff nod.

“Be careful with that one, Brooks. A woman like her, if she gets away from you, you’ll spend the rest of your life kicking your own ass.”

Then Todd was the one to smile. “Don’t worry, Captain, I don’t have any intention of letting her go.”

“Um.” He tracked his gaze over to Colin. “You gonna finish filling me in?”

A nod.

McNeal jerked his thumb toward the door. “Then get the hell out of here, Detective. I think you’ve more than earned some rest…

or a night off with your lady.”

Todd didn’t have to be told twice.

He found her sitting at the edge of her pool, staring down into the glowing water. She wore a loose, flowing top and a pair of dark shorts. In the faint light, her pale legs gleamed.

He’d kept his distance from her all day, knowing that the media glare would be on the case, and needing to wait until he’d presented his report to the captain before he got close to her again.

But, at least for him, the case was over now. The killer had been caught.

Killed.

Not by his hand, and not in a way that he understood. Because he could have sworn when he battled those flames—they had been coming from inside Cameron’s body.

Impossible.

Or, at least that’s what he would have thought, once.

Cara didn’t glance up at his approach, but he saw her shoulders stiffen, and he knew that she was aware of him.

He walked toward her slowly, stopping only when he was close enough to reach out and touch her—and he did, lifting his hand to smooth over the long silk of her hair.

“Are you…” her voice, husky, sexy, made him ache, “going after him?”