Murder Girl (Lilah Love 2)

CHAPTER THIRTY

“I could ticket you for pollution.”

At the sound of my brother’s voice, I turn to find him joining me on the boat. “I was just ridding myself of some dirt. I would think you’d want to do the same.”

“We’re back to this?”

“We never left this.”

“Then let me repeat what I told you before. Whatever you think you know, Lilah, you don’t.”

“Why was your phone off?”

“I was in a meeting.”

“Vibrate works just fine.”

“Pocher takes our phones. He’s that paranoid.”

“What? He’s afraid someone will know he gets off on the vibrations or what?”

“Can you ever not be a smart-ass?”

“Yes,” I say, though that quite possibly might be a lie. “Just not on the days I’m covered in the blood of two dead men after one of them came close to killing me. Back to you. Your phone. You are the police chief. You can’t just turn it off.”

“Eddie was on call.”

“Yeah, well, that worked great. His phone was off.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t fire him, sister. In case you didn’t notice, he’s dead right fucking now.”

“Stop cursing at me!”

“You curse at me all the fucking time. He was my friend. He’s dead, and you came damn close to joining him. Now is not the time to throw daggers at each other.”

“You scared me. And for more than one reason, so yes. I will throw daggers and keep throwing them until you feel them enough to get your shit straight.”

“I have my shit straight. And you scared me, too. I couldn’t get that asshole off you.”

“But you did, and I killed him. Right after you wouldn’t answer your phone and I thought he was going to kill you. Don’t do that again.”

We stare at each other, and he scrubs his jaw. “Damn it. I don’t want us to fight.”

“Me either.”

“You see monsters where there are no monsters.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, Lilah. I am sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“What else do I say? I hate fucking blood and I’m wearing it. Nothing about this conversation is going to improve at this very moment.”

“You’re right. You need to go clean up and rest. Unless you have an objection as lead on this case, I’ll run the crime scene.”

I want to control it myself. I want back on that boat. I want to look for clues, but to what end? The only place they could lead is the Society, and I need room to breathe to figure out how to hurt them. I need them to think that I backed out. “Take the scene,” I say. “I’ll make a statement tomorrow and follow up on the details as they unfold.”

“That works, but give me something to go on. What do you know about the killer?”

“They call him the Gamer. And my boss says he’s known, but not beyond the nickname. He was—is—a big deal. This was a win, he said.”

“You believe he killed them all?”

“Yes. Including Woods.”

He paused a beat, two at the most. “And this closes the case?”

Closing the case is all he cares about. Nothing else. I want to shake him. I want him to care about something other than covering for Pocher. I want to tell him that Pocher killed Mom, but now isn’t the time for that either. “He confessed,” I say, and then I add a willing lie I intend to get back to the Society. And I do so because it leads me to an open field where the Society will roam and graze, and I will poison them. Destroy them. Hurt them first. “He said it was personal,” I continue. “I have no proof if it was or was not, so yes. I’m closing it.”

“Who gave you the tip to come here tonight?”

“I told you. It was anonymous.”

“Delivered by who and how?”

The push makes me feel like he’s asking this for someone else. “A stranger on the street,” I say, offering him a method that is impossible to check when I add, “a kid. A teen. He ran off before I could get more from him.”

“Then it’s over?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We need this behind us. I’ll have a patrol car take you home.”

“Work the scene. Use your people to take care of your people.”

“Because you’re leaving with Kane.”

“With my boss’s blessing,” I assure him.

“Really?” he asks, sounding less than convinced, but then I had about the same reaction.

“No. I lied because I want to fuck him all night long.”

“Jesus, Lilah. Give me a break for just one night. I’ll call you when this is done.”

“It’s got to be midnight. Call me in the morning.”

He nods and starts to turn and then hesitates. “Your boss is right. This is a big win. It’s over and you’re alive.” He walks away, leaving me with a million ways to take that statement, and I don’t like the similarities to my father’s earlier tone. But if I analyze that thought now, I could lose my shit and go after his. I need sleep. I need a shower. I need to think. And my wet clothes are a constant chill on my mind and body.

I step off the boat and work my way through the busy walkway, and this time I don’t stop. I hurry toward the yellow tape with the intent of continuing on to the parking lot, where I am certain Kane will be waiting for me. Another moment where I realize that the only person I’m ever certain of is Kane. And Rich. I know I can predict Rich’s actions, because he is an honorable man. I duck under the tape, and I’ve traveled all of two steps when Alexandra is in front of me, halting my progress. Next thing I know, she’s sobbing and throwing her arms around me, seemingly oblivious to the blood all over me. She starts this frantic mumbling of things I can’t even understand before she pulls back, her eyes and nose red. Her cheeks are tear-streaked, yet this emotional display feels fake to me. And sure enough, she now has blood on her cheek and probably more hidden in the black of her T-shirt.

“Eddie and I were fighting,” she says. “The last words I said to him were not nice.”

Not nice.

That’s her version of cussing him out.

It reads like a woman putting the finishing touches on the stage set. Did she do exactly what it seems, to me, she did? Set a stage and let someone else attack?

“I have to see him,” she says, starting to pass me. “I have to—”

I grab her arm. “No. You can’t go past the tape.”

“I have to see him!”

“Alexandra.”

At my brother’s voice, I whirl around as he catches her shoulders. “You need to calm down,” he brilliantly tells her, like that won’t set her off all over again. “And you shouldn’t be here or driving.”

“I am going to see him!” she shouts, proving my point and not even slightly calmed down. “Move out of my way.”

Two officers step to Andrew’s side, and Alexandra just gets bigger and louder in their presence. A few minutes of chaos follow that end with Andrew on this side of the tape, his arms around her, before he picks her up and starts walking. I watch them depart, heading toward the parking lot, two officers shadowing them, and I don’t like the place my mind goes. My brother is a good man, but he’s involved in this mess. Maybe more than I want to believe, and I have to change that before he ends up as fucked as Eddie.

I wait until they disappear around the corner, then start walking toward Kane’s car. Once it’s in view, so is he. I find him leaning on his Roadster, ankles crossed, hands at his sides. Waiting on me, and as Murphy declared, he’s an enemy to everyone but me. I don’t know if that is ultimately true, but I know that Kane would bury a body for me. For a woman covered in blood who just killed a man, that’s damn romantic.

He watches me approach, and he doesn’t come to me or coddle me, thank God. I stop in front of him. “I threw away my badge.”

“When?”

“A few minutes ago. I also

killed for you.”

“What does that mean, Lilah?”

“The Gamer told me he killed you, and there was no coming back for him after that.” It’s a truth I admit to myself only in this moment. “He was going to die after he made that declaration.”

“And you blame me for your actions?”

“No. Not at all. But that badge keeps me sane. You make me insane.”

“Which do you prefer?”