Desperate Measures. Carla CassidyЧитать онлайн книгу.
He gave a curt nod. “Yes, I was alone.” He knew Max’s time of death was sometime between midnight and two in the morning. And that meant he had no real alibi for the time of the murder. He’d been questioned briefly by the police the day after the murder, but he hadn’t heard anything more from the authorities.
“And how did you learn about Max’s murder?”
“I read it in the newspaper like most of the people in Kansas City.”
“Would you like to tell me something about your sister?” Her features radiated a soft sympathy.
Oh, he’d love to talk about his sister...about the loving, wonderfully magical woman she had been. But it would cheapen Suzanna to talk about her to this stranger who was only looking for her next scoop.
“No,” he answered simply. “Why are you here talking to me?”
“When Max Clinton was murdered, and a V was carved in his forehead, I knew he was a fourth victim of this particular killer. The police tried to keep the V out of the new reports from the very beginning, but somebody leaked it to the press.”
He looked at her in surprise. “How do you know that?”
“I have a friend on the police force,” she replied.
“You mean you have a snitch.”
“Friend...snitch...whatever you want to call him, he occasionally gives me a little inside information that keeps me up to date with what’s going on with the crime in Kansas City. I also heard there’s going to be a news conference tomorrow and the police are going to ask the community for their help in catching this person.”
Interesting. Jake would definitely like to know what was going on in the investigation into the Vigilante Killer, and Monica Wright just might make an interesting partner of sorts.
“You still haven’t told me what, specifically, you want from me?” he said.
“Initially I thought you would make a good human interest story for my podcast, but then I got a tip about you and the three other men attending the Northland Survivor Group.”
“Who was your source for that?” he asked.
She smiled and her eyes gleamed with both intelligence and wit. “I don’t give up the name of my sources. So do you know Nick Simon, Troy Anderson and Matt Harrison?”
“I do. You’re right, we all attended meetings there around the same time, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“So it’s just an odd coincidence that the killer has gone after the men who ruined all your lives?” She shook her head and once again her eyes shone with keen intelligence. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe in those kinds of coincidences. The killer seems to have a connection to the survivor group, and that means you might know him.” She leaned forward. “If you know something about the killer, then please tell me.”
“Why should I tell you anything?” he countered. “I don’t even know you. You’re just somebody who showed up unannounced on my doorstep.”
“So why did you invite me?” she countered.
“Because you caught my interest when you mentioned the survivor group and the other men.”
“Have you ever seen my podcast?”
He took another sip of his drink before replying. “I’ve caught it a couple of times.”
“Then you should know I’m good at what I do. I dig into investigations and there’s nobody in this city who wants to identify this killer more than me. I want this... I need this to prove to everyone that I’m here to stay, that what I do with my podcast is a real job.” Her cheeks flushed pink, as if she hadn’t meant to say so much. She leaned back.
He studied her for a long moment. “Then we both want the same thing. I want this killer caught and I intend to bring him down. He’s obviously unhinged and enjoys killing, and I don’t see him stopping anytime soon.”
She frowned, the gesture doing nothing to detract from her attractiveness. “He’s smart and he’s thorough. He hasn’t left a single clue behind for the police to work with. They are frustrated by their lack of leads. Right now he’s killing what most of society would deem bad guys, but that still makes him a murderer.”
“I totally agree.”
She gazed at him for a long moment. “What’s your story? You’re a successful, award-winning architect. What would make you want to suddenly become a killer-hunter?”
He certainly wasn’t ready to trust her with the details of the murder pact six men had made in the woods behind an abandoned baseball field.
To give the information he had to anyone presented a huge risk, not only to himself but also to the four other innocent men in the group. He felt responsible for the birth of the Vigilante Killer and he had to somehow figure out how to point a finger for the police. But first, he had to see which one of the remaining two men was the guilty one. And the only way to do that was to do some investigating of his own.
“Let’s just say I feel a moral obligation to go after him,” he finally replied.
She narrowed her eyes. “So you do know something.”
“I might,” he admitted.
Her eyes lit with an obvious hunger, and he momentarily wondered what it would feel like if her eyes lit up like that when she looked at him as a man and not just as a source for a big story.
“If we both want the same thing then there’s no reason why we couldn’t partner up. I can share with you all the information I have and you could share with me.”
The offer surprised him. He had to admit there was a part of him that had longed to talk about what he knew with somebody. But he’d never dreamed he’d share any of this with anyone, especially not with an ambitious reporter.
“I need some time to think about it,” he finally said.
“How much time?”
“I don’t know...give me twenty-four hours.” He wanted to stop the Vigilante Killer, but he’d certainly never thought about having a partner who may have some resources to help him achieve that goal.
She checked her wristwatch and then stood. “Okay, twenty-four hours it is. I’ve got to get home now to do my podcast.”
He rose as well. “I hope nothing we discussed here is in your podcast tonight,” he said as they walked to his front door.
“Contrary to what you believe about me, I know how to keep secrets. How can I catch up with you tomorrow?”
“How about you have dinner with me at D’Angelo’s. Do you know where it is?” Even as he asked the question he wondered what in the hell he was doing.
“I do. What time is good for you?”
“Shall we say around six?”
She nodded and then smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Tell Wally and Warren I said hi.”
Her smile turned slightly sheepish. “Will do. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that she turned and hurried out to her car.
He watched until she pulled out of his driveway and then he closed and locked his front door. His brain spun wildly as he returned to his recliner and picked up what was left of his drink.
What in the hell was he doing even thinking about sharing what he knew with her? And he’d definitely lost his mind in inviting her out to dinner.
If he was going to work with her in any way, it would be a fine line he’d have to walk to make sure he didn’t incriminate himself or the others. But she was a wild card in this whole mess and he knew she wasn’t going to stop digging. At