“You okay looking at that?” Dylan asked, and she glanced at him, a little puzzled until she realized he was probably thinking of her penchant for fainting at such things.
“Yeah. Photos don’t bother me.” She flicked a dismissive hand and turned away. She focused on the first photo again. “He’s obviously trying to send a message with the positioning of the body and this card. But what?”
Alexandra had tried closing herself off again earlier, and thought it had held this time. She hadn’t yet opened herself up to information from the other side on this case. She’d wanted a moment to refresh her mind from the test he’d given her and look over the current files. But something was scratching at her consciousness, already trying to make itself known. She imagined a wall, the way her grandmother had taught her, and blocked it. Blocked everything. She liked to familiarize herself with the basic facts before she invited anyone else to weigh in on a criminal case. It helped her decipher the information she was given when she understood a little about it first.
“The other body was also positioned,” Dylan said, sliding a different folder across the table. “Killers don’t usually pose bodies, so yeah, I assume he’s trying to tell us something. Since the positioning is so different on all three of these, I have no idea what it could be.”
“When was the first victim found again?”
“Three months ago.”
Hmm. That was when his mother had started making a menace of herself, insisting Dylan was in danger. Oh, but Alexandra would love to talk to her right now.
He spread open a file and tapped a report. “Second victim was end of August. Third victim was yesterday.”
“So one every month? Any significance to the days?”
“What do you mean?”
“Were they found exactly one month apart or what?”
He shrugged. “Give or take a few days.” His eyes narrowed. “You think he’s on some kind of schedule?”
“I don’t know, Dylan. It might not be a bad idea to see what days the full moons were on.”
“Whoa.”
She glanced up at him. “What?”
“I know two of them were killed on the night of a full moon. I didn’t make that connection until now.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and began pacing. “I remember the first one. Reedus made a comment about the full moon bringing out the lunatics. Last night, I noticed the moon looked full.”
Alexandra reached for her phone and did an Internet search to verify the dates of the last three full moons. “Interesting. They were all killed on full moons.”
“Let me see that.” He stepped close and reached for her phone. Alexandra immediately grew aware of his warmth, his scent, his—
Stop it! He is your boss’s brother! No more touching!
Dylan glanced up, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. His eyes danced with excitement. Excitement that quickly took on a new focus when he seemed to realize how close they were standing. He stepped away.
He cleared his throat. “This is good. This means he probably won’t try to kill again until next month, end of October. Gives us time.”
“Halloween.” Alexandra reached for the newest file and skimmed the crime scene photos in it. A man’s body was propped from the waist up against the wall in an alley, his legs sprawled out in front of him on the cobblestone walkway. Spray-painted in black next to his head was one word. Reaper.
“So that’s his moniker,” she decided. “He wants to be known as the Grim Reaper.”
“Seems like it.”
“Okay.” She wiggled her shoulders to shake out the tension creeping in at that disturbing thought. “I’m going to concentrate now and see if I can find anyone who knows something that will help. I’m going to let them in now.”
Dylan straightened from his position leaning against the table. “Let them in?” His voice was skeptical again.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Not literally. I don’t ever allow them to take over my body. Now shut up so I can think for a minute.”
He crossed his arms, but said nothing else. Man, he was sexy when he did that. All brooding and hot.
Focus on the case, not on Mr. Delicious.
Alexandra closed her eyes and thought of the wall she’d erected in her head. She cracked it open and felt an electric jolt course through her veins like liquid fire. The word COPYCAT flashed in her mind along with DEATH over and over again. Several scenes from various, violent slasher films played in her head, and she felt pleasure at seeing them.
This guy must really love horror movies.
She could feel warm breath tease her ear as a woman’s voice whispered, “He’s always been fascinated by death. He’s fascinated by this city. It called to him, and he came. There was another…another he killed, just to see if he could actually do it.”
Her eyes opened, but she saw no one standing at her side. Clearing her throat, she repeated everything for Dylan’s sake.
“Copycat?” He sat down on the edge of the table. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I’m just telling you what I’m getting. I don’t understand it either.”
“Go on.”
She took a deep breath and paced along the length of the conference table. Nothing else was coming to her. The voice was gone, and so were the images. Slowly she completely lifted the wall.
Candice, you can trust me. I want to talk to you about your death. Will you help me catch your killer?
She spun at the end of the table and turned to pace the other way. The feeling of almost colliding with someone standing in front of her caused her to correct herself and step back. She lifted her gaze as her hands instinctively reached out to grab hold of the person she’d bumped into.
Candice Christopher was even more beautiful in death than she’d been in the college honors portrait attached to her file. Her long, red hair was pulled back from her face, and Alexandra recognized the clothes the younger woman wore as the same from the crime scene photos. The same clothes she’d been wearing at the café.
Okay. Here we go.
“What happened to me?” Candice’s voice trembled.
Alexandra wished Dylan weren’t in the room, because she never liked to converse with the dead with skeptics present. But this time, she made an exception.
“I’m so sorry. You’re dead.”
Candice’s eyes lowered to the floor, and she nodded. “Yes. That’s what I thought.”
“Excuse me? I’m what? ” Dylan said, and Alexandra shot him an impatient look along with a forceful “Shhhhh.” Didn’t he realize she wasn’t talking to him? Geez.
“I’m trying to help find the person who did this to you,” Alexandra said more gently to the ghost. “Can you tell me what you remember? Can you show me?”
Candice’s unblinking eyes fixated on Alexandra’s, and she nodded.
A flash of bright light temporarily blinded Alexandra, and she blinked her vision back into focus. The daylight was fading, the glow of orange glistening on the gray-blue ocean water just beyond the railing. Candice laughed over the backdrop of old beach music. A singer whined out the melody of “Good Vibrations” by the Beach