“No.” Captain Devereux sighed. “I don’t want it to, either. Once she signs the non-disclosure agreement, show her what you need to from the files. Take her to the crime scene and see if she can give you anything. I want these cases solved before any reporters piece together the facts. Understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Their desk clerk Kathy knocked on the door and said, “I’ve got that contract ready, sir.”
“Miss King, if you go with Kathy, she’ll explain everything to you.” To Kathy, he said, “Let Detective Collins know as soon as everything is filed. He’ll be waiting at his desk.”
Dylan glanced at Alexandra as she stood to follow the other woman and wondered who she thought she was fooling. Had he talked in his sleep last night, said something about these cases to tip her off? She still looked shell-shocked. He’d never told her his name. Maybe she hadn’t known he was the detective in charge of this case, but maybe she had. Maybe she was a great actress, pretending to be shocked to see him.
His libido wasn’t driving anymore. His cop instincts had taken the wheel.
She could be involved. An accomplice. They could be toying with the police.
Maybe she’d come to Charleston to scam them, or had she seen a chance and jumped at it when she read the paper this morning? He couldn’t remember seeing her at the bar before last night. He’d have to make inquiries at the inn to find out when she’d checked in. Find out why she was in town. She could have been watching him for days.
The captain instructed Dylan to close the door behind her.
“I know you don’t like doing this, but we’ve got three homicides connected by this.” Devereux gestured to the drawing on the notepad. “And we don’t have a single lead yet. It’s only a matter of time before the press calls us out and starts proclaiming we’ve got a serial killer in the city. I don’t need that kind of grief. Understand me?”
Dylan crossed his arms and nodded over his shoulder. “How do you think she knows about the reaper? You really believe she’s psychic?”
“I have no idea, but I’m desperate enough to give her a chance to prove herself. Do me a favor, Collins, and do the same.” The captain reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of pills. “What is Dempsey saying? He confirmed anything yet?”
Dylan shook his head and thought back to his conversation with the coroner. “He said he’d try to have a report to me after lunch, but it depends on when the autopsy is done. Don’t worry. I’ve called, and they know it’s a priority.”
“Head over there and make sure they hurry. Take King with you.”
Dylan clenched his jaw to keep from arguing. “Anything else?”
“Just keep me informed.” The captain gestured toward the door, giving him permission to leave, but adding one last comment. “My friend in Denver isn’t an easy guy to impress, and he was impressed by her. She might surprise us.”
He didn’t tell the captain she already had.
Dylan went back to his desk and did a search on Alexandra King. She came up empty on a criminal records background check. Her driver’s license had recently changed from Colorado to Georgia. No past bankruptcies. Divorced. Interestingly, she had filed for an order of protection against a man named Kevin Alred a few months before she’d moved from Denver to Atlanta, but the details in the system were slim.
The internet gave him hits on several articles from Colorado, citing her involvement in cold cases, and a few more hits on spiritual conventions at which she’d appeared as a guest.
He added private detective to her name in the search field, but no new results came up. Had she lied about being a private investigator? If so, it would be easy enough to determine. PIs were required to be licensed in most states.
He’d just picked up his phone to call and ask Kathy to peek and tell him what agency Alexandra claimed to work for when Kathy’s voice startled him from behind.
“Paperwork is filed. She’s all yours, Collins.”
***
So he’d been checking her out.
Alexandra wasn’t surprised. She’d expected it. Glancing at the computer screen in front of him, she recognized her name in the search field and tried to take note of the results shown before Dylan turned around in his seat.
A sick, worried feeling gripped her stomach and made her feel momentarily nauseous. Had Spider updated the firm’s website to include her name and bio yet? She hoped not. At least, not yet.
She wanted to talk to Dylan before he made the connection between her and his brother, feel him out and see how receptive he was to reconciliation first. If there was as much bad blood between the two men as Zach seemed to think, she sensed that type of connection would not be to her advantage right now.
Of all the men to fall into bed with her first night in town, of course he would turn out to be a cop and Zach’s brother.
Of course he would.
Putting his phone back in its cradle, Dylan turned and sighed, half smiling up at her and bringing to mind all sorts of naughty memories.
Whoa, girl. Keep your mind on the matter at hand, and not on his, er, weapon.
She crossed her arms and arched a brow at him. “So it’s Detective Collins, is it?”
He stood. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. King.”
“Funny. You remind me of this guy I know, only I don’t think he ever mentioned his name.”
He glanced around, seemed satisfied no one was paying them attention, and lowered his voice. “Poor communication seems to be a real problem here. He doesn’t remember you mentioning you were a psychic either.”
She tilted her head and considered him. “Oh, dear. I thought you only referred to yourself in third person to pick up women. This is a real problem for you, isn’t it?”
He did not look amused as he reached for his jacket and brushed past her. “The only real problem I see here is that I don’t have time for this crap.”
She hurried to keep up with him as he pushed out the door and headed for an unmarked car that had seen better days. He turned his head once he reached the vehicle, looked at her, and sighed as he opened the driver’s side door. “Get in. We’re going to check on the coroner’s report.”
She had to brush aside a fast-food wrapper and bag, but she slid into the seat beside him without commenting on his sudden lack of manners.
“Your car?”
“Detectives aren’t allowed to use personal vehicles on duty.” His gaze skimmed over her doubtfully. “Seems an experienced police consultant would know that.”
She couldn’t help it. She had to roll her eyes. Oh, the fun she could have with this man, winding him up. He hadn’t been nearly so uptight last night.
“I’m not an idiot, detective. I was simply wondering if this was your mess or someone else’s.” She picked up a discarded receipt on the seat beside her. “I have to wonder about any man who eats a simple ham omelet sandwich when the enormous omelet sandwich on their menu is so much tastier.” She handed him the receipt, which he promptly crumpled and tossed over his shoulder into the back seat before starting the car. “Oooh. Messy. Another strike against you. Didn’t your mother teach you better than that?”
Speaking of…where the heck was his mother? Rebecca still hadn’t made an appearance, even though every effort Alexandra had made to close herself off had been futile. She’d seen a few ghosts wandering around, but none had tried to make contact with her. Only that pesky guy from the bar last night, and the young woman from the café this morning.
As she buckled