I chew on my bottom lip. This is not good. It’s far from good.
Stalking forward, the victim leans close to me, crowding my space, and shouts, “We’ve got to move. Now! He’s getting away.”
“I—” My protests die in my mouth before I can speak them because he’s right. The killer is getting away, and I’m not going to let that happen. Consequences be damned.
He sees it the moment I give in and grins. “Yes. I totally knew you were the crazy adventure type. I just knew it.”
I’M SERIOUSLY GLAD the spirit didn’t sleep naked.
Standing outside the building, glancing left and right, searching for a trace of the killer, the thought seems insanely ridiculous, because no one can see him but me, but it’s a relief nonetheless. Hunting down a serial killer with a naked man would be... awkward. And probably a little distracting.
“There,” the victim says, pointing to the right. There’s a footpath leading toward the fitness center. Halfway down, about twenty feet away, there’s a bench nestled under a tree, and sitting on that bench is a man in a suit. “That’s him, isn’t it? What the hell is he doing?”
There aren’t many streetlights here, the area mostly lit by the glow from the buildings, but I don’t need a lot of light to see it’s him. The suit gives him away. People around here don’t dress like that. Jeans, tees, hoodies, tight-fitting dresses, those are the norm.
I slip back a step, hiding in the shadows, and very, very quietly, because I don’t want to be noticed, I say, “Holy crap. I was right. He really does call in his own murders. That’s crazy.”
“Nice,” the spirit says under his breath. “Any idea who he is?”
“No,” I say, and furrow my brow. “I was hoping you knew.”
The spirit shakes his head slowly, his face settling into grim, hard lines. “It’s hard to tell from here, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”
“I guess that means you don’t know why he killed you then,” I say, and sigh because this is really beginning to become harder than I’d imagined it would be.
Another head shake. “Nope.”
Right. Of course not. I was kind of hoping that the spirit would know something—anything—to blow this case wide open. Sure, I hadn’t really figured out how to get any information I might obtain to the right people, but that’s a problem I’ll figure out later.
Evidently, the victim isn’t going to be of much help in that area, though.
Silence falls.
We watch the killer.
He talks on the phone for another minute, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. Then, he pulls the phone away from his ear, and flips it shut, stuffing it in his pocket.
And then, he just sits there.
We wait.
And wait.
And wait.
“Why is he just sitting there?” I ask, eventually. “I don’t understand. Does he want to get caught?”
“Maybe,” the spirit says. “Or maybe he wants to see them discover my body.”
This is not a comforting thought.
I want to know the victim’s name, suddenly. I take a second, thinking, making sure asking isn’t against the rules. Nope. Although I’ve never done it before, I’m sure we can ask after they die.
Pulling my eyes from the killer, I glance at the ghost. “What’s your name?”
“Really? You don’t know my name?” He frowns. “That’s almost as messed up as that creepy ass clown mask.”
“Nope,” I say. “Only Death knows that. All I get told is the time, place and date of a murder.”
“You’re not... I figured you were Death.”
“I’m a Grim Reaper,” I point out. “I just release souls and help them get to their next journey.”
“Oh.” He grins, and it’s a cute grin. “That’s kind of awesome. I’m Levi. Levi Tate.”
“Alexa Cross.”
“Well, Alexa Cross,” Levi says, glancing back at the killer. “Looks like he’s on the move. What’s the plan?”
I follow Levi’s gaze. He’s right. The killer is on the move. Black bag in hand. “This was your idea, bud,” I say.
Levi gives me an entirely crazy smile. “Okay, lets move out.”
“Well,” I mutter, “here goes nothing.”
Literally.
Following a serial killer is not a comfortable feeling. I know, catching him was my idea, and it was a good one, but my plan never involved tracking him through Redport before dawn.
He sets a wicked fast pace and is already well ahead by the time we get down to the footpath. He’s so far ahead that I almost miss it when he turns off the trail.
We turn a corner, just in time to see the killer toss something in a street-side trash can.
“What was that?” Levi looks at me sideways. “Is he throwing out evidence? Really?”
“Looks like it,” I say, rushing forward. Levi matches my pace. When we reach the trash can, I look down, shocked when I spot the blood coated blade lying on top. “He threw out the knife.”
“Well, that’s just stupid. He should have dumped it in the lake. No one would ever find it there. I can’t believe this dummy hasn’t been caught yet.”
I don’t respond, but I do smirk, which Levi catches and laughs. “Right,” he says. “This isn’t a TV show.”
The killer turns another corner. We keep following, fast but quietly, and I keep pumping my arms, hoping anyone that spots me thinks I’m just some fitness fanatic out for an early morning speed walk.
He walks for a block, before stopping at another trashcan, this time pulling out the cell phone and tossing it in.
I watch, scanning the area, committing the location to memory. I don’t have much time, though, because he’s moving again, turning another corner.
I hit the corner fast, stumbling over a deep crack in the sidewalk. This area is mostly apartment buildings and convenience stores. The thought of slowing down does cross my mind. I know I shouldn’t be getting so close, but he keeps turning, zigzagging through streets and parking lots, and if I don’t keep up, I’m going to end up losing him.
I’m already kind of lost as it is. We’re not in my neighborhood anymore. The streets are cleaner, there are fewer people to blend in with. If he looks back, I’m almost positive he’ll spot me.
The killer slows his pace, and I quickly duck into a bus shelter. I’m still getting my bearings, which isn’t exactly easy to do when Levi suddenly pops up in front of me and points. I follow his outstretched finger, watching as the killer cuts across the street, heading for a high-rise.
I don’t say anything. Levi doesn’t say anything. We just watch the killer walk to the door, and I know, just know, this is where he lives. He reaches out, grabbing the door handle, but he doesn’t open it. He just stands there, hand on the door, frozen.
And then, he glances over his shoulder and looks right at me.
TEN
OH SHIT. Anxiety kicks in. How much of an idiot am I? I’ve just let this psycho see me. What the hell was I thinking running after him without my cloaking spell?
I duck into the corner of a bus stop shelter, pressing myself against the enclosure. I can’t afford to piss off Death anymore than I already have.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
This is not how tonight was supposed to go.
Everything is going wrong. Everything.
Dammit! Why couldn’t Cameron have just shown up? This would all be over if he had. All of it. Now though... now I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.
“Dude,” Levi breathes, pressing in beside me. “I think he saw me. Shit. What the hell do we do now?”
My eyes swing to Levi, I take in the panic marring his face, and I know I shouldn’t, but I laugh. I can’t stop it. It just bubbles up, spilling out. Maybe it’s shock and stress and my own panic, but I laugh and laugh until tears sting my eyes.
“You’re dead. No one can see you.”
He cocks his head, looking at
me like I’m a crazy person. “You can see me.”
“I’m your Grim Reaper,” I say. “Of course I can see you.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He breathes a sigh, and relief washes over his face. “Damn, I was freaking out there for a second.”
I shake my head and let out another small, amused laugh.
“I’ll go check it out,” he says, shooting me a sheepish grin. “Hang tight. Be right back.”
Levi darts out of our hiding spot, and with him gone, panic sets in. It’s not a big feeling, not all-encompassing as it was just moments ago, but it’s there, slowly eating away at me.
You’re fine. Everything is okay.
On some level, I realize, I’m scared, too. Scared in a way I’ve never been before. Sure, letting the killer see me freaks me out, but it’s not that. Every step I’ve taken in the last twenty-four-hours has made me a part of something—something big. And it feels right. Too right. Maybe that’s what’s freaking me out. I’d always been a rules follower, but right now, at this moment, I’m working on a better version of my life, a life I’ve been struggling with for the past six months.
Levi ducks his head back into the bus shelter. “He’s gone. Spotted him waiting for the elevator.”
He’s smiling, and there is something great about that smile. He looks... light. Light and excited. It’s odd. He was just murdered, but yet, he seems... happy.
I release a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. “Okay. Good. That’s good.”
“So, what’s next?” he asks. “Do we call the police now?”
“He already did,” I say. “They’re probably already at your apartment.”
“Yeah, but we know where he is. They can come and arrest him.”
True, but there’s a problem with that. A big problem. “How exactly am I supposed to explain following around a serial killer without getting myself put on the suspect list?”
Levi’s expression falls, and he drops his eyes to the ground. “I don’t know.”
“Right,” I say. “Me either.”
I hadn’t really thought this far. Honestly, I’d kind of figured it would have been over two minutes after Levi died. I’d never imagined that my night would involve chasing a killer through the streets of Redport, and I had no idea what my next move should be.
I should call Kristin. She’d know exactly what to do. She’d be up by now, too. Probably about to leave for our morning assignment meeting.
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I unlock it and scroll through my contacts. I hesitate when I find her name, my finger hovering over the contact. If I do this, if I call her, it’ll all be over. She’ll help me get Levi to his light, but I know she’ll put a stop to my killer hunt, even if it means dragging me to Death himself.
It shocks the hell out of me to find that I don’t much like that idea. No matter what happens, I want... no... I need to see this through.
So, instead of calling, I tap out a message.
Me: Not going to make coffee. Have to work. I’ll catch up with you later.
She replies almost instantly.
Kristin: What’s going on?
Me: Nothing. Police are on the scene. Got to get the story.
Kristin: Oh. Okay. Text me when you’re free. We need to talk.
I have a pretty good hunch what she wants to talk about, and I don’t bother responding before tucking my phone into my back pocket.
I decide my next step should be returning to the crime scene. The cops should be on their way, if not already there. If I get Cameron the information on the murder weapon, cell phone, and the killer’s apartment building, maybe the investigation will get underway faster and they’ll catch this guy before the next name hits the list. I just have to figure out how to give him the information without screwing myself over.
Should be easy enough... I hope.
THE SKY IS STARTING to lighten, a pinkish hue shining down on everything when we reach Levi’s apartment building. The parking lot is already swarming with police.
I’m sweating. My hair is sticking to the back of my neck. I practically ran the entire way here, and as I slow my pace, taking in the police cars, ambulance, and fire truck, I realize I should have walked. It would have given me a few extra minutes to figure out what exactly I’m going to say to Detective Kelley when I find him.
As it is, I still don’t have a clue.
Levi is right behind me when I walk into the apartment building. The doors are wide open, held by wedges jammed underneath. The lobby is busy with tenants and officers milling about. I scan the room, my eyes sweeping over a huddle of officers by the elevator and Detective Kelley just happens to be among them, talking to what I suspect is the building manager. They’re saying something about cameras, but with the buzzing chatter, I can’t make it all out.
“Detective Kelley,” I call out and wave a hand.
Cameron’s head swivels at the sound of his name, and his eyes lock on me. They move over my face, then over my body, and a frown begins to form, creasing his forehead.
“Alexa?” He steps toward me, concern filling his eyes. “Are you okay? What happened to you?”
I look at him, taking in his worried expression, and a sudden burst of anger—white-hot rage—flares through me at the sight of his concern. I don’t know why. There’s nothing rational about it, but it’s there, searing me from the inside out.
When I don’t respond immediately, Cameron opens his mouth as though to say something, but I snap before he has the chance to say a word.
“Where the hell were you last night?” I demand, stalking toward him. “You were supposed to be here. You were supposed to catch the killer.”
Silence falls.
It’s not just Cameron who doesn’t respond and stares at me, but every person in the room stops and looks. Everyone but Levi.
Levi laughs, a loud, shocked kind of sound, and says, “Dude, you need to chill out. He’s on our team.”
“Go away,” I hiss, shooting a dirty look at him. “This doesn’t concern you.”
Levi shakes his head in disbelief. “Be careful. He’s going to think you’re a crazy person. You shouldn’t be talking to me.”
I nearly choke when I hear what he says. My eyes frantically sweep over the lobby. Crap. How could I be so stupid? Talking to a ghost in front of all these people... I know better than this.
I look at Cameron, whose frown is deepening. My cheeks heat so hot they might as well be on fire, and I clear my throat nervously.
“Alexa?” He hesitates, then takes a step in my direction. “Alexa, honey, are you okay?”
Cameron sounds concerned. He looks it, too. And I’m pretty sure in any other situation seeing that concern on his face would make my heart flutter and my belly clench. But at this moment, I’m angry and nervous and embarrassed, and I have a feeling things are about to get even more messed up, because the anger is winning, blazing, burning away everything else.
“Where were you?” I ask again, my voice taking on a deadly calm tone. I block out every other person, focusing all my attention, all my anger on Cameron, and I point at him. “I gave you a damn tip. You could have caught him. You were supposed to be here.”
Cameron sighs and shakes his head. “Okay, I’ll bite. What the hell are you talking about?”
“I sent you a text message. I told you to be here. I told you to bring your partner. What kind of cop are you? Who ignores a tip?”
Cameron shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He’s lying. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. He got the tip. He read the message. And he did nothing. He looks slightly embarrassed, but it doesn’t last, and I get the impression that he thought it was a hoax.
I jab my finger into his chest. “Yes, you do.”
Another shake of the head. “No, Alexa, I don’t.”
He scowls at me, but his lips twitch as though he wants to smile.
I wonder if he’ll arrest me. I w
onder why that thought doesn’t freak me out.
“You screwed up, bud,” I bite back. “Big time. If you took the tip seriously The Clown Maker would be in custody right now.”
The color drains from his face, and he grabs my upper arm roughly. “Shut up. Just stop talking.”
Crap. I think I’m in deep shit.
ELEVEN
“YOU THINK I’M THE KILLER, don’t you?” I hiss, as Cameron ushers me out of the building. “You think I had something to do with all of this.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, dragging me through the parking lot, away from all the officers, toward an unmarked police car. Levi follows, thankfully keeping his mouth shut. He’s probably right. Carrying on a conversation with a ghost no one else can see will make me look like a crazy person.
I kind of feel like a crazy person.
In hindsight, I probably should have come up with a plan before barging into the building. No point in freaking out about it now, though. If I can just stay calm, I’m sure I can figure out a good lie... maybe.
And really, Cameron couldn’t possibly think I’d have anything to do with this. Could he? No. Impossible. If he thought I’m capable of murder, there’s no way he’d continually ask me out.
When we reach the car, Cameron releases me, turns around and clears his throat. He leans against the car, studying me, his expression, grim. “You tell me, Alexa. Not sure how you could possibly know the when and where before it happened unless...”
His words die off, and I blink. For a moment, with the way he’s watching me, I think Cameron really believes that I’m capable of such a thing. But then I register his torn expression, and I wonder if that’s really the case.
“I—What?” I stall and blink again, my eyes shifting to Levi, before falling back on Cameron. “You really think I could do something like that?”
Cameron rakes a hand through his hair. He looks tired. Really tired. He’s wearing the same clothes from yesterday: blue jeans and a basic black tee, with his shiny badge clipped to his belt, opposite his gun. The tee is wrinkled, but not the deep wrinkles from being tossed on the floor. No, they’re the kind of lines that set in after wearing it too long, and I find myself wondering if he’s even been to bed yet.