The Heart of a Killer Page 8

  He'd cut a little close to the truth, so she decided to change the subject. "Do you think everyone will be here by six?"

  "I know evasive tactics when I see them, Detective. But in answer to your question, yes, they'll be on time."

  "Did you get hold of everyone?"

  "I got hold of Roman and Gabe, and Roman said he'd call Jeff."

  "Okay."

  "So on your day off did you do any detecting on the case?"

  She wasn't about to tell him about her ridiculous trip to the morgue to stare at George's body. "No."

  "You working this case by yourself?"

  "Well, Roman can't since George was indirectly a relative."

  "But no other partner?"

  "No."

  "I thought you cops always worked with partners."

  "Not always. And we're short-staffed, so we work cases alone or with uniforms. Roman and I aren't partnered, though we have bumped into each other on cases now and then."

  "Funny that you both ended up in law enforcement. He's the last person I would have expected to become a cop."

  She took another drink of her beer and wrapped her hands around the bottle, making sure to keep her focus on Dante, on the present, and not on the past. "I would think you would have been more surprised that I ended up in law enforcement."

  His lips curled. "That, too, but Roman was always a little wild and undisciplined. You at least had the familial background for it."

  "People grow up and change. Maybe the incident twelve years ago altered Roman's perspective enough to make him want to pursue law enforcement."

  "I guess it did change some of us. Or maybe it affected all of us in some way, affected the choices we made in our lives after that night."

  Cryptic words.

  She wanted to ask him if that night had changed him at all, and if it had, how. He was catching up on all of them. But his secretiveness was beginning to piss her off.

  The doorbell rang and she rose to answer it.

  Gabe was at the door, with Jeff.

  "I hope someone ordered pizza," Jeff said as he strolled in with his usual abundance of showmanship. "I'm starving."

  Dante had never thought he'd be back here, let alone reunited with the old gang in one place. With Jeff and Gabe showing up, and Roman walking in a few minutes later, it was as if he hadn't been gone.

  They were all older now, but the smiles and laughs were the same. They were different, and yet the same.

  Jeff had come in wearing a suit--a suit, of all things. No way would Dante have predicted that.

  "A suit, Jeff?"

  Jeff waggled his brows. "Gotta maintain my slick image with the ladies, ya know?" He flicked the lapels of his jacket. "They like me suave and sophisticated."

  Anna rolled her eyes and slapped a beer into Jeff's hand. "He's in insurance sales. Hence, the suit."

  Dante laughed. "Is that right? And how are insurance sales?"

  Jeff popped the top off his beer. "People keep drivin' cars, buyin' houses and they keep dyin'. Business is good."

  "And ninety-five percent of his customers are women. Go figure," Roman said, taking the other beer Anna offered.

  "Can I help it if the ladies like me?" Jeff asked, throwing his arm around Roman.

  Dante always thought Jeff and Roman looked the most like brothers. Both about the same height and with light hair, Roman's was more surfer-boy blond, whereas Jeff's was sandy, but Dante and Gabe used to tease them about being the golden boys.

  "So any wives or kids?" Dante asked as he sat on the sofa next to Jeff.

  "Oh, God, no. I'm still playing the field, hoping like hell never to get caught."

  Dante laughed.

  "How about you?" Jeff asked.

  "No. Not married yet."

  "I'm so glad you're back, man. I missed you. It was rough when you and Gabe left."

  "Yeah. I'm sorry. I didn't know he left the same time I did."

  "Where've you been?"

  He was going to have to answer that question soon. Probably sooner rather than later, judging from the way Anna hovered on the edge of their conversation. "Around. Here and there."

  Jeff laughed. "That sounds like you don't want to answer. Like you've been in jail or somethin'."

  "No. Not jail."

  "On the beach in Bali with the perfect woman?"

  Dante laughed. "Uh, no."

  "Hey, man, I can dream, can't I? I always pictured you running some con with a sexy brunette, then taking the money and leaving the country, living out your days in luxury."

  Jeff always had a vivid imagination. It's how he'd survived a hellish childhood filled with abuse.

  "I like the way you think, Jeff, but no. That sounds more like your fantasy."

  Jeff took a long gulp of beer and nodded. "Yeah, that's me. Always on the lookout for the perfect woman."

  "Who's running away from you," Gabe replied, sliding into an unoccupied chair. "Which is why Jeff is still single."

  Dante shook his head. "The more things change..."

  "The more they stay the same," Roman said, taking a spot on the sofa on the other side of Dante.

  "What about you, Roman?" Dante asked.

  He shrugged. "Haven't settled down yet."

  "But rumor has it Tess might be the one," Jeff said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

  "Oh, yeah?" Dante asked. "Who's Tess?"

  Roman's cheeks turned pink. "A woman I've been seeing for a while now."

  Roman had always been shy around girls. Even now, Dante could tell he was uncomfortable talking about Tess. But he wanted to hear more. He wanted to know more about all of them. He'd missed so much.

  "Dante, you're the elusive playboy, just like me," Jeff said. "You and I can hook up and it'll be like old times all over again."

  Dante laughed. "You know, Jeff, I always thought you just used me to get women to buzz around you."

  Jeff leaned forward. "You'd think that, ya know? But for some reason I haven't been all that lonely since you've been gone. Maybe you weren't the babe magnet we all thought you were. Maybe it was me all along."

  Gabe snorted.

  "Hey, I'm not exactly lonely," Jeff said, shooting Gabe a glare.

  "No, but you are full of shit."

  Jeff raised his arms and laid them over the back of the sofa. "See, Dante, this is what you've missed out on. You planning on stayin' now that you're back?"

  His gaze hit Anna just as Jeff asked the question. "Don't know yet. I'll be here for a little while."

  "No, he's not staying," Anna said right over the top of him.

  "Not staying? Come on, Dante, we just got the old gang back," Jeff said.

  But the pizza arrived, so that shut down most of the conversation as they all gathered in the kitchen to fill their plates and refill their beers.

  When they gathered in the living room, Dante figured this was as good a time as any to bring up the murder.

  "So you're probably wondering why you're all here."

  "Because you're back in town, we figured," Jeff said. "And to pay tribute to George, the best father any of us ever had." Jeff raised his beer. "To George."

  They all drank.

  Dante glanced to Anna, who was leaned back on the sofa engrossed in the conversation. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to fill them in on why they were really here. He nudged her foot with his. "Do you want to do this, or should I?"

  She narrowed her gaze at him and actually looked irritated. "Now?"

  "If not now, when?"

  "Fine." She turned her attention to the rest of the guys. "This is actually not a welcome-home-Dante party."

  "It's not? Does this mean I have to chip in for the pizza and beer?" Jeff asked.

  "Cheapskate," Roman said.

  "Hey, I need to save all my money for the ladies. They like to be shown a good time."

  "Which means what, exactly? Bowling? Dollar-movie night?"

  "Fuck you, Gabe. My women are always satisfied."

&nbs
p; "That's not what I've heard," Roman said.

  Gabe snorted. Jeff flipped him off. Dante laughed. This was just like old times.

  "Guys," Anna said, wrangling them in. "Can we get back to why we're here?"

  "Oh. Sure, honey," Jeff said, shooting all the guys a glare. "Why are we here?"

  "We need to talk about George's murder."

  That got their attention. Jeff frowned. "I know. It sucks. Funeral is Thursday."

  "I'm not looking forward to it," Roman said. "Poor Ellen. I went by to see her this morning. She's trying her best to be cheerful, but you can tell she's crushed."

  Jeff nodded. "She's going to be lost without George. The two of them--they went together, ya know? One just doesn't belong without the other."

  Dante could tell Jeff was getting choked up. He stood. "That's right. This murder has ruined Ellen's life. George was everything to her. We have to figure out why it happened. Someone beat him to death in the same alley where Anna was attacked that night. And carved a heart on his chest--same as what happened to Anna."

  Anna moved around in front of the sofa to face them. "Also, after the murder, someone left flowers on my front porch with a note that asked me if I liked the gift they left in the alley."

  "And before any of you ask," Roman said, "we don't have any clues. No evidence left behind at the scene. No fingerprints, nothing."

  "What the fuck. So what does that mean?" Jeff looked at Roman, at Gabe, then at Dante.

  "We don't know," Roman said. "Tony Maclin died in the alley twelve years ago. He's the guy who carved the heart in Anna's chest. We were the only ones in the alley that night."

  "Tony Maclin? That was his name?" Dante asked.

  "You didn't know, did you?" Anna asked.

  Dante shook his head. He'd always just been that guy in the alley, the one who'd hurt Anna. "This is the first time I've ever heard his name."

  Not that it made a difference, he supposed.

  "His name was Tony Maclin. He was a high school senior, about to graduate and go to college. He lived in South County."

  Dante frowned. "He lived in the county? What the hell was he doing in the city that night?"

  Anna shrugged. "Don't know. When I became a cop I looked at his file. It never really shed any light on why he was there."

  That just left more questions in Dante's mind, and dredged up more memories about that night.

  "Back to George though," Anna said, nudging Dante out of the past and into the present, reminding him of what they all had to talk about.

  "Right. It's no coincidence George was killed in the same place, that someone cut a heart in his chest, that he was beaten to death," Dante said, folding his arms and looking at all of them.

  "Dante," Anna warned.

  "What are you saying?" Roman asked.

  The one thing he didn't want to say. The one thing none of them wanted to say out loud. But it had to be said. "The obvious. Someone else was in the alley that night when Anna was attacked, and when we beat Tony Maclin to death, whoever was there saw what we did."

  No one said anything, so he continued.

  "Someone sent us a message."

  Seven

  Anna stood to move next to Dante. "It wasn't a message. It could still be a coincidence."

  Dante's brows lifted. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

  "It's my job to look at all the angles. I can't use tunnel vision on this and tie it into what happened twelve years ago as the only option, when it could be something else entirely." She turned to all of them. "There could still be the drug angle."

  "Wait," Jeff said. "What drug angle?"

  "George was found with coke on him," Gabe said.

  Jeff snorted. "George? Do drugs? He'd slit his own wrists before he'd let drugs anywhere near him."

  "Agreed," Dante said. "But this is still connected to that night twelve years ago. The drugs were planted."

  "You don't know that," Anna said. "The drug angle is a viable option."

  "Anna," Dante said, laying his hand on her shoulder. "Same location, same cause of death? The heart cut into his chest? Come on. It's the same damn thing that happened that night. You can't ignore it."

  "He's right," Gabe said. "Plus, they killed George, and that ties it to us. Someone else was there that night."

  "Dante is right about this," Roman said, grimacing. "Someone saw what we did and is punishing us for it."

  Anna agreed, but the cop in her wanted to deny. "Who would have been there? Why wait twelve years to send a message? And what kind of message is killing George? He had nothing to do with it."

  "No, but he's connected to all of us," Dante said.

  Roman grabbed her hand, forcing her attention on him. "And you know as well as I do that murder only makes sense to the killer. Look at what Tony Maclin tried to do to you that night, Anna. Did that make sense?"

  Tony Maclin. The mention of his name always brought that night, still so clear in her mind, rushing back. The smells, the sounds, her walk to the Dumpster to empty the trash. She hadn't seen anyone that night, not even her attacker. And after she'd been attacked, there'd been panic, and pain, and the guys rushing to jump on Tony Maclin.

  She hadn't known his name until the next day, when his body had been found and the media had reported on it.

  They'd put Maclin's picture on the news. Just a kid, like the rest of them. Clean-cut, looked like a nice guy.

  He hadn't been a nice guy in the alley when he'd grabbed her and dragged her behind the Dumpster and held a knife to her throat.

  And a part of Tony Maclin would always remain with her.

  The scar throbbed, reminding her of him, of what he'd done to her.

  Now the past had caught up with the present.

  Could someone else have been there that night? She racked her brain to recall if she'd seen anyone else around, someone who could have seen what had happened. But her mind wrapped around the events that stuck out in her mind--the attack on her, and the guys beating Tony Maclin.

  If someone else had been there, why hadn't they stopped what happened to her? Why hadn't they stopped the guys from killing Tony?

  She could still see them pummeling him, hear their fists connecting with his flesh.

  She tried to muster up sympathy for the way they'd pounded on him, the blood flying from his face, the way he looked when they'd finished with him, but all she'd felt was satisfaction that he hadn't gotten away, that he'd felt some of the misery he'd inflicted on her.

  She'd waited years to feel guilty about him dying in the alley that night, and she never had.

  Justice had been served that night. It might have been vigilante justice, and it might have been cruel, but she lived with the scars of that night, and she knew she'd never have survived the attack if Dante, Gabe and the others hadn't been there for her. Instinctively, she knew Tony Maclin would not have let her live. He hadn't just been out to rape her. He intended to kill her. Maybe it was the drugs he was hopped up on that had left him without coherent thought, but she knew she wasn't going to come out of that alley alive.

  No, she felt no guilt over him dying instead of her.

  She owed the guys everything. Including keeping her mind open about the attack on George and the connection to twelve years ago. She had to protect her guys.

  "So somebody knows. Now what do we do?" Jeff paced back and forth, downed the last of his beer and crushed the can. He raked his fingers through his hair. "This is fucked up. I need a cigarette."

  He pushed open the slider and stepped through into the backyard. Anna watched his hands shake as he lit a cigarette, the smoke billowing out through his mouth and nostrils.

  "I'll go see if I can calm him down," Roman said.

  Gabe leaned back against the sofa. "What do you think, Anna?"

  "I don't know. If I were being honest I'd say I'd like to live in complete denial about the whole thing."

  "Can't say I blame you for that," Gabe said. "You don't want to relive it
or have it come back again."

  She didn't, but it wasn't going to be avoidable. "Do you guys remember seeing anyone in the alley that night?"

  Dante shook his head. "No, but we were all focused on what had happened to you. Once we saw Maclin and grabbed him, that was it."

  "Dante's right," Gabe said, throwing an arm over the top of the sofa. "There was tunnel vision. We only saw him, and then there was you."

  "I do remember sweeping the alley," Dante said, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from the sofa. "We wanted to make sure Maclin didn't bring anyone with him."

  Gabe leaned forward. "You're right. I remember that, too. After we left you, before we got out of there. We panicked, wanted to make sure no one saw what we'd done."

  "And?" Anna asked.

  "There was no one," Dante said. "We checked one end of the alley to the other. There wasn't a sign of anyone."

  "But that doesn't mean someone hadn't been there before," Gabe said. "Someone could have been there watching the whole time."

  Dante nodded. "And then taken off when we brought Anna inside the shop."

  "Shit," Gabe said.

  "But why wait? If someone saw you guys beat up Maclin, why not report it right then?" Anna asked.

  "Scared?" Gabe offered. "Maybe whoever was in the alley with Maclin was high, too, not even sure of what he was seeing. Plus, no way would he call the cops."

  "Okay, that makes sense. Self-preservation and all that. But what did that have to do with killing George? What's the connection?" Dante asked.

  Anna blew out a breath. "That's my job to figure out."

  Jeff and Roman came back in.

  "In the meantime, all of you need to be on guard and be careful," Anna said. "We don't yet know what the connection is between George's murder and what happened twelve years ago."

  "And whoever did this has some connection to you, Anna," Jeff said. "You don't worry about us. You gotta watch your own back."

  She smiled and nodded. "I always do, Jeff."

  They chatted for a while, the guys catching up with Dante, who, Anna noted, still wasn't all that forthcoming about where he'd been for the past twelve years, giving them excuses about traveling and doing manual labor here and there and how much he'd enjoyed seeing the world.

  He looked so at ease as he bullshitted with the guys, not at all tense about all this like Jeff was. Roman was used to threats, because like her, it was the nature of their jobs. Gabe was laid-back because he lived his life with the criminal element. He was always looking over his shoulder.