Love Me Dead Read online

  “Or it could be someone who’s followed my career and me. Maybe even someone in law enforcement.” I stand up and face Kane, folding my arms and the robe in front of me. “But what if it’s not about me? What if it’s about Roger? I’m his protégé. They used him to get to me. Maybe this is ultimately about him.”

  “Why would you go to Roger on this?” he asks. “What don’t I know?”

  I tell him everything about the call, the cigarettes disappearing, the way Beth was called to the case just as I was. “Damn it! I didn’t even find out who called her. I need to know how Beth got there.” I grab my phone from the nightstand.

  He catches my wrist, standing up and walking me to him. “I missed watching you work.”

  In that moment, I’m a million pieces of a puzzle that Kane has the power to complete or tear apart. I don’t know how to respond besides honestly. “If I let you, Kane, too easily, you will own me and my life again.”

  “If anyone owns someone, Lilah, it’s you owning me.”

  “No. You will always have secrets. You will always have a world outside of my world.”

  “Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you. Didn’t I prove that by telling you how I intend to handle the Society?”

  “I missed you, Kane. I missed you more than I never wanted to miss you, but—”

  “Don’t tell me to walk away, Lilah. I told you. I won’t do that again.”

  “The agency wants to take you down, Kane. They believe that you’re your father. My job—”

  “Murphy knows who I am to you, and he still put you on this task force. Did you ever consider that one of the reasons is me?”

  I blink. “What?”

  “He knows he can push your limits, and you can push the Society because I’ll keep you alive.”

  My defenses flare. “I keep me alive, Kane. I do.”

  “We do. We, Lilah.”

  My cellphone rings in my hand, and I glance down at it, but so does Kane, and Lord help me, it’s Rich with his shitty timing. Rich, who was just here, trying to get me back and to take down Kane. Kane’s jaw clenches. “Get rid of him, or I swear to God, Lilah, I will.”

  “Because you’re not your father, right?”

  You don’t bait Kane Mendez, and he proves that now. He drags me to him, that lethal quality about him that calls to me far too easily, burning through me. “Get rid of him, Lilah.” He releases me and walks out of the bedroom.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  And the man wonders why I keep pulling my gun on him. I want to grab it and shoot him right now all over again.

  My cellphone rings again, and I curse, glancing at the caller ID, and of course, it’s Rich. Again. He’s supposed to be in fucking Paris, off the grid. What the hell is going on? The man doesn’t learn. He just can’t take a hint. I told him to back off, and Murphy promised me that he’d leash Rich. Murphy knew I was protecting Rich from Kane. And Kane’s right. Murphy does know who and what he is, and all my suspicions about the many ways that Murphy is more than he seems come back to me.

  Rich calls back, and I decline the call. I need to talk to Murphy before I talk to Rich. Right now, I move to the other point my game planning session with Kane brought to light about how Beth got to the scene last night. I dial Beth. “How did you get the call to the scene last night?”

  “My supervisor. She just said I was requested by name.”

  “By who?”

  “She didn’t say.” I can almost see her brow furrow in worry. “Where are you going with this?”

  “Find out and call me. And text me your supervisor’s name and the exact time of the call.”

  “Lilah,” she presses. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m fact finding right now,” I say. “Get me the information. I’ll see you soon.” I disconnect, and call Murphy who doesn’t answer. I call Tic Tac. He doesn’t answer. My phone is now ringing; it won’t stop fucking ringing, and it won’t stop ringing with Rich on the other end. I hit decline and walk to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and contemplate a trip to the Hamptons to grab some more of my things. I’m not going to LA for what I left behind there. I’m done there. I’m here now, and I won’t be leaving again. The Society will not get rid of me. I let them run me away once before. Never again.

  I step into the shower, and damn it, I flash back to that night again, standing under the water, blood pouring off of me, pooling at my feet, and washing into the drain. I have a flash of Kane grabbing my attacker, of me grabbing his knife. I pant out a breath, and suddenly, Kane is there, pulling me close, and I don’t even remember him entering the shower.

  “They made me a killer,” I say. “They have to live with what that means.” I shove him against the wall. “And you don’t save me. I save me. I don’t need your fucking protection, Kane. I don’t need you to do my dirty work for me.”

  He catches me at my neck and turns me into the corner. “Except that I do. The middle, Lilah. We hold onto each other and stay in the middle.” He kisses me, and I swear what happens between us in the next few minutes is about how badly I don’t want to be in the middle. It’s about how badly I want to be just like him. It’s about how badly I want to hurt the people who had me raped and killed my mother.

  When we’re finally out of the shower and I’m dressed in jeans and a T-shirt as well as sneakers, Kane has disappeared somewhere in my apartment while I dry my hair. I glance at my phone to find several text messages. The first from Tic Tac: See your inbox. Notice that I didn’t call for fear you’re asleep. I’m setting an example for you on this.

  The next is Beth giving me her supervisor’s name and she went one step further. She called her and asked who requested her at the crime scene. The answer: Roger. Of course. I send the info to Tic Tac and ask him the find out who called Beth’s supervisor last night. The answer is fast. He already knows. The same number that called Murphy called Beth’s supervisor. Umbrella Man was responsible for getting me and Beth to the crime scene. It was assumed but now confirmed.

  I start my blow dryer, and turn it off with yet another text.

  This one is from Rich: Damn it, Lilah. You could have picked up. I’m in Europe, and I have to go silent, undercover. You won’t hear from me for a while, but I know you made this happen. I know he made this happen, but this isn’t over. I’m coming back. I’m coming for you.

  Kane returns and sets a cup of Starbucks coffee next to me on the bathroom sink. He also sets the note I’d received from Junior with my pizza last night next to it. Junior being the crazy person who’s been leaving me warning notes since I returned to New York; he’s nicknamed for the Stephen King-like mystery and drama that doesn’t quite reach King’s superior delivery.

  I grab the note and read it once again:

  M is for Miss me? I missed you.

  D is for Disappointed. He’s not for you. This city is not for you.

  S is for sorry. You are going to be so so so so so so so sorry.

  W is for warning. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

  I set it back down. The “he” is Kane. Junior has made that abundantly clear in the past.

  “Obviously Junior isn’t going to go away without some encouragement,” Kane comments, looking less than pleased, which is about so much more than my safety. Junior’s previous notes seem to indicate knowledge of a certain buried body.

  “Seems that way,” I say. “And like so many people, Junior really hates you. It came with my pizza last night.”

  “Right before you got called to the crime scene?” he asks, ignoring my snarky remark.

  I turn to him. “Yes. Right before I got called to the crime scene.” I grab the note, look at it and then him. “You think it’s related?” I don’t give him time to answer. “It could be related.” I glance at him. “If Junior’s the Umbrella Man, Kane, you’re in danger.”

  His lips quirk. “We can only hope this asshole comes for me.”

  “You are not inv
incible because you’re Kane fucking Mendez. You know that, right? You bleed just like everyone else.”

  “Worried about me, Lilah?”

  “Yes. I’m worried about you. There? Are you fucking happy? I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to die unless I kill you. That’s not a secret.” His lips curve into a smile, and I growl under my breath. “You’re not listening to me.”

  My phone buzzes with a text from Beth: Where are you?

  “I’ll give you a ride,” Kane says, “and before you resist,” he picks up the note and shows it to me, “are you going to do what Junior says and stay away from me? Because that reads like fear to me and fear makes you look like you’re weak. It makes you look like prey.”

  I snatch the letter from him. “You’re a manipulative bastard, Kane Mendez.” I set the note on the counter and grab my Starbucks coffee, that cup proof of his manipulative skills. “Let’s go.” I start to pass him and stop. “Rich is in Paris, where he’s going dark. He won’t be around for you to kill, and at the rate you’re going, someone, me most likely, will kill you before he gets the chance to try.” Now I walk past him and his low, accented laugh follows.

  God, how I both love and hate this man in the very same moment.

  We head downstairs and I pull on my rain jacket. Kane steps behind me and helps me settle it around me. I grab my badge that I left in the pocket and turn to face him, holding it in my hand. We stare at each other for several beats. “Put it on, Lilah,” he urges.

  I put it on.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It’s all about the blood.

  That’s what this case is going to come down to. And that’s also why I don’t comment on Kane’s brand spanking new silver 911 Porsche. I don’t give a shit what he drives. The truth I won’t admit to anyone, even Kane himself, is that I don’t really give a shit who he kills or doesn’t kill. It’s an easy perspective to have while on the way to the morgue; though, there’s a reason why I took a nap there last night. Dead people don’t bother me. It’s the living who get on my last fucking nerve.

  Thanks to weather, the traffic is more hellish than usual, and I have time to look through the data Tic Tac sent me, including basics on this new man in Beth’s life. There’s nothing he’s given me that helps me, so I try to call Murphy again. “The bastard and his ‘communication is golden’ lectures hold no water,” I complain when I get his voicemail again. “He’s a damn hypocrite. He won’t return my calls.”

  “Murphy doesn’t think you communicate well?” Kane asks. “I can’t imagine why.”

  I glance over at him. “I communicate just fine, and fuck you, Kane.”

  “Exactly my point. You get right to the point.”

  I shoot him the finger and take matters into my own hands. I dial the one person I know will push the limits. My cousin answers on the first ring. “Lilah, my love.”

  “Whatever, Lucas. I need to know everything you can tell me about a certain FBI agent. The kind of stuff I’m not supposed to be able to find out.”

  “What are you going to give me if I do?” he asks, flirting as always.

  “What do you want Lucas?” I ask and glance at Kane.

  “You,” Kane says. “He wants you.”

  “Oh fuck,” Lucas growls. “You couldn’t warn me you were with Kane? I’ll do the damn search. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up, and I laugh. “You cut right past all his bullshit. I take my ‘fuck you’ back momentarily. He’s doing it now.”

  “I’ll bet he is.”

  “He’s my cousin, Kane.”

  “Your father was his father’s stepbrother. He’s not your damn cousin, Lilah.”

  “Okay, well, putting aside all your dirty thoughts—”

  “His dirty thoughts.”

  “Fuck, Kane. Listen to me.” I inhale and breathe out. “His father was with my mother when she died. Lucas and I both thought they were having an affair, but Murphy has painted a different picture that involves him. Murphy was in love with her. This entire task force and his hate for the Society are about my mother to him.”

  “Is it?” he asks, pulling in front of the morgue.

  I unhook my belt and turn to face him. “What do you know?”

  “There’s a window of time where Murphy didn’t exist.”

  “What the hell does that even mean? He didn’t exist?”

  “I mean he didn’t exist, Lilah. Director Murphy isn’t who he says he is.”

  “He works for the agency. Of course, he’s who he says he is.”

  “Or someone with the skills Lucas possesses made him who he is.”

  “In other words, Murphy changed his identity. Holy fuck.” I shake my head. “Holy fuck. Who the hell is he?”

  “I’ll let you know once I find out.”

  “Should I have Lucas—”

  “No. Don’t leave a trail that leads back to you. Let me handle this.”

  I frown, my mind starting to profile Murphy. Who is he? What is he? That’s the thing about Kane; he might be a killer, but he’s the killer I know. There’s a lot to be said about knowing someone in all their bloody fucked up true colors. There’s also something to be said about being with someone who knows all your own bloody fucked up true colors, and still feeling safe.

  “You going to kiss me goodbye?”

  “Not a chance in hell,” I say, but even as I do, I lean over the seat and into Kane. He catches my head and kisses the hell out of me.

  “What just happened Lilah?”

  “You just fucking happened, and you keep fucking happening. Asshole.” And with that, I get out of the car.

  The minute I’m outside in the open, I know I’m being watched by some little prick who is either Junior or Umbrella Man or one in the same. I bet this asshole does have a little prick, and he’s trying to feel big and important by stalking and hurting women. I want him to come at me. I’ll yank his balls right out of his damn pants. I walk in the door of the morgue, eager to get facts and then hole up and start putting all this together. The sooner I get to yank town, the better.

  A big Hispanic woman in a security uniform gives me a grimace, which may or may not be because I left a lasting impression. Still on the topic of balls, I asked the kid who was screaming because he thought I was dead last night if he had any to which he proceeded to cry. I asked for an ambulance. I sincerely thought he was having a breakdown. The kid, who is actually twenty-three, needs a new career. He was also the guard in questions sister. I didn’t know. It’s not like I have to try to be an insensitive bitch, I get that, but in this case, I really wasn’t being an insensitive bitch.

  I make my way to the exam room where Beth and an intern I met last night are already working; both are bundled up in so much plastic that I’m concerned there might be a plague. “Should I be wearing something a bit more formal?” I ask when I enter the room with just my plain clothes on.

  Beth pulls down her mask. “I’m cautious with toxins, and you’re fine as long as you don’t touch anything.”

  “Like myself or someone else?”

  “Oh Jesus, Lilah,” Beth says as her intern laughs. I don’t know her name, but since she gets my humor when no one else does, I might have to learn it. “The blood from the crime scene,” Beth says.

  She has my full attention now. “What about it?”

  “It was pig’s blood.”

  In other words, we only have two of the three victims the killer claimed when he talked to Murphy. I’m going to assume that number three is either Beth or me.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Most people know that I’m not the most sensitive person in the world, but Beth isn’t me. She’s emotional. She feels shit. I don’t know how she stands over dead bodies every day and deals with that kind of baggage, but it’s also not my business. I walk to the edge of the exam table. “Let’s talk about the toxin that has you all bundled up like it’s winter outside.”

  “You aren’t going to s
ay anything about the pig’s blood?”

  “Don’t kill a pig and not make bacon,” I say. “The animal gave its life to make that bacon and that’s not one of my jokes. An animal’s life matters, too, and this time, we don’t have to wonder if it’s a gateway drug to murder. We already know what he’ll do. So, I repeat, what kind of toxin are we dealing with?”

  She just stares at me.

  “Beth?” I push.

  “We don’t know,” the intern says. “It’s none of the known toxins we look for.”

  “Did we check the pig’s blood for toxins?”

  “The pig’s blood?” Beth asks.

  “Yeah. If Umbrella Man had the toxin handy, why not use it on the pig? I mean unless he really did make bacon, but somehow I doubt that.”

  Beth blinks and then looks at her intern. “Please go ensure that happens.”

  The intern nods and heads out a side door. Beth motions toward her office. Great. Here we go. Damn it, she’s trying to make me a coddler. Kane wouldn’t have this problem. She enters her office, and I follow, shutting the door. “I’m being sent to Paris to consult on a case.”

  Relief washes over me. “That’s an experience to embrace.”

  “Lilah, I know this case. I want this jerk caught.”

  “I’ll catch him.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “Yes, Beth. You are. Because if you don’t, Kane will have you kidnapped and put in a dark room until this is over.”

  She pales, and I hate that I just used Kane, but damn it, I need her to listen, and while I’m not someone who leans on Kane, I also prefer to keep people alive. Well, unless I want them dead, but that’s another whole part of me for another time and another person.

  “Don’t do this to me,” she says. “Those women were poisoned. I can’t figure out how. This is a medical puzzle. I need to solve it the way you need to solve cases, and I would, even if I wasn’t convinced I’m a target. I mean, Lilah, we may need special equipment.”