He was right. It wasn’t. It was family, friends, whole neighborhoods. In the last week, she’d seen security- company vans in front of three different houses in her neighborhood. She was trying to figure out how to pay for an alarm system for her own home.
All because of one man’s brutal violence.
“It’s convenient you’re here,” Frank added. “I need to discuss Melissa Bannerman’s murder with you.”
Rose willed herself not to panic. She had nothing to hide-nothing that could affect the investigation, anyway. She lifted her chin. “I’ll help however I can.”
“We interviewed Mark Phagan this morning. He said you and Ms. Bannerman had a recent falling out.”
Rose’s heart flip-flopped. “We had a disagreement and agreed to part company,” she admitted carefully.
“A disagreement.” Frank’s eyes glimmered with a mixture of curiosity, bemusement and doubt.
She sighed. “I suppose Mark told you what it was about.”
“He did.” Frank picked up a scuffed baseball from his desk and rolled it between his hands, the leather making a dry swishing sound against his palms. He remained silent, watching her through narrowed eyes.
She held her silence, as well, refusing to be intimidated. If he wanted to know about the death veils, he could ask her.
“Does Daniel know about your claims?” Frank asked finally.
The question surprised her. “Yes.”
“But he’s a scientist.”
“I didn’t say he believed me,” she responded.
Frank’s lips curved without quite making it to a smile. “I suppose there are other reasons he might want to stick around.”
Rose frowned, not liking his tone, then realized her reaction was exactly what the detective was looking for. She cleared her expression, not willing to give anything more away about her complicated relationship with Daniel.
“I mean, you’re his type.” Frank cocked his head, his gaze moving over her in a slow sweep that was just short of invasive. “Small, pretty, fragile…”
Rose’s only outward reaction was to sit a little straighter, but inside she was growing angry. Fragile? She was a lot of things, but fragile wasn’t one of them.
“You kind of look like her, too.” Frank’s voice softened. His eyes lowered, as if he were lost in memory.
Rose couldn’t stop herself from responding. “Her?”
Frank’s gaze swung back to hers, fierce and intense. “Tina. My sister. Daniel’s fiancee.”
Rose held still, though Daniel’s response when she’d asked him about being in the market for a wedding flashed through her head.
“They didn’t make it to the altar,” Frank added.
Rose bit her tongue to keep from blurting the question the detective obviously wanted her to ask.
“I suppose he’s told you about her, though.”
“What does this have to do with Melissa?”
Frank set the ball on his desk. His gaze narrowed. “Where were you last night after midnight?”
“Home.”
“Alone?”
She pressed her lips together. “Daniel was with me.”
He didn’t look surprised. “He went looking for Melissa last night after she left him a message. Did you go with him?”
“Yes.”
“Even though you and Melissa weren’t on good terms.”
“I was worried about her.”
“Because of the-what did Mr. Phagan say you called it? Death veil?” Frank seemed to take pleasure in her discomfiture, feeding it with his knowing looks and deliberate jabs. Daniel’s friend was good at playing bad cop when he wanted to. No doubt it served him well in interrogations.
But she wouldn’t play that game. “Yes, because of the death veil,” she responded firmly. “I was right to be worried.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Frank’s expression softened. “Did Ms. Bannerman ever mention receiving threats, or maybe noticing someone following her around? Did she change her behavior in any way over the past few days that would make you think she was worried about her personal safety?”
Rose shook her head. “She had a security system put in recently, but I think she saw it as a precaution, not a reaction to any specific threats against her.”
“Do you know what company?”
“Mark can probably tell you more. Oh, wait,” she added, remembering the card that the security technician had given her at the neighborhood meeting. She found the card in her purse and handed it to him. “The installer was Jesse Phillips, with Professional Security Services. Melissa introduced us. She thought I might be interested in a security system of my own.”
Frank looked at the card, his brow creasing. He jotted down the information from the card before handing it back to her. “Did you know Alice Donovan also had a Professional Security Systems alarm system at her apartment?”
“I think Alice referred them to Melissa.” Uneasiness settled in the pit of Rose’s stomach. Had Jesse Phillips installed Alice Donovan’s system, as well?
She could still remember the way he’d looked at her at the neighborhood meeting, his gaze wandering, taking in her breasts and legs. He hadn’t really tried to hide his interest, had he?
Had he been toying with her, even then? He could have found out where she lived easily enough. No big effort from there to leave a cryptic note thanking her for setting up the neighborhood meeting-or giving her his condolences for a death he’d caused.
Was it possible?
She told Frank about meeting Jesse Phillips at the neighborhood meeting. “It could be a coincidence, but-”
“But you received the first note the next day,” Frank finished with a nod. “We’ll look into it.”
Rose glanced toward the doorway, wishing Daniel would come back. She wanted to see if he thought her theory was plausible.
It could be the break in the case they’d been hoping for.
CAPTAIN SHEILA GREEN was a tall, thin woman who was probably in her early fifties but looked at least a decade younger. Her cafe-au-lait skin was wrinkle-free and unblemished, her short black Afro only lightly flecked with gray. She greeted Daniel with a brief smile and waved him into the chair in front of her desk. “Pleased to meet you, Dr. Hartman. I’ve followed your work for years.”
“Thank you. Appreciate your meeting with me.”
She steepled her hands in front of her, looking at him over the top of her half-glasses. “How did you learn of this case?”
“I’ve been tracking murder cases all over the Midwest and southeast that feature certain similarities,” Daniel answered. He outlined the work he’d been doing for the past few years since leaving the FBI for the private sector. “I believe this man has killed over twenty women in the past seven years. Perhaps, more, since I can’t be sure I’ve discovered them all.”
Captain Green’s eyes narrowed slightly. She pushed a button on her phone. “Sharon? Has Agent Brody arrived yet?”
Brody? Daniel’s muscles bunched.
The secretary answered an affirmative.
Captain Green’s smile looked distinctly predatory. “Please send him in.”
A moment later the office door opened and Special Agent Cal Brody of the FBI swaggered in, meeting Daniel’s stony gaze with a grin. “Hello, Doc. Long time, no see.”
Not long enough, Daniel thought. “Thought you retired.”
Brody laughed. “I hear you want in on this case. We’ve already got a profiler from Quantico working on it.”
“Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
