“If the phone wasn’t a burner, whose was it? If it belonged to the copycat, you’d have him in custody by now.”
Jake patted his nose with his napkin. “It belongs to Rachel Blackburn, a young community college student who works in a clothing and jewelry shop on Melrose. She lost the phone yesterday—or it was stolen from her.”
“Hence the security cam footage for review. You’re going to try to spot the moment someone picked up her phone.”
“Exactly. She lost it somewhere on Melrose. She had it when she went into work, and didn’t have it when she left work. She’d been to a few businesses along Melrose. We’ve pulled the video from those places.”
“That’s a huge lead.”
“It gets better.” Jake swirled his soda and took a sip, keeping her in suspense. “The shop also does piercings, and guess who got her nose pierced there a few weeks ago?”
Her own drink almost bubbled through her nose as she choked. “Kelsey?”
“That’s right.”
“One of the victims had her nose pierced at a shop on Melrose a few weeks before her murder, and the killer takes a phone from someone who works at the shop to call in another of his victims. He must live in, work in or frequent that area.”
“Yeah, too bad it’s so congested, but it’s a start.”
“It’s a great start. You got lucky with that girl, Rachel Blackburn.”
“She’s a bright kid, interested in law enforcement. I told her to give me a call about a job with Dispatch. I know the sergeant and can put a word in for her.”
Kyra dropped her spoon and stared at Jake, openmouthed.
He jerked his head up and a bean sprout stuck to his chin. “What?”
“First of all—” Kyra tapped her own chin “—you have food on your face. Secondly, I didn’t realize you were such a helpful person.”
“Thanks.” He swiped the bean sprout from his chin with a napkin. “I hate it when you have food on your face or in your teeth and nobody tells you. They just sit back and watch you make a fool of yourself.”
She buried her chin in her palm. “That’s nice of you to help out Rachel.”
“Nice?” The color spiked in his cheeks, although that might be the jalapeño. “Nice had nothing to do with it. We need good people.”
Jake didn’t want to ruin his rep as a tough guy. She tilted her bowl to spoon up the rest of her pho. “Hopefully, that CCTV footage will reveal the phone thief...and the killer.”
“I was thinking you might talk to Rachel. She’s freaked out about being close to the copycat and the fact that he used her phone.” He jabbed his spoon in her direction. “You do that sort of thing, too, right?”
“That sort of thing? Yes, I do. I’d be happy to talk to Rachel.”
“All right then.” He checked his cell phone, which had been on the table throughout lunch and buzzing periodically with text messages. “I’m going to get more soda for the road.” He tapped his phone. “Just got a text from Billy that the video is queued up and ready for our viewing pleasure.”
As she watched him walk to the soda machine, his gait sure and fluid like an athlete’s, she felt a twist of disappointment in her belly. She would’ve liked to have learned a little more about Jake’s personal life, his background. He was a Southern California boy, but where did he grow up? What had brought him to police work?
She wanted to learn those things about him, but he was too skilled a detective to allow the flow of information to go one way. And she had no intention of giving him the details of her background.
The secrecy made it hard to date, even harder to date someone in law enforcement. Of course, she was getting ahead of herself here. Nobody claimed, least of all Jake McAllister, that he was interested in dating her. She considered herself lucky he still didn’t have daggers in his eyes when he looked at her.
He placed his cup on the edge of the table. “Do you want me to get you more soda before we leave?”
“Sure.” She handed him her cup, and the tips of their fingers met on the damp surface.
Jake snatched the cup away and stalked toward the machine without even asking her what she was drinking.
She called after his back. “Diet, please.”
He held up the cup and as he refilled her drink, she slipped her purse from the back of the chair and swung it to hitch over her shoulder.
As she did, it hit the chair, and some of the contents spilled out, including the plastic baggie with the card.
“Sorry.” He began to crouch to collect her items.
“That’s okay. I’ve got it.” But she didn’t have it. Jake had it.
He rose from his crouch, straightening to his full, intimidating height, the bag dangling from his fingertips, the flesh around his mouth white.
Through barely moving lips, he asked, “What the hell is this?”
CHAPTER TEN
Kyra’s blue eyes met his, cool and unflinching chips of ice. “It’s a card.”
Anger whipped through his body, his veins sizzling with it. He exhaled a long breath through his mouth, which beat banging on the table with his fist. “Thanks, I know what it is. You know damned well I’m asking you where it came from and why it was fingerprinted.”
“It’s a long story, and you need to get back to the station.” She tugged on the bag in his hand. “Do I still get a ride back?”
He should just leave her here. She had her phone. She could call up a car.
“I’ll give you a ride.” But if she thought she was going to retain possession of this card, she’d better think again.
He yanked the baggie from her fingers and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he grabbed his soda, with such a firm grip he almost popped off the lid, and pivoted on his heel.
He could hear the click of her heels
