“I couldn’t let Trent hurt you. I can’t let anyone hurt you.”
Then she felt the press of his lips against her neck.
Katherine shuddered.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”
Fists pounded against the gallery’s front door.
He laughed again. “I locked the door behind you. So we could have a chance to talk. It’s been far too long, Kat.”
“Not long enough.” It was her turn to whisper. Then, because the cops were close enough to hear, she screamed, “It’s Valentine! He’s here!”
The pounding at the door doubled. “Ms. Cole!” She heard the frantic shout from one of the cops.
Shouts weren’t going to help her. Bullets would.
She took a deep breath and knew that this was her chance. Katherine lunged away from him, then spun and fired—
Only the gun just clicked. Again and again.
No bullets came out.
And Valentine had disappeared into the dark shadows of the gallery. His laughter reached out to her. “Oh, Kat, did you think I didn’t know about your weapon? I’ve been watching you.”
She backed away and headed toward Trent. She reached down, trying to find a pulse.
But his skin was ice cold. And sticky.
Nausea rolled in her stomach.
The cops were still outside.
“I’m always watching,” he told her, and he was still whispering. Just a whisper that made goose bumps rise on her arms. This felt like the nightmare she’d had dozens of times. “Remember that, and stay the fuck away from that detective.”
A gunshot blasted.
Katherine screamed. Another blast thundered through the gallery. The cops were trying to shoot their way inside.
They needed to hurry.
Dane slammed on the brakes and jumped from his car. Katherine’s gallery was ten feet away. Two plainclothes cops were in front, and they’d just fired at her window. Even as he leapt from his car, the shattering of the glass filled his ears.
“Fuck me,” Mac muttered.
Dane ran toward the cops. “Circle around!” He looked back at Mac. “Make sure no one gets out the back entrance!” His heart was racing and his palms were sweating as he kept a death grip on his gun.
Katherine hadn’t answered her phone. The cops had radioed and said they’ d heard a scream from inside.
Be alive. He’d planned to use Katherine as bait to lure in Valentine, but he’d never planned for her to get hurt.
He flew through the window, crashing through the glass and heavy curtains—and almost landed on top of Trent Lancaster’s body. The guy was slumped in a chair, and blood covered him.
There was a crash from the back of the gallery. He hauled ass into the back room, with the two plainclothes cops right behind him. He went in low and fast and came up with his weapon raised. “New Orleans PD! Freeze!”
And he was staring down the barrel of a gun.
He had his weapon pointed at Katherine. She had her gun pointed right at him.
“Katherine!”
Her eyes looked huge. So stark and afraid.
“Lower your gun,” he ordered her.
“Valentine was here,” she whispered. Slowly, the barrel of her gun angled toward the floor.
Yeah, he’d figured that when he saw the dead body. “Did you see him?”
She glanced over her shoulder. The back door was open.
Mac stood there, frowning. “No one came out this way.”
“He did,” Katherine whispered. “When the cops started firing, he ran out the back.”
Dane motioned to the cops. They immediately ran out to search the area. He wanted to search, too. Wanted to rush out and hunt down the bastard.
But he didn’t want to leave her alone.
“He was waiting for me to find Trent.”
Every muscle in Dane’s body vibrated with tension.
Katherine’s chin jerked up. “Go,” she said. “I’m fine. Just get him.”
That was all Dane needed to hear. He was already running through the back door.
Katherine’s knees sagged, and she hit the floor. He’d been there. He’d been there. And he’d killed again.
Sirens were blaring in the distance. Help was coming. Only the help was too late for Trent. She’d been too late.
Again.
She rose to her feet and forced herself to take one step. Then another. And another. The curtains had been shoved back, and light spilled in through her smashed window. In that too-bright light, she saw Trent’s body. So much blood. His chest had been carved open.
There were roses beside him. A vase—one of the vases that she kept at the gallery but never used because she hadn’t been able to force herself to actually buy flowers—had been shattered near Trent’s feet. Fresh roses, the same color as blood, were strewn over the floor.
I’m always watching.
Her nightmare was never going to end.
She started walking again. She fumbled with the locks on the front door. Why hadn’t she heard him set the locks? Then she was out in that bright sunlight. The gun was in her hand, the stupid, useless gun that should have ended Valentine’s life.
He’d gotten away. She’d been frozen with fear and he’d slipped away.
Get away from the death.
She put one foot in front of the other. Walked.
One foot.
In front of the other.
Do you love me, Kat? The voice from her past whispered through her mind.
She could hear the echo of her own laughter. Of course I do. I’m marrying you, right?
She’d been so confident. So certain.
One foot.
In front of the other.
You love all of me, right?
He’d been teasing her, or so she’d thought.
The good and the bad? You’ll stay with me, for better or worse?
She’d kissed him. That’s what I get to promise in the vows.
One foot.
In front of—
“Katherine?”
Her chin snapped up. It was Joe’s voice. She was in front of Joe’s Café. Joe and Ben were both there, both rushing toward her, then freezing when they saw her gun. They shouldn’t be scared. There were no bullets in her gun. Valentine had taken them away.
Like he’d taken everything away from her.
“Katherine, what’s happened?” Joe demanded.
I’m in shock. She realized it because she’d been this way before. She could hear the scream of police sirens getting closer now. Because she’d walked two blocks toward them? She didn’t remember walking that far.
Ben reached for her arm. She flinched and her confession slipped out: “I don’t like to be touched.” Except by Dane. She didn’t mind his touch.
He nodded and his hand opened. “Give me the gun,” he said.
Her fingers tightened around the handle of her weapon. “He’s…he’s coming to hurt me.”
Ben stared into her eyes. Behind the lenses of his glasses, his brown gaze was deep. Worried. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Easy to say. He didn’t know her. Neither did Joe. And Joe was coming up on her left. Looking just as worried as Ben.
“Katherine!” The roar of her name didn’t make her flinch. She heard the thunder of footsteps rushing toward her.
Then she realized Ben and Joe weren’t the only ones there. A small crowd had formed. Fearful folks gazed at her and her weapon.
A hard hand closed around her shoulder. “It’s all right!” Dane’s thundering voice carried easily. “I’m a police officer. The situation is under control.”
He was lying. Nothing was under control.
Katherine turned into Dane’s arms. He took the gun. Led her away.
And even though Joe called her name, she didn’t look back. She was too afraid of the horror that she’d see on his face.
Katherine sat at Dane’s desk, her shoulders hunched forward, with a cup of coffe
e—the bad shit that most of the cops avoided—cradled in her hands. She hadn’t spoken much, or actually at all, since he’d brought her in to the station.
Dane and Mac had searched her gallery. The PD had hunted for blocks, roping off the area, but there had been no sign of Valentine. The guy’s face—an image provided by the Boston PD—was being flashed on every TV in New Orleans. But the man had vanished.
“Did you actually see Valentine?” The quiet question came from Marcus. The profiler had shuffled up beside Dane.
Katherine didn’t stir at the man’s question. She hadn’t stirred at anything.
Dane inclined his head to the nearby uniform. “Keep an eye on her,” he ordered.
The sandy-haired man immediately stepped toward her.
Dane hauled the profiler into the nearest empty interrogation room. “What the hell are you implying?” Dane demanded as soon as the door shut behind them. “No, dammit, I didn’t see Valentine. The bastard was there, he dumped the body, he terrorized her, then he got the hell out before the cops could get to him.” Valentine was good at getting away. Too good.
Marcus swallowed quickly. “I just meant we only have Katherine’s word—”
“She’s in shock. Did you see her? Did you actually look at the woman? She’s barely holding it together.” Because she’d been alone with her worst nightmare. Trapped. And that knowledge pissed him off. He should have been with her. He’d said he would protect her.
“If the guy had wanted,” Dane muttered, the fury he felt directed at Valentine and at himself, “he could have killed her right then.”
Marcus shook his head. “That’s not what he wants.” Now his voice was far more confident. “That’s never been what he wanted.”
“Then tell me. Make me understand. Just what is it that the prick wants?”
“Katherine.”
He’d had her, been alone with her in that dark gallery. But from what Dane could tell, the woman didn’t have so much as a scratch on her.
“I should have realized he’d go after Dr. Lancaster,” Marcus continued.
Was that guilt in the man’s voice? Dane studied Marcus and saw that, yes, it was.
“One of the reasons I thought Katherine was originally a participant in the killings was…well, it was because she was tied to one of the victims in Boston.”
“Tied how?” He’d gone over Hobbs’s report and hadn’t seen a connection.
“Katherine and Stephanie Gilbert, the final victim in Boston, were both foster children at the same home years ago.”
Katherine had walked in on Stephanie Gilbert when Valentine was killing the woman. No, after the kill.
“From what I could gather, she and Katherine stayed in the same home for two months. Just two, but during that time, Katherine went to the hospital twice. Once for a broken arm, and once because she’d been stabbed in the right thigh with a kitchen knife.” His lips tightened. “Stephanie was relocated after that, sent for additional therapy.”
Dane lifted his hand. “What are you telling me? That you think Katherine wanted Valentine to target Stephanie because the woman had hurt her when they were kids?”
“That was one possible theory.”
“It’s possible bullshit.”
Marcus flinched but held his stare. “Do you know what a killer’s signature is?”
“It’s the way he kills,” Dane said instantly. “The slashes on the arms, the carving of the chest. All of that shit is Valentine’s twisted signature.”
“A killer’s signature doesn’t change over time. The signature is what the killer has to do in order for the kill to give him a feeling of completion. Satisfaction.”
Twisted fuck.
“With Valentine, part of his signature is that he’s controlling his victims. He’s tying them up, torturing them, dominating them. He’s punishing those who wind up on his table, the same way he was punished by his own mother. That’s why he re-creates the same wounds on their arms.” He paused. “Three years ago, I thought Katherine might have been involved in the Gilbert murder—”
“Didn’t we decide that was BS?”
The profiler’s cheeks flushed. “I’ve been working the Valentine case for three years. Three years. I now believe that with the murder of Stephanie Gilbert, his motivation changed.”
Dane’s brows snapped up.
“Gilbert’s attack wounds were more savage than those of the other victims, showing a more emotional response. I think Valentine was angry with her because he knew what she’d done to Katherine. As far as Valentine was concerned, Katherine didn’t deserve any punishment.”
“What did she deserve?”
“Protection.”
That wasn’t the answer Dane had expected.
“Trent was here yesterday shouting at Katherine. Threatening her.”
“But Valentine wasn’t here. He wouldn’t have known—”
“Control, Detective. Remember…control. Valentine will always want control over Katherine, so I suspect that he has been watching her, and those around her, very closely for some time.” Marcus’s breath shuddered out. “With Lancaster, Valentine crossed a lot of lines that he hasn’t crossed before. He broke his own rules.”
“He took the body to her.”
A slight nod. “He wanted to give her a present. Lancaster upset Katherine, Valentine perceived that the shrink had hurt her, so he—”
“Hurt the bastard back.”
Another nod. “Katherine changed Valentine. Perhaps more than I realized. Until Trent, his victims—those we know of—have been female. This evolution is showing that he feels he has no boundaries. He can and will attack anyone he perceives to be a threat to Katherine.”
“Hell.” Dane jerked a hand through his hair. “Savannah wanted to do a story on Katherine—”
“And Katherine refused, but the reporter kept pushing her.” Marcus’s lips tightened. “Another threat to Katherine that had to be eliminated.”
So how the hell had Amy Evans been a threat to her?
Marcus must’ve had the same thought. “If you dig, I think you’ll find a connection to Amy.”
A light rap sounded at the door. Then the captain came in. His face was tense as he stared at Dane. “The sonofabitch was in her gallery?”
“Yes.”
“With fucking cops right outside? Why the hell weren’t the uniforms able to stop him?”
“Because the uniforms didn’t see him. Katherine went in alone, and when she realized the lights weren’t working, she sent one of the cops to check her breaker box.” The cops should have damn well been in that building with her. They’d made a mistake that no one would be repeating. “He was waiting for her.”
“He had to get close,” Marcus said. “He had to let her know he was there, taking care of her.”
The captain’s eyes narrowed. “I want to know every single thing that man said to her. I want to know every detail.”
Dane knew they had to question Katherine. She just looked so damn fragile that he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything would be all right.
Even if the words were a lie.
“Bring her in,” the captain ordered.
“I will,” Dane said, “but I want the two of you out.” They could watch. They could listen. But he wanted to be alone in that room with Katherine.
He had to make her relax, feel safe, and that wouldn’t happen if the profiler and the captain were breathing down their necks.
Harley gave a grim nod. “Do what you have to do.”
Dane knew the order for exactly what it was. But before he left the room, he had one more question for the profiler. “Why the fucking roses? What’s their message?”
Marcus rubbed his chin. “Originally, the roses could have been a sign of remorse. He’d taken their lives, so he gave his victims a token to remember him. But when he met Katherine…” Marcus shook his head. “Roses used to be her favorite flower, did you know that? She revealed that fact in he
r Boston interrogations. She even kept a small rose garden behind the house she shared with Valentine. When Valentine found out about her love for roses, the guy must have seen that as another sign that Katherine was perfect for him.”
Sick fuck. She wasn’t perfect for him and never would be.
With his jaw locked, he headed out of the room and went straight to Katherine.
Her shoulders were still hunched, and she looked so beaten. He hated that. He tried to control his rage as he reached out and touched her shoulder.
She flinched and jumped to her feet. “No!”
All eyes flew to her.
Her breath came fast and hard. Her eyes seemed desperate. Then she focused on Dane and gave a little shudder. “I-I’m sorry.”
He wanted her in his arms. Screw it, he pulled her against him. Held her tight and didn’t care who saw them. She needed him. She needed to know that someone was there for her.
And he’d damn well be that someone.
“I wanted to kill him,” she said, her stark whisper barely reaching his ears.
He wasn’t surprised by her confession. Full truth, he wanted to kill the bastard too. The badge was the only thing holding him in check.
“But he took the bullets from my gun. He figured out where I kept it hidden, and he took my bullets.”
The profiler’s words whispered through his mind once more. I suspect that he has been watching her. He had been.
Katherine stiffened in his arms. She shoved against him, catching Dane off guard, and he stumbled back.
“Stay away from me!” she told him as dark color flushed her cheeks. “You have to stay away from me!”
“Katherine?”
“If you don’t, he’ll hurt you, too.” Her whole body was stiff. Her eyes stark. “He told me. You have to stay away.”
The bastard thought he’d be afraid? Dane grabbed her hands. “That’s not happening. No one will keep me away from you.”
He heard a gasp, then looked to the side. Evelyn Knight had just been led into the bull pen. Her tear-filled gaze was on him. Katherine. Their linked hands.
Mac hurried forward and tried to steer Evelyn away, but she wasn’t moving. She just stared at Katherine.