Die for Me: A Novel of the Valentine Killer by Cynthia Eden

both already suspected me.”
    Mac’s right eyebrow climbed. Dane knew what the guy was thinking:
I still might.
That move was one of the guy’s tells. After workingtogether for almost ten years, the two had pretty much worked out the whole silent communication aspect of interrogations.
    Katherine rolled her shoulders. “Savannah called me a few weeks ago.”
    Sonofabitch.
    “She was working on a piece about the Valentine Killer. I don’t know how she found me—I was supposed to be safe with my new identity—but she did. She wanted to interview me. Do some write-up about ‘the other side of the killer.’” Her voice hardened. “I told her I wasn’t interested in talking with her or any reporter. And I said she shouldn’t ever call me again.”
    “
Did
she call you again?” Mac asked her.
    Katherine gave a slow nod. “Yes.”
    Shit. “When?” Dane demanded.
    Her gaze held his. “The day before you found her body.”
    Again, all he could think was…
sonofabitch.
    “I didn’t answer her call. I recognized her number on my caller ID, but I didn’t answer.” Her shoulders straightened. “Do you think he had her then? Was he already killing her? If I’d answered, would I have been able to—”
    The peal of a ringing cell phone cut through her words. She jumped. Mac swore.
    And Dane got a real damn bad feeling in his gut.
    Katherine fumbled and reached into the small purse near her feet. “I don’t recognize the number. Sorry.” She started to shove the phone back into her purse.
    Dane took the phone from her and answered it. “This is Detective Dane Black.”
    Silence. The bad feeling twisted in his gut.
    Then he heard a hiss of breath. A woman’s scream.
    Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Who the hell is this?”
    Katherine froze.
    “Kat—” A woman screamed. “
Make him stop!
”
    Then the line went dead.
    Mac hurried to his side. “Dane?”
    But Dane was already moving. “We have to trace that call!” He hit the call-back button, but the line just rang, over and over again.
    He burst out of the interrogation room. Harley and the FBI agent were rushing toward him.
    “Who was on the phone?” the captain demanded.
    His fingers were squeezing the phone too tightly. “I think it was Valentine’s latest victim. A woman was screaming.” His jaw locked as he revealed, “She asked Katherine to make him stop.”
    Ross followed behind the other men. “Savannah Slater was just found yesterday,” he said. “There’s no way—”
    “Valentine waited months between kills,” Wayne cut in. “He wouldn’t attack like this, not so soon…unless something set him off.”
    “We’ve got to get a trace,” Dane said. “Get the techs up here, get a track on the other phone’s signal.”
The woman was screaming…that means she’s still alive.
    But she wouldn’t be for long, unless they hauled ass much faster than this.

    The phone was placed gently on the cement. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? And you did so well.”
    Amy wasn’t talking anymore. Tears had dried on her cheeks. Slices lined her arms. Eleven on the left. Ten on the right.
    There was no hope in Amy’s eyes. There’d been hope before, just a few minutes ago. Until they called Katherine together.
    The tip of the knife slid over her chest. Amy’s eyes were open.
No hope.
    “It’s over now.” The blade sank into Amy’s heart. “At least, it is for you.”
    But not for Kat. Not yet.
    The life faded from Amy’s eyes. Such a beautiful sight.
    The knife was wet with blood. So much blood.
    There wasn’t time to linger or to enjoy this work. A rose was carefully positioned in Amy’s palm. Her fingers were forced closed around it.
    The scene was set.
    It wouldn’t be much longer until the cops arrived.
I have to hurry if I want to get a good seat.
It was guaranteed to be one helluva show.

    “That telephone number traced back to an Amy Evans.” The captain’s voice rang through the station. “She’s thirty-one, brunette, dark