Dylan's Witch: 10 (Supernatural Bonds) by Jory Strong Page A

Deana. If you do then we can make sure your nephew gets taken care of, not just dumped in some facility and forgotten.” He’d damn well make sure of it. “You don’t want that on your conscience too, do you? He’s innocent in all this. Just like the guy you killed with your car.”
    Tears dripped onto her crossed arms but she didn’t look up. It was possible she didn’t know who wanted Nicole Harper dead, but an admission would give them leverage to apply to Elaine. She’d know that of course. Along with her brother and sister, they’d all been in and out of the justice system enough times to understand the angles.
    “Help us now, so we can help David,” Dylan said. “How much were you paid to kill Nicole Harper?”
    No response.
    The rocking continued.
    Trace kept working her hard, Dylan slipping in, trying to coax a change.
    Time crawled past and frustration built.
    She stayed locked down, unresponsive.
    Dylan’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. From the way Trace straightened, his had too.
    They wrapped up. Where wrapping up meant the waste of breath encouraging Deana to come clean.
    Outside the room, Hale said, “You guys might be on to something. Keep me in the loop.”
    “Sure thing,” Dylan said. “You do the same.”
    He pulled his phone out at the same time Trace did, the move so perfectly synchronized it looked as though they’d rehearsed it.
    Hale snorted. “You guys have worked together too long. You’re starting to look like the Bobbsey Twins.”
    “I’m the handsome one,” Dylan said, reading the text instructing him to call the captain. He glanced at Trace. “You want me to do the honors?”
    “Go for it.”
    “You know about Brady and Storm’s call-out?” Captain Ellis asked.
    “Yes.”
    “The fresh DB is Robert Katcher.”
    “Shit. Trace and I saw him last night when we were leaving. Said he was working late so everything would be good while he was on vacation.”
    “Well he took a permanent one, and not willingly. I need you and Trace to divert to his place while Storm and Brady stay on scene in the swamp. They’re lead on his murder. Coordinate with them when they get free of the swamp. I’ve got Miguel at the station since he’s riding solo right now until Conner is reinstated. He’s going over Katcher’s workspace.”
    “We’re on it.”
    “I’ll save you a step and text the address.” He ended the call.
    “Shit,” Dylan said. “Katcher is dead.” Not that he knew him well, but there was a weirdness, a haunting feeling caused by having encountered Katcher the night before and now knowing he’d been heading out to die.
    * * * * *
     
    Seraphine took a sip of mocha. There was no safe ground when it came to opening a conversation with Electra, so she went where they might have a common one. “Chesna told me a friend of yours is trying to get you to meet men.” Of which there had been none, other than good friends, in her sister’s life since she came back from Europe pregnant. “A couple of friends of mine are trying to set me up with a homicide detective.”
    The unacknowledged tension between them eased. “Have you met him?”
    “Yes.”
    And just like that they were a step away from quicksand. She took the step.
    “He and his partner came for a consultation. They wanted me to interpret some sigils.”
    Electra’s hand tightened on her coffee cup but she didn’t comment. Good sign? Bad sign?
    “His partner is married to the owner of a shop I frequent. I was there this morning when they staged a drive-by of the romantic kind.” She couldn’t bring herself to confide what had happened outside the bar.
    “Awkward?”
    “Probably not as bad as that time Tamsin sprang the blind date on you. Remember it?”
    Electra laughed, and with the sound of it Seraphine was torn between joy and pain, between what it had once been like between them and their relationship now.
    “God, do I! Talk about mortifying.”
    “You were so shy back then.”
    “Reserved