Killer Takes All Read Online Free PDF Page B

simple question. Why’d you leave?”

    “I needed a change.”

    “That the only reason?”

    “I don’t see what that has to do with anything, Detective.”

    He narrowed his eyes. “I just wondered since you seem pretty anxious to do my job.”

    Color flooded her cheeks. “Cassie was my friend. I don’t want her killer to get away.”

    “Neither do I. Back off and let me do my job.”

    He started past her; she caught his arm. “White Rabbit is the best lead you have.”

    “Says you. I’m not convinced.”

    “Cassie had met someone who promised to introduce her to the game. They had planned to meet.”

    “Could be a coincidence. We meet people all the time, Ms. Killian. They come and go in our lives, strangers who cross our paths on a daily basis, making deliveries, speaking to us in the checkout line, offering to pick up something we’ve dropped. But they don’t kill us.”

    “Most of the time they don’t,” she corrected. “Her computer was gone, wasn’t it? Why do you think that is?”

    “Her killer took it as a trophy. Or decided he needed one. Or it’s at the repair shop.”

    “Some games are played online. Maybe White Rabbit is one of them?”

    He shook off her hand. “You’re stretching, Ms. Killian. And you know it.”

    “I was a detective for ten years—”

    “But you’re not now,” he said, cutting her off. “You’re a civilian. Don’t get in my way. Don’t interfere with this investigation. I won’t ask you so nicely next time.”

CHAPTER
6

    Monday, February 28, 2005
11:10 a.m.

    S tacy strode into Café Noir, fuming. Stupid, arrogant, swaggerer. In her experience, bad cops fell into three categories. Top of the list sat the dishonest cop. No explanation necessary. Next came the coaster. Cops who were content to do the minimum for whatever reason. Then came the swaggerers. For this group, the job was all about how it made them look. They endangered their partners by showing off; they jeopardized cases by refusing to see anything but their own glory.

    Or by refusing to follow a hunch that was somebody else’s.

    Sure, that’s all it was. A hunch. Based on a coincidence and a gut feeling.

    Over the years she had learned to trust her hunches. And she wasn’t going to allow some cocky, still-wet-behind-the-ears gun jockey to blow this case. She would not sit back and do nothing while Cassie’s killer went free.

    Stacy drew a deep breath, working to calm herself, shifting her thoughts from the past meeting to the one ahead.

    Billie. She would be crushed.

    Her friend stood at the counter. Six feet tall, blond and beautiful, she turned heads everywhere she went. Stacy had discovered her to be exceptionally smart—and exceptionally funny as well, in a dry, acerbic way.

    Billie looked up, met Stacy’s eyes. She had been crying.

    Stacy closed the distance between them and held out a hand. “I’m devastated, too.”

    Billie clasped her hand tightly. “The police were here. I can’t believe it.”

    “Me, neither.”

    “They asked me about you, Stacy. Why—”

    “I’m the one who found her. And Beth. I called it in.”

    “Oh, Stacy…how horrible.”

    Tears flooded Stacy’s eyes. “Tell me about it.”

    Billie waved her employee over. “Paula, I’ll be in my office. Call me if you need me.”

    The young woman looked from one to the other, eyes watery, face pale. No doubt Malone had questioned her as well. “Go ahead,” she said, voice thick, shaky. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the bar.”

    Billie ushered Stacy through the stockroom to her office. When they reached it, she partially shut the door. “How are you holding up?”

    “Just dandy.” Stacy heard the edge in her voice but knew it would be pointless to try to soften it. She hurt. She itched to take her anger and despair out on someone.

    Cassie had been one of the sweetest people she had ever met. Her death wasn’t only a senseless loss, how she’d died was an affront to