Right. Only she wasn’t moving.
Dane put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her toward him. “We got him, Katherine. We got the bastard.”
“He looks so different,” she whispered. “But before he got into that patrol car, his voice—his voice was Michael’s.”
Dane gave a grim nod. “We’ll check his prints, compare his DNA, but the bastard confessed upstairs. He is Valentine.”
“Then it’s over,” Marcus said. “His crimes end—”
But he broke off, seeing as Katherine did the hard jerk of his head that Dane had just given.
“We need to find Maggie Dunning,” Dane said.
“Isn’t she at the hospital?” Katherine asked slowly. “With her father?”
“I hope to hell she is by now.” But Dane didn’t look hopeful. “Because it sounded like the guy was taunting us upstairs.” His gaze burned into Katherine’s. “He wanted us to think he still had one more victim out there…”
“Maggie.” Margaret Dunning.
Marcus rocked forward on the balls of his feet. “He’s still playing with us.”
Dane’s expression was hard, unreadable, but fear had thickened inside Katherine because yes, she was very afraid that Valentine was still playing and that the deaths weren’t over.
Not yet.
– 19 –
They had the sonofabitch.
Valentine sat, hands cuffed behind him, two uniformed guards just a few feet away, in a chair in interrogation room number one. Dane and Mac were in the observation room, surrounded by half a dozen other detectives. The DA, Henry Meadows, was there, pacing nervously. He was sweating, and the cool-under-fire DA wasn’t normally the type to sweat.
“No one can locate Margaret Dunning,” Meadows said, jaw locking. His light blue eyes were a stark contrast to his dark brown skin. “There was no conference out of town. No seminar. She hasn’t been at work in three days, and her apartment is empty.”
Dane glanced through the observation mirror. Valentine had a faint smile curving his lips. “He knows where she is.”
“Is she dead, Detective?” Meadows asked flatly.
Probably. But he couldn’t bring himself to say what they all feared. Margaret—Maggie. She’d always been a sweet girl. Kind to everyone she met. Far too trusting for a cop’s daughter.
Meadows exhaled. “We need to know. Because I don’t want to bargain with that sick prick over a dead woman’s body.”
“Even when it’s the captain’s daughter?” Mac snapped at him.
Meadows glanced through the glass. “People in this city are gonna want the death penalty for him. I know ass**les just like him. Seen plenty like him over the years. Plenty of twisted freaks. He’ll try to trade the woman’s body for his own life. If I make that deal…”
“The captain’s daughter,” Mac repeated, sounding as if rage were choking him.
“If she’s alive, I’ll do anything to get her back,” Meadows said instantly. “But let’s make absolutely sure that Valentine has her. That the girl didn’t just get pissed and run out of town or—”
“She’s the daughter of a cop.” Dane kept his gaze on Valentine. The guy looked far too smug. “She knows better than to vanish without telling someone where she’s going.” He lifted his hand. Tapped the glass. “He knows where she is. He planned for this, wanted a way out in case we caught him.”
“There is no way out.” Meadows was adamant.
“No.” Dane shook his head. “Not for him.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to push away his tension. He had to go in there and get the bastard to confess…to all of his crimes. He wanted an airtight case against Valentine. Wanted to nail this bastard to the wall. “Let’s do this, Mac.” He turned toward the door.
And found his path blocked by Meadows. The guy’s lips were tight and his voice hard as he said, “You did a great job bringing him in, Detective Black, but from now on, you’re staying away from him.” He motioned to two detectives on the left. “Forrest, Smith, get me a confession.”
“What the f**k?” Mac demanded.
“I’m thinking about trial,” Meadows snapped right back. “You…” He pointed at Dane. “You’re sleeping with the killer’s ex.”
“Watch it.” Dane’s back teeth ground together.
“And you…” Meadows glanced at Mac. “The killer threatened your lover. Neither one of you two are what I’d call unbiased. If I’m getting a needle shoved in that guy’s arm, then I need a confession that won’t be tossed. One his lawyer won’t get shredded by the judge.” He exhaled and shrugged. “Sorry, men, but you’re out.”
“This is bullshit,” Mac spat out as he stabbed a finger into the DA’s chest. “We worked this case. Risked our lives for it, and you’re shutting us out now?”
There was regret in his eyes, but Meadows simply said, “Yes.”
“No way, no—” Mac began.
Dane put his hand on his partner’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”
Mac spun on him. “How can you be so cool?”
He wasn’t. He was burning on the inside. “He’s cuffed. We got him, Mac. We got the bastard.” And if they needed to step back so the deal would be sealed and a needle shoved into the guy…I can do that.
Because it wasn’t about grabbing a headline or being the detective who was up on the stand making the big testimony before all the cameras. To him, this was about Katherine. Giving her life back to her.
About stopping Valentine. Making sure that bastard never hurt anyone else.
Katherine was safe. Ronnie was safe.
And I hope to hell that Maggie is, too.
“We did our job,” Dane said again.
Mac gave a grudging nod.
“The perp has already flatly refused to talk to the profiler, so Marcus Wayne is back studying the last crime scene, getting us more evidence to nail this guy’s coffin shut,” Meadows said. “This is a high-fucking-profile case. It’s gonna be on every news channel in the United States. I don’t want anything screwing it up.”
Dane looked over his shoulder. Forrest and Smith had just entered interrogation room one.
Valentine frowned at them, then shook his head. “Do I look like I want amateur hour?” he demanded.