LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

THE CITY USES three arborists. Chris Melnore, out of Hardscape in Bixbie, Steve Elwood, who has his own tree-trimming business in Broken Arrow, and Dr. Raymond Braggs, who is a professor at TU.” Raef read from the list the public-works director had given him. “All three have serviced Midtown. Murphy’s Law is working well, which means the city had a major computer crash last week, so they don’t have a record of which one of the three might have been to Swan Lake in July. They’re gonna check and see if anyone kept any physical notes, but it’s doubtful that they’ll find anything. It was back in July and this is October.”

      “Can’t we just call the three men and ask if he was at Swan Lake that day? We could pretend like we’re calling from the city for, uh, tax records or something like that,” Lauren said.

      “We could, but you see how jumpy the guy is already. He jerks Aubrey outta here if she so much as mentions a damn tree. I don’t want him going rabbit on me.”

      “Then how do we figure out which one he is?” Lauren rubbed a hand over her face and brushed back a strand of long blond hair.

      She looks tired, he thought. Again. I have to remember that this is draining her along with Aubrey.

      “Well, we can’t do much until we get the list of accidental deaths from my office. Then we’ll check out the death scene and see if there is any link to a tree doc, and go from there.”

      “Or we could print off pictures of each of the three guys and when Aubrey manifests next see if she can point us to one of them.”

      “You mean before she screams and gets torn into pieces and part of you gets sucked away with her? No. How ‘bout I try some old-fashioned detective work instead.”

      “Aubrey and I can handle it. We’ve been doing this for months.”

      “How much longer do you think you two have?” he asked bluntly, his voice a lot colder than he meant it to be.

      Her face lost the little color it had had. “I don’t know,” she said listlessly. “I can’t tell because I don’t feel right—don’t feel whole—without Aubrey. So a piece of me is missing whether I’m being drained by a serial killer or not.”

      “All right, then, let’s not push it.” He gentled his voice. “You’re tired.”

      “I’m always tired.”

      “I’ll take you home. You can rest and I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”

      “Do you have to?”

      Raef raised a brow at her. She looked away and he saw some color in her cheeks. Before he could say anything she seemed to collect herself and turned her eyes back to his. Their gazes met and held.

      “I know you have a thing for Aubrey. That’s fine.” Lauren looked away.

      “That’s weird,” he said, wishing she’d meet his gaze again. “She’s dead.”

      “That’s fine,” she repeated as if he hadn’t spoken. “I don’t want to stay because I want to have sex with you or anything like that.” When he just stared at her, she added, “Not that you’re not an attractive man. You are. Really. Obviously my sister thinks so, and she and I have similar tastes in men.” She pushed a thick strand of blond hair from her face, looked up at him. This time her cheeks were bright pink.

      She was beautiful.

      His throat felt dry. He cleared it. When she didn’t continue speaking he prompted, “You and Aubrey liked the same guys?” Then he realized what he’d said and he hastily added, “Not that I’m into twin sex fantasies or anything too weird.”

      “Define too weird.” Her eyes found his again.

      And damned if his cheeks didn’t suddenly feel hot. “Well, after what happened last night between your sister and me, I think my definition of too weird is changing.”

      Lauren’s smile was warm—so warm it made his skin tingle. She gave a little laugh. “Okay, before this gets too crazy, let me start over. Raef, I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me stay here until we find my sister’s killer. I mean, if you don’t mind too much.”

      “That might be days or weeks,” Raef said.

      “It can’t be,” she said, no longer smiling or blushing. “There’s no way Aubrey and I have that long.” She drew a long breath. “The truth is that every time Aubrey gets ripped out of here and takes part of me with her, I’m afraid I may never come back. For some reason you are able to get me back. I don’t think you always will be able to, but for right now being around you makes me feel as safe as I’m able to feel.”

      Ah, shit, no! he thought. What he heard himself say was, “Fine. You can stay. But you get the couch.”

      “That’s perfect. I like to go to sleep watching TV.”

      “That shows a lack in your upbringing,” he said.

      “To say the least.”

      “What, rough time with nannies?” he asked sarcastically.

      “Mother doesn’t believe in nannies. She didn’t have any. Mother also doesn’t believe in children, especially not girl children. Sadly, she had two of them. And our father never paid any attention because we weren’t a son. Here’s a news flash—you don’t have to live in a trailer to be abused as a child.”

      “Hey, sorry. That was out of line of me,” he said, feeling like a douche bag.

      “Don’t worry about it. Almost everyone assumes Aub and I are spoiled rich girls.” She shook her head wearily. “Were, I mean. She’s dead. I have to start remembering that.”

      “All right, that’s enough. Let’s go.” Raef gestured for her to come out from behind his desk.

      “Are you making me leave?”

      He hated the soft, scared tone of her voice. “No, I said you could stay. I may be an ass, but I don’t break my word. What I’m making you do is take a nap.”

      She stopped halfway down the hall. “Seriously?”

      “Naps are healthy. Again, this shows another lack in your upbringing.”

      “I can assure you that’s only the second of many,” she said, following him to the wide leather couch that was already loaded with soft pillows and a faux-fur throw. She plumped a pillow, kicked off her shoes and curled up on her side, pulling the throw up to her neck. “You know, it really does look like a girl lives here.”

      “I didn’t realize pillows, a blanket and a few antiques and art were gender specific.”

      “Your pillows are baby-blue and cream, your throw is faux leopard and your art is Erté. I have two words for you, and they’re hyphenated—girl-like.”

      She was looking at him through big blue eyes that were ringed with shadow, her hair was already rumpled and she was all curled up in a ball that he thought was so little he could almost pick her up and toss her into the other room—but she had an impish smile and a lifted chin that said she’d dare him to try.

      Raef liked her. Really liked her.

      He leaned down, clicked on the universal remote and handed it to her. “Girl-like or not, I also have all the cable channels—in HD.”

      “That’s not girl-like. That’s civilized.”

      He chuckled all the way back to his office.

      RAEF TRIED TO WORK, but it was an exercise in frustration. He searched the internet for everything he could find about the three tree doctors, and then stared at their websites. Nothing stood out and screamed psychic serial killer about any of them. Melnore, a white guy in his mid-thirties, was divorced and had a part-time kid, or at least that’s what his Facebook page said. Elwood, another white guy, didn’t have a Facebook page.

Скачать книгу