“You. Such a guy. You have to be in control of the remote, almost like it’s a car or a barbecue or something. I guess I’ll give it to you, just this once.”
He laughed, and the sound brought her the comfort of a childhood day when the only worry was which game you were going to play outside or what color Popsicle you’d snack on. Or, at least, that was her idea of a decent childhood day—one when Frank wouldn’t have gone on an Eva-inspired crying jag or a whiskey bender.
“Well, thank you.” He made a show of tucking the remote into the large pocket of his khaki shirt. “I appreciate your prideful sacrifice.”
They both laughed this time, just plain relaxing together. This was nice.
“You into all these star-muckraking programs?” she asked, nodding at the late-night entertainment special.
From the screen, Tamsin Greene and her gorgeous Josephine Baker vibe glowed back at them. She’d been a superstar who’d committed suicide on the Internet last month, and the media hadn’t let up on the coverage since.
Matt reached into his pocket and presented her with the remote, but not before faking her out by pulling it away again. She snatched it before he could reconsider.
“You pick then,” he said, tossing a popcorn kernel at her. “Just don’t make me watch Lifetime.”
At that, both of them cracked up, knowing the Lifetime channel didn’t have a chance in hell with Dawn.
She hesitated in her surfing. “Sorry I can’t hang with the biography. It’s too depressing to hear about that girl’s suicide again.”
Especially tonight. The last thing she needed was reminders of mortality.
Matt stared at the screen, head tilted as he took in an image of Tamsin singing at a concert, dressed in a flowing white dress. “All the big interest in Tamsin Greene’s career, all the TV reports and big-time magazine spreads. Everything’s become a shrine to her, hasn’t it?”
“Purchased with her blood.”
“Sometimes, people get what they ask for.”
Dawn’s eyes went wide at his callous remark. But why was she surprised? This wasn’t Mr. Sensitive she was hanging with—not if he was the hunter she suspected him of being.
But his remark still stung. That homeless woman hadn’t asked to be injured by Dawn’s weapon tonight.
“You don’t feel sorry for Tamsin Greene?” she asked.
“I do, but she was asking for the press to exploit her by the way she went out. I saw her suicide. You could access it just about anywhere on the ’Net.”
“But wasn’t she trying to make a statement about the paparazzi by throwing the ultimate story back in their faces? She wanted to make sure she scooped them by airing the suicide, at least that’s what she said before she did it. Sure, it backfired, but…”
“She had to suspect that the press wouldn’t be able to shut up about it.” Matt didn’t say anything for a moment, merely watched the TV. “Who knows what she was thinking.”
The television played on, but Dawn wasn’t paying a bit of attention.
She cleared her throat, ready to start work. “So why’d you really call me over here? Does it have anything to do with the discussion of Jessica Reese we didn’t have back by the Cat’s Paw?”
“Right. Jessica.” He nodded to himself, staring at the table now.
“I mean, I know you don’t reveal sources”—especially when it came to Frank, the man whom an anonymous client had hired Matt to find—“but I got the feeling you were kinda willing to share.”
“I am. Kinda.” He turned very serious. “I’m going out on a limb here, but…I think Jessica might not have been murdered by a vampire.”
She leaned back at his honesty because she wasn’t used to it. “And what does Jessica have to do with Frank? Why would you even look into her death if it didn’t have anything to do with my dad’s case?”
“I thought, based on the similarities to Klara Monaghan’s murder, there might be a connection.”
“And how do you know Jessica wasn’t killed by a vamp?”
Matt drilled a gaze at her. “Take the information for what it’s worth. Sometimes that’s the only choice we have.”
If she knew for sure whether or not he was a bad guy, the decision would be easier. Of course, she had no idea. She was just willing to take a chance that he was on their side.
“There are some details I find striking about both Klara’s and Jessica’s murders though,” he said, “besides the whole vampire angle.”
This was a start. “Shoot.”
“First, it’s like the murderer wants notoriety, whether it’s the public kind or even a special, secret kind that gets them off in private. I was reading up on other cases, like the Black Dahlia murder. That killer dumped the body in an obvious place, like he was making an announcement. And he left it in a grotesque, sensational state, just like our genius.”
“Our killer wants to be famous?”