As Klara’s image hovered over the room, The Voice paused, as if he wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. But he knew Dawn too well to pursue it, so he continued.
“The new victim’s wounds are similar to Klara’s, but with a few differences. Where Lee Tomlinson left DNA residue from saliva, this time the killer used bleach to wash it away. It isn’t an ill-planned crime based on impulse. This one is methodical. So far, there are no helpful fingerprints at the victim’s apartment, although there are some cloth fibers that might be useful. Teeth imprints could be salvaged, as well.”
“The scene has been processed already?” Dawn asked.
“It’s still occurring.”
The Voice didn’t need to confirm that he’d been talking to a paid source who was at the crime’s location. He had connections everywhere.
Kiko shook his head. “So it’s too late for us to do a bust-in on the scene, huh?”
Dawn didn’t even tell him that he couldn’t do bust-ins period. Reminding him of his injuries was overkill, especially since he was worried about other things, like losing his acting agent due to the injury, too. Not auditioning was killing Kiko; she knew that because, during long chats while sitting next to his hospital bed, she’d realized he was a closet overachiever. A GATE student and an honor-roll stud, he’d planned on a law career as a backup to acting, believe it or not.
The TV went dark again. “The authorities have set a tight perimeter around the scene, but let’s see if Breisi can get one of those secret, late-night coroner appointments so we can view the body. Breisi?”
“I’m on it just as soon as you tell us more, Boss.”
The Voice laughed, a sound that scraped through the center of Dawn, stripping her from the inside out. Her tummy seized up, moved by the sparked friction between her legs. She crossed them to dull the hunger he always inflicted.
Dawn…
She knew that she was the only one who could hear him, feel him, saying her name.
Pushing the craving away, she ignored his silent supplication and asked, “Are we assuming this is the work of a copycat murderer?”
“It could be.” Kiko stood, blue eyes glinting with the thrill of the chase. “Lee Tomlinson’s DNA tells us that he’s Klara’s murderer, but he’s locked up awaiting trial. He’s been contained ever since the law caught up with him.”
After Klara’s murder, Lee had disappeared. The team had researched him, then tried to track him down for further questioning about the Underground, but to no avail. By then, he’d been found holed up in the very same county, stoned out of his gourd.
“Unless,” Dawn said, “Lee wasn’t the killer in the first place. Maybe someone planted evidence to frame him?”
“Or maybe a rogue vampire took up on Jessica where Lee left off on Klara,” Kiko added.
“We need to lay this out.” Breisi paged through the notes on her clipboard.
When The Voice spoke, it was easy to picture him with a finger in the air, now that she sort of knew what he looked like. “Before we start, we need perspective. Remember, our objective is to use this murder to discover an Underground.”
“How could I forget,” Dawn said. “The good of the many outweighs the good of the few. And if we just happen to solve a crime while we’re at it, champagne for us.”
“Dawn—” The Voice began, his tone reflecting a weariness she’d encouraged with her eternal arguments.
“I know, I know. We’re here to save the world, and that’s all the explanation the team requires.”
She’d been told the vague, noble justifications for The Voice’s secrecy ad nauseam. Limpet and Associates didn’t exist to find Frank or supply Dawn with the answers she’d been thirsting for. No wonder The Voice generally hired people like Kiko and Breisi: salts of the earth with overdeveloped senses of justice, people who fought for good merely on faith alone.
“Spock. You just quoted Mr. Spock,” Kiko said, facing Dawn in his enthusiasm. “Cool.”
Then he continued, turning toward the TV as if it contained The Voice, which…it couldn’t. Right?
God, who knew anymore?
“So, technically, we don’t have a client this time? No Marla Pennybakers to deal with?”
“Correct.” The Voice’s pause seemed to stretch into a smile in the dark. “Just the Underground.”
He said the last word with a mixture of reverence and vengefulness. She wished she knew why.
Damn it, if she didn’t need to find Frank, she’d be out of here. But The Voice had her by the fine hairs and he knew it.
“All right.” Breisi stood and walked beneath the TV. “Are we ready to piece some puzzles together? Maybe something we already know will connect our vampires with this murder.”
“Ready,” Dawn said.
“Ready.” Kiko gave a little hop.