Matt presumed that the pretty blonde in the white halter dress had to be Genie Gonzales. She was barely there, her presence little more than a trick of the lights against the dying day. And yet he could see her.
She bent down toward the dog, and he could’ve sworn that Killer felt her and saw her as she stroked the top of his head. Then she looked up at Meg and spoke, her voice merely a whisper on the air.
“Thank you,” she said.
Before Meg could utter a word in response, the apparition faded and was gone.
13
“She made it this far. We’ll see her again,” Meg said, pouring iced tea from a pitcher into glasses. “They always say love is the strongest and greatest emotion in the world. That it transcends time and space. She loved that little dog, and he proved he loved her. She’s stayed because of him—and I’m positive that she’ll gain strength and come back because he’s here. She’ll help us.”
He smiled, catching her hand and kissing it. “Yes, I believe she’ll come back, and yes, she loved Killer. Still loves him. It would’ve been nice if she’d already learned how to stay around long enough to tell us something.”
“We’ll have to be patient with her. What I’m afraid of is that the people like Genie—her ghost, I mean—won’t know what happened to them. Imagine this. The killer sneaks up on them, and before they can see him, he has the chloroform ready and knocks them out.”
“That’s possible, but with four victims, maybe one of them will know something. And tonight, we’ve seen that there’s hope of reaching at least one.”
Matt heard his phone ringing upstairs. He swore softly and set down the frying pan filled with omelets Meg had started and he had finished.
“I’ve got it.” She turned to race up the stairs. She came running back, the phone still ringing. “It’s Kat,” she said, breathless. “According to call display.”
He answered quickly, curious as to why Meg hadn’t just answered it.
“Hey, Kat, what’s up?” he asked. “Hang on. I’ll put you on speaker.”
He did, and they both heard Kat say, “The good news is that no new bodies have been pulled from any rivers. The other news is that the tongue delivered to the Walkers belonged to Cathy Crighton.”
Matt glanced at Meg. He wondered if she’d been afraid to answer the phone, afraid of what they’d find out.
“Will’s here with me,” Kat told them.
“Hey, guys,” Will greeted them.
“Anything on the surveillance videos?” Matt asked.
“Not really. Only the fact that the camera was turned off inside the house, which we knew. But whatever’s going on, we should have control of the situation. Malachi, who’s another agent, and Logan are at the house. They’ll be spelled in the morning.”
Two agents on twelve-hour shifts, neither sleeping.
“Kendra Walker seems pleased, and I’ve confirmed that the surveillance is on now. The Capitol police have a patrol car out in front and the DC police are on watch, as well. It’s about as safe as it can be.”
“I don’t think anything’s going to happen there—not tonight, anyway,” Matt said.
“I agree,” Kat added promptly.
Meg spoke up, a little tentatively. “We—we’ve made a contact. Brief, but...a contact.”
“Yeah? Tell us about it,” Kat encouraged.
Meg described the seconds-long appearance of Genie Gonzales.
“That’s great! Wonderful,” Will said.
“Next time, I guarantee she’ll have more strength,” Kat promised.
“I hope!” Meg said.
“I’ll fill in Adam and Jackson and the rest of the Krewe,” Kat told them. “We’ll say good-night now, okay?”
“Hey!” Matt said. “What about Congressman Hubbard?”
“We rushed everything, but these tests can take a while. I should know something in the morning,” Kat said.
When he’d finished the call, Matt smiled at Meg. “You could’ve just answered it.”
“But it was your phone.”
“When we’re on a case, always answer a phone. Doesn’t matter whose it is. The Krewe is a team in the deepest meaning of the word. You’re part of that team.”
She lowered her head and nodded, and he felt the heat of being with her streak through him again. She could be an absolutely wicked lover, and yet there was still a shyness about her. He recalled the affairs he’d had, some short, some only one night—and a few that had lasted several months, even close to a year. But his work had always come first. And when it came to his work, there was a lot he couldn’t share with many people—certainly not his special talent. His grandfather had once told him that things happened when they were meant to, when the time was right.
Maybe it was true. And maybe that time was now. Because they had the same talent, because they’d been thrown together on this case—because they both needed someone.
Was he enamored with the light in her eyes, her faint flush...or the way she’d stood straight up and defied—politely, mind you—a United States congressman?
“Let’s eat,” he said huskily.