“Nah…nah. I mean, he and Gena had broken up, because she’d been caught hooking up with that jerk Beau, but it wasn’t a thing.” His brow furrowed. “I don’t…I don’t think it was a thing. Thatch was pissed at Beau, and I think Beau felt the same way, especially when Gena started calling Thatch again but…” He rolled back his shoulders. “That’s just stupid drama. Not the kind of thing a guy would get killed for.”
You’d be surprised why people get killed. But a college romance gone wrong? That hardly connected with the slashed remains she’d found. Still… “Does Beau have a last name?”
“Yeah. Beau Phillips. Doesn’t live on campus. Think he has some place in the Quarter.”
She’d find him. Jane offered Quint her card. “If you think of anything else about Alan Thatcher that you feel I should know, call me.”
He stared down at her card, his expression fierce. “You a good detective?”
Her brows climbed. “I like to think so.”
He grunted. “You’ll…catch the guy?”
“That’s the plan.”
His stare rose, lingering on her face. “You look young.”
“Not as young as you.” And appearances can be deceiving. “I know how to do my job. Don’t worry.”
“Sorry, I just…he was a good guy, you know?” Quint shoved the card into his pocket as he turned away. “Good guys should have good lives.” He shuffled out of the room, his shoulders hunching forward, his feet dragging.
***
Hell’s Gate was different during the day. No big throngs of people waiting to get inside. No mass of bodies jumping on the dance floor.
It was quiet. Peaceful. Almost tomb-like.
Aidan smiled a bit as he lounged at the bar. The door to Hell’s Gate had just been thrown open with a bit too much force—Jane’s usual entrance style at his place. Did Jane realize she always strolled in as if she owned the place?
I can make that happen. He’d be happy to share everything he owned with her. Always.
His fingers tapped on the bar as he watched her. Beautiful Jane. Her long, dark hair slid over her shoulders and her eyes—dark like her hair but framed with gold flecks—locked on him with obvious purpose.
“You left before I woke up,” he said. Though that wasn’t really true. He’d been awake, but he’d also been aware that she was trying to slip away without talking to him. Had the vampire’s words gotten to her?
He’d already talked to Paris and learned all about Jane’s little side trip to see Annette.
Another problem he’d need to face, soon enough.
“I need to see your security footage from last night.”
“Well, hello, to you, too, sweetheart,” Aidan murmured. “You look lovely, and yes, my day has been just grand.” He reached for his whiskey glass and took a quick swallow. “Thanks for asking.”
“Aidan…it’s not even noon.”
He waited.
“And you’re drinking now?”
I’ve got plenty of reason to drink. Trust me. Her impending death? Fuck, yes, that was putting him on edge. Because despite what Annette had said, he would find a way to change Jane’s fate. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t.
“Is everything…okay?” She asked as she crept closer. Concern softened her face. “Did something happen?”
I found out that you’re supposed to die soon. That you’ll become a vampire. Then I’ll have to make a choice.
Would he make the same mistake his father had made?
“What could possibly be wrong?” He forced a mocking smile. “Don’t mind the booze, sweetheart. You know it doesn’t influence me the way it does mortals.”
“What’s happened?”
“Oh, you know…the usual. Got a city to run and a paranormal killer to stop.” He shrugged. He’d drained the whiskey. “And I got a fun little phone call a bit ago.”
Her shoulders stiffened. A very small move, but Aidan watched her carefully and he waited. Would she tell him about her meeting with Annette? So they could face the shit that was coming together?
“Who called?” She slid a step closer. Her face had gone blank, deliberately so, he knew.
A crack appeared in the glass he was holding. She’s not telling me. Jane is still holding back. “Dr. Bob,” he tossed out the name because that was true enough. One of his phone calls had come from the ME. “He’s on my payroll, after all. So he wanted to make sure I got all the results of his autopsy on last night’s victim.” Aidan gave a low laugh. “I’m pretty sure the guy wants to put a new roof on his beach house in Gulf Shores, so I figure he’s looking for some bonus pay.”
“And he’s still working with the idea that a werewolf committed the crime?”
“It would certainly appear that way. All of the evidence supports a supernatural killer, only not of the vamp variety.” Werewolf. He pushed away from the bar because she’d stopped moving toward him. The scent of apples and lavender filled the air. So did the sweet scent of woman.
Jane.
“But we both know,” Aidan murmured as his hand rose and the back of his knuckles trailed over her silken cheek. “That appearances can be deceiving.”
It was so easy to get lost in Jane’s eyes.
Will it be as easy when she becomes a vampire?
“Aidan…your fangs are showing,” Jane said this simply, no fear in her words or on her face.