He laughed. That laughter chilled her.
“Why did you kill the councilman?” Ivy asked. She wanted him to keep talking and to confess anything—everything—he could while Bennett was listening. Then, going by instinct, she said, “He wasn’t a pretty young brunette, not your type at all.”
“No,” the caller agreed. “You’re my type.”
Her chill got worse.
“He was in the way. He saw me. Shined his damn light right on me. What was I supposed to do? Let him just walk away?”
“He didn’t know you were a killer,” Ivy argued. “You were two men in the dark.”
“I had my knife out. He saw it. He knew me.”
Bennett mouthed, “Keep him talking.”
“The cops found out about your other victims. The ones here and in New Orleans. They’re going to find you.”
Silence.
So much for getting the guy to keep talking.
“Hello?” Ivy pushed. “Are you—”
“You’re letting him hear the call, aren’t you, Ivy?” He sighed, sounding disappointed. “You aren’t going to trap me. That isn’t the way this works.” Voices rose in the background. She could hear laughter. Music? “But I will be trapping you. We’ll be meeting again. Very, very soon.”
He hung up.
“A party,” Ivy muttered. “Another ball?”
Bennett didn’t answer, he just spun and rushed for the door. “We’re going to try and trace that call.”
Could he do that? She hoped so but the knot in her stomach told her things weren’t going to be so easy. This guy—if he’d been killing for years, he wasn’t going to just go down with a slip-up like a traceable call. He’d probably used a burner phone or he’d stolen someone else’s phone or—hell, he could have done just about anything.
No, it wasn’t going to be that easy.
The guy was playing a game. He’d called so she’d know. So she’d be afraid.
I will be trapping you.
And, dammit, she was scared.
***
He slipped the phone into his pocket and smiled. Another night, another ball. And there were so many beautiful brunettes at that ball. Their dresses were lovely, glinting in the light. Whispering against their legs as the women walked.
High heels. Sexy scents.
Such tempting prey.
Not as tempting as she is.
He smiled and then pushed back through the crowd. This ball wasn’t held at the convention center. No, tonight he’d chosen to attend the ball held in one of the historic mansions in downtown Mobile. A mansion with a spiral staircase and too many glittering chandeliers.
He saw the dark-haired man to his right. He bumped into the guy, mumbling his apologies even as he slipped the phone back into the guy’s pocket. It had certainly been easy enough to take that phone minutes before.
In a crush like this, pockets were meant to be picked.
“Sorry, there, buddy,” he muttered as he straightened up. “I think I’ve had a few too many drinks tonight.”
The man smiled at him, flashing a dimple in his left cheek. “That’s okay. Just be careful.” His smile dimmed. “You don’t want to go driving home that way.”
Gravely, he shook his head. “A taxi is in my future.”
The guy’s dark brown eyes warmed. “Good man.” He clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m Hugh. Hugh DuLane.”
Tell me something I don’t already know…
“Hell of a party, isn’t it?” Hugh asked.
Yes, it was.
***
“My brother?” Ivy’s lips had parted in shock. “That’s not possible. That wasn’t Hugh!”
The tech glanced over at Bennett, saying nothing. But then, the guy didn’t need to say a word. The information on the computer screen was pretty undeniable. Thanks to the pull at the police department, they’d been able to get the phone company to hook them right up with the information they’d needed.
The caller had attempted to block his number, using the old *67 trick, but they’d still been able to trace him.
The phone belonged to Hugh DuLane.
Hugh, who just happened to be Bennett’s size. Hugh, who just happened to have dark hair. Hugh…who just happened to have a sister who looked exactly like the other victims.
Fucking Hugh.
“No way,” Ivy said flatly. “He would never do this! And, hell, don’t you think I’d recognize my own brother’s voice?”
“He was at the ball last night,” Bennett reminded her.
“Yes, with me!” Her cheeks flushed and she yanked the phone from his hands. He knew that she was calling her brother even before she—
Worry slid across her face. She kept the phone near her ear, but it was obvious that Hugh wasn’t answering her. “Something is wrong,” Ivy said. She dropped the phone. “Hugh always takes my calls.”
“Where is he?”
She began to pace. “He was going to another ball tonight. His girlfriend—Shelly is in the Maidens of Folly. They were having her party at the Melton House tonight.”