Chapter 36 #2
“Look.” She levels her sharp gaze at me.
“I’m not an idiot. I’m well aware of the…
shall we say…family businesses that most of the students here at Knightsblood are connected to.
For the most part, my officers are happy to look the other way.
Frankly, we don’t have the time, money, or shits to give about mafia-related drama at this college.
” She shrugs. “Unless it spills into the streets of Hawthorne Hollow, that is. But when the chief of the local police station is on Kyle Santoro’s payroll, it becomes a problem we can't overlook.”
She fixes me with her penetrating gaze.
“Ms. De Luca, two and half months ago, you called our tipline, claiming that Kyle Santoro had evidence in his possession regarding the Jane Doe murder.”
My face goes white. “But—I mean—”
She sighs. “I know. It’s supposed to be anonymous. But when something like this blows up in our faces…” Chief Cross lifts an eloquent shoulder. “There’s a security camera overlooking the landline at the library you used to call the tipline.”
Fuck.
As a wave of panic washes over me, she shakes her head. “You’re not in trouble, Yelena. I just want to know what you think connected Kyle to Jane Doe.”
Shit. Shit-shit-shit-FUCK-shit.
Like I’m going to tell her that I asked my cousin to steal evidence from her own police evidence locker, and then planted it on Kyle to set him up for murder?
Then again…sometimes bad things have to be done to catch bad people…
“I overheard him bragging that he knew something about the case,” I lie, way too easily.
But, come on, this is Kyle we’re talking about.
Fuck him.
Chief Cross frowns. “Did he say what, specifically?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry.”
She smiles. “That’s okay.” Her brow furrows.
“I hate to say it, but I think that may have just been a college guy talking shit. We’ve been looking into Mr. Santoro, especially since his abrupt disappearance, and there’s nothing linking him to Jane Doe.
No physical or even circumstantial evidence, and he’s got iron-clad alibis for the time when we believe she was killed. ”
I nod, swallowing.
“Yelena, there’s another reason I wanted to come talk to you today.” She frowns. “Did you and Kyle Santoro ever have any sort of…relationship?”
I suppress the immediate and urgent need to vomit.
“Our fathers were in business together for a time,” I say truthfully. “But that’s over. I don’t know Kyle very well. We only overlapped at Knightsblood for a year.”
She nods thoughtfully. “So him gaining access to your room here at Morvaine wasn’t because he previously had a key or anything.”
I go still.
“Um…what?”
Her brows knit. “When he—” Her eyes widen. “I am so sorry. You didn’t know that was him?”
I blink quickly, heart racing. “Excuse me?”
She smiles wryly. “A month or so ago, did you not find a threatening note written in lipstick on your mirror? And in the women’s locker room at the gym?”
My chest constricts.
LEAVE THE DEAD WHERE THEY LIE.
THE DEAD KNOW WHAT YOU DID, YELENA. THE DEAD DO NOT FORGET.
Chief Cross sighs. “We searched Kyle’s condo in town, and he had two Polaroids taped to his fridge: one of the message on your mirror in your room, and then another of…I’m so sorry to tell you this…you wrapped in a towel looking at the one on the locker room mirror.”
Jesus. And I thought I was being fucking haunted…
She frowns. “I genuinely have no idea why he was trying to scare you, especially if you had no prior relationship.” She shrugs. “Maybe something to do with the business arrangement with your fathers? Regardless, until we find Kyle, this might remain a dead end.”
Thank God.
They don’t know about Damiano stealing police evidence. Or about me planting the evidence in Lochlan Kildare’s room. Kyle seems to have known, somehow. But it’s clear Chief Cross doesn’t.
“Do you have any idea where Kyle might be?” I croak.
She tips her head side to side. “Maybe. We’re working with the FBI field office in New York to put a tap on some of his known financials, to see if we can catch up with him.
But it’s looking like he drained the fund he ran before he took off, and given the sort of people who were investing with him…
” She delicately clears her throat. “My guess is, he’s overseas somewhere trying to get a visa for a non-extradition country. ”
I swallow. “So… He isn’t the Shoreline Killer?”
She smiles. “I can say with almost full certainty that he isn’t.
It's nothing I would worry about, Yelena. Two unexplained deaths…the first of which has not yet been proven to involve foul play, incidentally…do not a serial killer make. As much as the local media want to scare everyone to sell papers.” She shrugs.
“Jane Doe could very well have fallen off a boat a hundred miles from here. And the more recent victim…” She spreads her hands.
“It looks like a crime of passion, which nine times out of ten means a domestic or lover’s quarrel.
As soon as we can get a positive ID on him, I’m sure we’ll find his jilted girlfriend or boyfriend. ”
I shiver, remembering my sheer terror when I found those messages scrawled on the mirrors.
And it was just Kyle fucking with me.
“Anyway…” Chief Cross stands, as do I. “I just wanted to stop by and let you know that calling police tip lines does work. The reason your tip was never escalated was that my predecessor buried it, since he was on Kyle's payroll.”
I smile weakly as I shake her hand. “But you think Kyle is…you know…gone?”
She nods. “I was a detective in the Bronx before I took the job here in Hawthorne Hollow. Every instinct I have tells me he’s long gone from the country.” She smiles. “You have nothing to worry about. But if you’d like a uniformed officer posted outside of Morvaine—”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” I murmur.
Because I’m not staying here. I’m spending all my nights in the arms of someone who would literally kill for me.
Chief Cross smiles. “Well, if you change your mind, please call.” She hands me her card, which still lists her as “Hawthorne Hollow Police Department - Head Detective”.
When she's gone, I head inside to shower and quickly change, because at this point, I’m running a little late.
Half an hour later, my heart skips and my lips pull into an involuntary grin when I walk into the student parking lot near the faculty buildings and find him leaning on his Range Rover, waiting for me.
“Sorry I’m late,” I blurt as I rush over to him. “I—”
He turns to smile at me, and when my eyes land on the purplish bruise around his left eye, the whole thing with Jude comes rushing back.
“Achilles!” I rush over to him, my face caving with worry as I reach for him.
“It’s fine, baby,” he growls, taking my hand and entwining his fingers with mine. “Looks worse than it feels.”
My brows furrow. “What the fuck happened between you and Jude?”
Achilles’ jaw tightens. “So, he did go to you,” he growls. “Let me guess. I’m the big bad boyfriend who stuck his nose into Jude’s business and got what was coming to me.” He smiles grimly. “And he’s worried about you spending time with me given my violent tenancies.”
I blush as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his body.
“More or less word for word accurate,” I mumble.
Achilles glowers, then sighs. “What about you? Are you worried about spending time with me?”
I smile and shake my head. “Of course not. But…seriously…Jude?”
His jaw grinds. “Can we just drop it? I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”
I look up at him and kiss his chest through his shirt. “Please tell me?”
He sighs heavily. “Jude’s personal business involves my cousin Selene.”
My brow arches. “Wait, are Jude and Selene—”
“Little prey.” I shiver when his dark eyes drop to mine as he lifts my hands to his mouth and kisses them. “I don’t want to talk about anything tonight but you and I. How does that sound?”
I grin. “Sounds perfect.”
Achilles starts the engine of the Range Rover as I climb into the passenger seat, and I grin when Tom Petty’s Free Fallin’ starts to play on the sound system.
“How do you always know what’s inside my head?”
He grins. “Superpowers.”
I roll my eyes. “I mean it. Whenever I’m with you, everything is…” I shake my head. “Like, this is one of my favorite songs ever.”
He chuckles. “You caught me. I’ve been hooking you up to a mind-reading machine while you sleep. I planned this whole playlist so when you got in the car, you'd hear your favorite song. What are the odds that it would be by some wildly unknown artist like Tom Petty?”
I give him a look and stick out my tongue. “Ha ha ha. Screw you.”
Obviously, he’s joking. But it is crazy how well he knows me. Yeah, maybe the fact that one of my favorite songs is an insanely well-known, well-loved, and often played pop song doesn’t make it that crazy. But when I’m around Achilles, there’s always stuff like this.
Like at the dining hall the other day, when I got to our table, exactly what I wanted for dinner was already waiting there for me.
When we get to the front gates, with the option of turning left to head into town or right to drive up toward Griswold Hill, Achilles stops the car.
“Just how hungry are you?” he growls in a low, rough tone that sends a shiver straight to my core.
I can feel the heat flickering over my cheeks as I turn to him.
“Why?” I ask, my voice also lowering.
“Because as nice a place as this restaurant is, I might be in the mood for something more…private.”
God, he's turned me into an addict for him.
“Where did you have in mind?” I grin.
“Bistro de le Haunted Cabin,” he murmurs with a sly smile. “Very exclusive.”
My grin widens as I squirm. “What's the dress code?”
“Clothing optional."
I giggle. “Atmosphere?”
“Dark. Wooded. Primal.”
My nipples tighten as I look at him.
“And the menu?”
I gasp quietly when he reaches over and wraps his hand around my throat. His thumb traces down my jawline as he twists my head to look at him, and I swallow hard when I see the dark fire in his eyes.
“You.”