That didn't change the fact hers looked exactly like the ones in the clear photo.
Before they realized I was staring, I jerked my gaze back up and returned my attention to making customer's lunches. I could come up with an explanation for most things, but why I was interested in her shoes was something I couldn't explain. As it was, my head was spinning.
Was there a chance those photos were of Erin's feet? If they were, what did that mean? Was it a coincidence, or were those photos meant for me? If they were hers, what had they done to her? Was her working here in the first place some kind of set up?
I couldn't bring myself to believe that. Didn'twantto believe it. If she knew what I was…
"I heard something interesting," Gina said, breaking through my thoughts. "You know Wolfgang Taylor-Francis? The businessman? Apparently he was murdered. The news said the guy that did it cut out his heart. They're calling him the Heart-Renderer. Because, you know, he rendered the heart out of the guy’s chest." She made a tugging motion with her hand.
"That's disgusting," Erin declared.
If only you knew I have that heart sitting in a jar in my apartment,I thought.
"That's terrible," I said vaguely. "Do they think it was a one-off?”
"Seems a few high-profile men have died recently," Gina said. "They think there might be a serial killer."
I slid a glance toward Erin. If she was here watching me, hearing that might evoke a response from her.
She shrugged. "What's a couple less billionaires?" Her eyes were glazed, thinking back to the life she had before I found herand took her in. She wouldn't mind if a few abusive men met a sticky end.
"Yeah, well, be careful," I told both of them. "They might decide to deviate from killing men like that." Of course, they were safe from me and my men, but we weren't the worst of the worst around town.
We were…the best of the worst.
Gina shuddered. "If that doesn't give a girl nightmares, nothing will. What sort of sicko carves out someone's heart? Killing him is bad enough." She stuck out her tongue in revulsion.
"Depends what they did," Erin said softly. "I mean, some people are assholes."
"That doesn't mean they deserve to die," Gina said. "That's what prison is for."
She took the ready plates I handed her and bustled away to serve them to the waiting customers.
"Sometimes they don't go to prison," Erin said, her voice still low but with an edge of emotion.
"No, they don't," I agreed. "Sounds like this Heart-Renderer is dealing with them." Quickly, I added, "Ifwhat they're saying about Wolfgang Taylor-Francis is true. He didn't seem like a good guy."
"You almost sound like you admire this Heart-Renderer guy," Erin said, tilting her head and regarding me.
I did admire him. Archer was smart and believed the same things I did. He was romantic, carving out hearts to give them to me. How could I not like him?
Admittedly, I was a little jealous he'd been given a cool nickname and I hadn't.
Although, I was good at disappearing my kills, and we weren't able to do that with Taylor-Francis. If I had to guess, I'd think the police didn't realize two of us were involved that night.
Otherwise, they would absolutely have given me a cool nickname. Right?
What would it be? If they knew Archer carved the heart out for me, they might call me something like The Collector, or Heart-Taker.
Okay, neither of those were cool. Still, it was better than nothing, right?
"We should get those vegetables put away," I said, seeing her waiting for a response.
"And by we, you mean me." She picked up the cleaned vegetables, gave them a wipe and took them into the fridge to put them away.
I couldn't help my gaze dropping to her shoes when her back was turned. It had to be a coincidence. The only other explanations were too fucked up to consider. I hated not trusting her, but I was going to have to keep an eye on her for the next while.
If she was working for someone else? She might be in meatballs instead of learning how to make them.
