“Showed up an hour ago on the banks of the river, fake tits bared to the sky. One of Daniels’, if I had to guess. It was downstream from his haunt. Can’t wait to tell him.”
Cold stiffened my limbs. “Do you know her name yet?”
“No clothes, no ID.”
“How about a basic description?”
“Brunette. Long red nails with diamonds. Your basic stripper uniform.”
I had the worst feeling about this. Not only because it was another murder, but of who I thought it might be. There was only one woman who came to mind. “How did she die?”
“Does my badge read ‘Pathologist’? Got to go. Enjoy your…ah, fuck, bye.”
He hung up, and I turned to Kane.
“Could you hear that?”
“Every word.”
I fluttered my fingers over my dressing gown tie. “I think the dead woman might be Karla. We need to go.”
We readied to leave the house in minutes. I threw on a warm lilac jumper then snatched up my Skeleton Girls Detective Agency t-shirt at the last minute, tossing that into my bag.
I was probably going to need it.
In the car, badly parked, which told me a lot about Kane’s state of mind when he’d got here, Kane found his phone which had apparently been in the footwell all night, glanced at it, grumbled, then tossed it to the back seat. I likewise turned mine on, guilt filling me at all the missed calls and texts, then quickly messaged my Skeleton Girls group, asking to meet up urgently.
Kane got us on the road. “Where are we going?”
“The warehouse.”
His gaze stayed forward. “Not the graveyard? We can do that first.”
My mouth popped open, realisation catching up that we weren’t on the same page. He was still playing through the phone call with my father. “My mother was cremated, not buried. There is no grave. I only suggested it to Julian because he was annoying me and it was the quickest way to get him off my back and helping out.”
He ducked his head in acknowledgement then focused on driving.
Except I couldn’t drag my gaze off him. He’d said ‘we’.Wecould go to the graveyard. He would’ve come with me. My thoughts on the poor murdered woman went on hold while I tackled a much more immediate problem.
What Kane was doing to my heart.
“Would you have stayed?”
He shifted in his seat but didn’t speak.
“With me in my house, I mean. When you thought I was kicking you out, you looked sad. Kane, would you have stayed?”
He swallowed but still didn’t reply.
“For God’s sake. This is not the time for the silent treatment. You have to answer. Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
I stared. “Why?”
“I…don’t know.”
My heart thumped out of time. It would’ve been easier if he’d said no. Easier to understand the man who walked away from the grieving woman rather than deal with messy emotions. At least I could’ve put a label on everything that had happened between us.
