“If Detective Walker hadn’t stopped Enoch, that could have been me,” I muttered.
“Are you on about that again?” Journey sank his pointy elbow into my side. “Just because that man tried to beat you doesn’t mean he’s the murderer who has been leaving bloody park surprises.”
“You mean serial killer. How many does this make?” I bit my lip. “Definitely enough to qualify.”
“Seven,” Journey whispered grimly.
“Why not? Why couldn’t it be Mr. Enoch?”
“Because he owns a coffee shop. He’s invested in the community,” Journey pointed out, wrinkling his nose at me. “Killers are loner degenerates.”
Touching my throat, I shook my head. “He clearly has no soul, and it would be the perfect cover. It would let him case people… and stuff.”
Journey pursed his lips and shook his head, but then he gulped loud enough to hear and pointed at something on the ground about ten feet away from the dead guy, surrounded by yellow caution tape on stakes.
Fighting off a wave of nausea, I asked, “Is that a head?”
“I would think we should refer to it asthehead, unless there’s another body lying around,” he murmured, his amused tone letting me know how wildly pleased he was with himself.
“Smartass,” I whispered, and he laughed.
My stomach heated as I caught sight of Detective Walker talking to a man in uniform. His black leather coat made his shoulders seem bigger, and they were huge already. Either the other men around him were short or he was just that massive. He frowned, then glanced up directly at me, and I thought I might pass out at the cold, hard stare he laid on me. I’d never had anyone look at me that way. It was almost as if he wanted to come over and… carry me off. Or devour me alive. He started toward me, and excited prickles raced across my skin, though whether they were good or bad, I wasn’t certain.
“Christ, that man has some mojo around him.” Journey blew out a low whistle.
Detective Walker came closer, and as he neared me, some of the intensity faded and a bright spark of interest flashed in his gaze. He slid a glance down my body and gave me a wide smile when he focused on my face again.
Journey snickered, and I flushed hot all over from the obvious perusal.
“Hi,” I gasped out.
“What are you doing here? I was about to call you.” Detective Walker pulled his phone out of his pocket in an attempt to shore up what must be a lie, but I let it go.
The detective stole my breath when he focused on my lips, and I could barely think around the punch of reactive heat that landed in my gut and sank lower. I raised the collection bag for Healing Hearts until it hid the bottom half of my face, and he snapped his attention to my eyes again. “The holidays are coming up. I take care of the funds drive for the toys. For kids, you know? It’s my job every year.”
Detective Walker frowned, and I slowly lowered the bag. His big hands fidgeted at his sides, opening and then closing into tight fists like he wanted to grab something… maybe me? Did he want to kiss me? My mind spun out of control. No one ever paid this much attention to me.
He cleared his throat. “I could ask at the station if anyone wants to donate.”
“You don’t have to do anything like that.” My nervous laughter had me wincing. I sounded exactly like a falling-apart mess. For some reason I hadn’t quite remembered his rugged attractiveness or his dark good looks. He slid his hands into his coat pockets and took a step closer, bringing the sharp spice of a citrusy cologne with him—mixed with leather, of course. I pulled the scent deep into my lungs and almost moaned out loud. It wasn’t right for a man to smell that good. My cock tingled.Do not pop wood. Holy of holies, do not pop wood.
“You know what? I’m gonna”—Journey smacked me on the shoulder and pointed toward a group of familiar-looking unshaven men in shabby coats standing in a cluster nearby, with Styrofoam coffee cups in their hands—“talk to Sandy and his friends.” He leaned close and whispered, “Fuck, dude. He’s all-in. Sell your finer qualities, boy toy.”
“Stop,” I mouthed at him, but he only laughed and strolled over to the group of men who frequented the shelter. They gave Journey a hero’s welcome, and it was clear, at least to me, they were excited to fill him in on the gossip.
Forcing a smile for Detective Walker, I murmured a thank-you. “Donations are always appreciated.”
He cleared his throat. His brow furrowed, then smoothed as he glanced up with a smile. “Purely selfish on my part. Thought you’d waste some time with me if you already had the money locked in.”
The mist turned into a fine spattering of rain as I crossed my arms and another cold breeze blew through, ruffling my hair and flapping the scarf into my face. I sputtered, and he laughed and grabbed the waving cloth. I stood statue-still as he tucked the ends of the scarf into the collar of my jacket. “Aren’t you working?”
“Only when I’m asking interview questions.” He winked. “Where were you between midnight and five in the morning?”
“At home in bed,” I said in a rush, actually a little nervous.
He scowled. “Alone?”
“Of course,” I said on a soft breath.
