“We’ll take two of those.” Seth glanced at Mia, who gave a half shrug. Yeah, that sounded good.
The waitress nodded. “Anything for you, Seth.” She paused and looked at Mia. “You’re working on Ruby’s case, right?”
Mia stiffened. “I am. Did you know her?”
“Not really, but nobody around here would kill her. You should let the sheriff do his job and go away.” Then she flounced off, but not before taking a second to wink at Seth.
Mia fought the incredibly strong urge to roll her eyes.
“What?” Seth shoved the ketchup bottle out of the way so he could plant his forearms on the scarred wooden table.
“You’re quite the catch around here, aren’t you?” Mia unfolded the paper napkin to place on her lap.
“Things aren’t always what they seem.” A scowl twisted his upper lip. “In fact, around here, they’re never what they seem.” He glanced at the gold cross nestled against her chest. “You believe in God?”
She shrugged. “The jury’s out on that one. How about you?”
“Maybe. For other people, I mean. If there’s a God, he’s not concerned with me.” While matter-of-fact, the tone hinted at something else.
Most sociopaths either didn’t believe in God or figured they were on par with a deity. Mia’s shoulders stiffened. “Did you kill Ruby?”
“No. Who did you kill before fleeing west?”
Fleeingwas as good a term as any. “Robert Joseph Delaney. He killed fifteen women by strangulation in a three-year time. All sex workers and easy marks. Picked them up, tortured them for seventy-two hours, and then killed them before dumping their bodies in DC dumpsters. I interviewed him…looked into his eyes…and knew he was guilty.”
Seth watched her patiently, giving her the full focus of his attention. “You arrested him?”
“No. Couldn’t get him to break—and there wasn’t enough evidence. Mainly, he had an alibi for two of the murders. But time of death wasn’t certain on either, so maybe not.” Mia’s gut began to roll. She’d forgotten her antacids.
“So, you let him go?”
“Yes.” A sharp stomach pain replaced the roll. She needed those pills. “He turned all his attention on me and ended up mentally torturing my mother for several hours one night until I arrived home.”
Mia remembered the night so vividly. The front porch light hadn’t been on…and she’d known. She’d just known. So she’d taken out her gun, circled around the house, and saw them in the kitchen. No thought, no heroic measures to arrest him, nothing had entered her head. She’d taken aim through the window and shot him through the throat.
“His blood coated the pastel yellow curtains my mother had made. So much red—and I didn’t feel a thing.” More than anything, that still bothered her. No fear, no fury, just…nothing. As if for the tiniest of moments, she was the one who’d turned into the sociopath.
“You’re not supposed to feel anything when you kill,” Seth said softly.
The words took seconds to register. “How many times have you killed?”
“More than you.” Seth nodded as Mandy set down the plates. “While I won’t lie during lunch, I’m not confessing to any crimes here.”
The man was smart. He hadn’t really confessed to enough for her to get any type of warrant, yet he hadn’t lied. “Have you committed many crimes?”
He shrugged. “Depends on whose laws you’re talking about. Society’s or nature’s.”
“Nature has the same laws.”
“No. Natural law is much different than man-made laws,” he murmured.
Great. A sexy, possible sociopathic philosopher. “Did you kill Ruby?”
“No.” He took a big bite of his sandwich. “You mentioned that Robert Joseph Delaney had a partner. Is that because he may have had an alibi for a couple of his murders?”
Wow. Seth had a good memory, too. She took a bite of her sandwich, fighting a low moan at the delicious flavors. There was nothing like a hometown diner. While in the city, she’d missed good, greasy food like this. “That was one of the reasons.”
“And the other?”
