She didn’t have time for chitchat. “I only have a minute. What can I do for you?” Had she forgotten some of her belongings at his place?
He cleared his throat. “We’ve had another murder. Another woman like the rest.”
She stepped back and sank to the bed. Her stomach lurched. “You’re saying Robert Delaney had a partner.”
“No—no, I’m not saying that. It’s entirely possible we have a copycat on our hands. You know that happens more often than not.” Another horn blared, and he grumbled a curse.
She pushed wayward curls off her cheek, and her hand trembled. “Then why are you calling me?”
“I thought you should be kept in the loop.” His voice lowered. “And I’ve missed you.”
Huh. “I appreciate the heads-up. Where was the body found?” Delaney had chosen each place carefully, and Mia had factored in the kill sites while creating the profile that had ultimately led to catching him.
“Frankfort, Kentucky.”
She blinked. This was the first murder outside of DC. “He moved locations?”
“As I said, it’s a copycat. Delaney is dead, and nobody thinks he had an accomplice.” The sound of a garage door opening came over the line. He must have had his windows down, even though DC was experiencing an odd heat wave.
“Except me,” she whispered.
“Even you’re not sure about that, and after your ordeal, it’s understandable that you weren’t at top form.” Clothing rustled, and a car door shut quietly. He cleared his throat. “If I can get you assigned to thisnewcase, will you come home?”
Her eyebrows rose. “The FBI let me go. You can’t get me assigned to anything.”
“You don’t know that.”
She cocked her head, studying the lake outside her window. It was calm during the late afternoon, the depths a mysterious midnight color. “You stepped back the second they investigated me, and now you want to help me? Why?”
“I’ve missed you.” Another door opened, and his heavy footsteps echoed across the tiled floor of his kitchen.
She’d spent plenty of time there cooking with him, even though it had been his hobby and not hers—she didn’t much enjoy cooking. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“We were together for two years. Don’t you miss what we had?”
Two years. Seven hundred and thirty days, more or less. Yet when she’d needed him, he’d protected his career. Her mind flashed to Seth Volk. When she’d neededhim,he’d jumped in front of her and taken a tackle from a guy built like a bear. Yet she kept fighting him on every front. This was confusing. She rubbed her head. He couldn’t be a killer, could he?
“Mia?” Kurt asked.
She jerked back to the moment. “Tell me about the case.”
He paused. “I can’t tell you unless you come back in.”
“Not true.” Yeah, it was true. “Just bounce ideas off me. How similar was the crime?” She looked toward the bottom drawer of her dresser where she had stashed her case file, the only one she’d brought with her across the country—in case she’d been correct, and Delaney indeed had a partner. “Exactly the same?”
“No. Vic’s name was Linda Keelson. The media has it and is running with the story.”
In other words, Kurt wouldn’t break any confidences by telling her anything. He was still protecting his career.
Mia pushed farther back on the bed and crossed her legs beneath her. “And?”
“She went missing around five a.m. on Monday and was found by ten p.m. on Tuesday. She’d been dead already for several hours when discovered.”
Mia plucked at a loose string on the bedspread. “So he didn’t stick to the seventy-two-hour timeframe as before.” Perhaps itwasa copycat. “Was she strangled?”
“Yeah. Tortured and strangled like the others. She was also left in a back-alley dumpster outside of a steak restaurant. Like most of the others.” They’d all been found in dumpsters, but the locations had ranged from outside restaurants to ones in the woods used by campers.
“DNA?”
