She flattened her hand on the table. A hand that had once held his ring—he’d let her keep it when he’d broken off the engagement. What else was he going to do with the diamond? “Don’t you miss us? We had some fun.”
They’d had a whirlwind romance and he’d liked her, but his focus had been on his job. Until that last case had broken him. “I’m not sure we really knew each other.” Oh, they’d been good in the sack, and they’d had some fun at a couple of her podcast fundraisers, but he hadn’t realized what made her tick. That ambition and getting her face on television would trump anything they might’ve created. “I’m not looking backward, Rachel.”
“Neither am I. But forward might be a good way to go.” She smiled, and he had to admit she looked lovely.
Yet her beauty no longer moved him. “What do you have for my case?” As the waiter brought their drinks, Huck leaned back and took a sip of the local lager.
“You first.” She twirled the rosé in her glass, watching the liquid catch the light.
What could he tell her that wouldn’t be too much? “What do you know?”
“Come on, Huck.” When he didn’t relent, she sighed. “Fine. I know you have two victims, both professional women, with their faces smashed in beyond recognition. In addition, flowers were found around both bodies. What kind of flowers?” She had decent sources, but they’d kept the type of flower out of all reports. So it wasn’t anybody on the scene who was feeding her information.
“Hell if I know,” he said. “I’m not a flower type of guy.”
“I remember.” She chuckled. “But you’re also not stupid, and you know what kind of flower. Does it matter?”
He’d forgotten how smart she was. “Not really, but again, not my focus.” He wouldn’t tell her about the black dahlias. However, no doubt she’d either charm somebody at the Genesis Valley police station or file a public information request soon, so he might as well give her something she’d find out anyway. He leaned forward, lowering his voice and noting how her breath caught. “All right. Both victims were stalked for a period of time before being killed. Dr. Rox had apparently fled to the middle of nowhere, and the guy found her anyway.”
Rachel’s mouth slightly parted and her color heightened. “That’s a good angle.”
What in the hell had he ever seen in her?
“All right.” She took a sip of her wine and murmured with approval. “I have a source who claims that Dr. Sharon Lamber was having an affair, and that’s why her marriage broke up.” Her eyes crinkled with what looked like delight. “The source thinks it might even be the mayor, her brother-in-law, but could not confirm that fact.”
Huck kept his expression neutral. “The guy was sleeping with his wife’s sister?” He hadn’t gotten that vibe from the mayor, but again, the man was an experienced politician.
Rachel held up one hand. “My source was guessing and had no concrete facts. But I’m sure you’re dumping the victims’ phones?”
Huck nodded.
“When I heard that, I looked for any connection between the mayor and Dr. Rox.”
Huck took a bigger drink of his beer. The last thing he wanted was to owe Rachel, but she’d uncovered a connection that he hadn’t. “And?”
“I haven’t found one yet, but if you do, you have to let me know. You owe me now.” Her eyes gleamed the way they always had when she was on a good story. “I feel something big here.”
Huck was saved from answering when the waiter brought the delicious-smelling piccata. He put his napkin on his lap, and the hair at his nape tingled. Slowly, he looked up to scan the interior of the restaurant, his gaze catching on Laurel Snow and her mother as the hostess escorted them to a table. “Laurel?”
She paused and strode toward him, her gaze moving to Rachel and then back. “Huck.”
Why did he feel as if he’d just been caught with his hand in a cookie jar? “Hi.”
Rachel was already extending a hand. “Special Agent Snow, I recognize you from that interview you gave during the Snowblood case. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Rachel Raprenzi fromThe Killing Hour. It’s a new podcast that streams through Everett channels.”
Laurel shook hands and then stepped back. For her night out, she’d changed into black slacks and a green sweater that made the green in her one eye nearly glow.
Her mother hovered at her side, even though she was several inches taller than her petite daughter. “Hi, Officer.”
“Hi, Ms. Snow,” Huck said. Would the woman ever like him? Was it just him or all men? After what she’d been through, he couldn’t blame her if it was the entire male species.
Rachel set her napkin on the table. “Besides catching up—you know we used to be engaged—we were just discussing the Witch Creek Killer. I mean, the flowers left around the body. The roses?”
Huck’s breath sucked in.
Laurel was too smart to take the bait. “I don’t discuss ongoing cases, Ms. Raprenzi.” She dismissed them both and grasped her mother’s arm. “Enjoy your dinner.” They moved quickly away.
Rachel’s smile was sharp. “You are so sleeping with her.”
