The one thing she kept coming back to—why make one look like an animal attack and the other not? Had someone stumbled onto the scene of the second killing before the killer could do whatever they had planned?
Or was this done intentionally to confuse them?
“They were trying to open a portal.”
Sorcha screamed as that deep, smooth voice intruded on her thoughts. “Oh my God!”
“Uh, definitely not. Wouldn’t even attempt to take on the big guy. Nor do I want any piece of His responsibilities.” Luke shut her office door and moved closer to her. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t normally act like that. Assholes tend to set me off and bring out the worst in me.”
“Then I will try not to be an asshole.”
Shaking his head, he handed her the pink paper gift bag in his hand.
Sorcha frowned at it. “What’s this?”
“An I’m-an-asshole gift to make amends for my stupidity.” Those words charmed her a lot more than they should.
She smiled at him. “Thank you, but I’d already forgiven you.”
“’Preciate it, but don’t thank me yet. You might hate what I got you.”
“I doubt that.” Sorcha pulled the gold tissue paper off the top to find a bottle of Butterducks Merlot, a red and white striped box that held pralines, turtles and divinity and several small bags of Byrd’s cookies. “Should I ask?”
Luke shrugged nonchalantly. “Some of the best of Savannah. I couldn’t let you spend another night in town without some Byrd’s cookies and treats from Savannah’s Candy Kitchen. And Butterducks makes the best wines.”
It was incredibly sweet and thoughtful. But then Bert used to do things like this, too.
I got the cookie for you. Bert’s favorite saying. Fucking bastard would buy things he wanted and pretend like he was an altruist who only thought of others.
He was the real closet demon.
Get thee behind me, Douchebag! She was so sick of thinking about him and his cruelty.
Luke cleared his throat. “I don’t want anything from you, Sorcha, other than for you to forgive me for popping off when I shouldn’t have. While I have a temper, I normally corral it better, and I hate when it gets the best of me. I’m not my father. I don’t like snapping at people for no reason.”
“It’s okay. I have a bit of a nasty temper myself, and a mouth to match it. Means you’ll need to share the addresses for Butterducks, Byrd’s and Savannah’s Candy Kitchen so that I’ll know where to go buy gifts for you when I do the same.”
He chuckled. “I’m easy as I eat most anything…but ice cream works best for me.”
“Really?” Given his aversion to the cold, she’d have thought that was the last thing he’d want to eat.
“Yeah. I freeze my ass off when I eat it, but we don’t have it in Hell. Too hot. So I’m trying to get my fill before I go home.”
That made sense. Poor thing.
She set the bag down on the floor by her desk and turned her radio down. It was freakishly quiet now. Not a single peep from the closet brigade.
Were they afraid of Luke? Or had something happened to them?
“Made any progress?” Luke asked as he looked over the notes she’d added.
“Not at all. But I did discover one thing.”
He turned toward her with an arched brow. “And that is?”
“Want to explain to me about your closet filled with demons?”
Chapter
