He closed his eyes, his expression sublime.
“You did this somewhere far away, I hope.”
“The personal, Jessica, does not always leave room for the tactical.”
“Are you fucking with me? I haven’t heard anything.”
“It was four hours ago.”
“Xavier,” I groaned. “Please tell me it wasn’t a student. We don’t need the heat right now.”
He snapped out of his revery, shook his head. “A dubious character, meeting an unsurprising end. He was inconveniencing an old friend of mine.”
I stared at him, trying to figure out what he was telling me. There was a glow in his eyes, a gleam of triumph that went beyond a first kill.
Personal.And he’d come to tell me about it a few hours later.
“Xavier Lindqvist. Did you murder someone…for me?”
He pushed up his sleeve to pick at the bandage.
I shook my head. I didn’t have enemies. The old Jessica hadn’t cared enough to make them.
“He told the police about a woman in a mask.” Xavier peeled the plastic wrap away, and blew gently on the tattoo. A black heart, framed with spots of seeping blood. “I took it as an affront.”
The bearded man at reception, the one I’d bribed with a $100 bill.
“You’re welcome,” Xavier said.
My head swam for a moment. “Do you seriously think it helps me if there’sanothermurder linked to that hotel?”
“A murder, Jessica? Please.” He gently pressed the bandage back on. “Well, if you aren’t going to congratulate me, maybe one of your cousins will.”
He stood up and dusted his pants. “Do you ever think about our little tryst?”
I wondered what he wanted me to say. What would the old Jessica have said? Something cutting.
But he wouldn’t have dared ask her.
“We were children,” I said.
“We were never children. It wasn’t allowed. I thought you were perfect—fearless, so sure of yourself. You were the one who showed me how we’re supposed to be. Always in control, but somehow never cold to the touch.”
None of those things was true anymore. But I ached for them. I missed that certainty.
He took a step closer, bent down. “Is that a tear on your cheek?”
I wiped it away. “That happens now. Since the smoke.”
A sigh as he stood again. “I’ll pretend otherwise. Drinks at Riley’s, midnight, to celebrate my Hefnd. If you care to join.”
“No place I’d rather be,” I said. “Congratulations, Xavier. I look forward to hearing the story.”
He beamed, unable to hold a grudge. “I’ll spare no details. Enjoy your dreary banking studies, but save something for my party.”
It was on the newsbefore midnight.
A hotel employee, found in his bedroom, dead of an overdose. A suspect in Crystal’s murder, who’d tried to confuse the investigators withwild stories. He had a history of drug use, a rap sheet of offenses—nonviolent, but crimes were crimes. Clearly the killer.
