time I noticed he was wearing a sports coat and tie instead of his usual leather jacket and tie. I looked down. Slacks instead of khakis. And nice loafers.
I liked the idea that he’d put some effort into this. For Danny.
“Everybody loving the victim just makes my job harder.”
“You like it when everybody hates the victim?”
“Well, that’s difficult too. Too many suspects.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said.
“Which was? Sorry, I was so involved in the Danny O’Hern love fest.”
I gave him my best scowl, but he either didn’t see it or ignored it—the idea of either infuriating me. “What motive could one of the boys have for killing Danny?”
“The same motives for any murder—revenge or money.”
“What about a crime of passion?”
He looked at me. “Same as revenge, only with a twist.”
“What about just a random act of violence? That happens all the time. No motive other than needing a few bucks for a fix.”
“There was nothing random about Danny O’Hern’s murder.”
“How do you know that?”
He looked around us, at the empty room. But apparently that wasn’t secluded enough. He took my arm, just above the wrist and pulled me toward an empty hallway that led to offices.
Was I going to get some details? We’d all been going crazy the last few days with knowing—or not knowing—exactly what had happened to Danny that night.
“They knew exactly where to do it. What parking lot didn’t have any kind of security system. That suggests somebody who knows Vegas.”
“So, you think it was somebody who knew the town—that narrows it down,” I said, the sarcasm dripping.
“Or somebody from out of town hiring local talent,” Jack said. “Mr. O’Hern’s car was not at the scene, so he was most likely brought there by the killer. If he was brought there against his will, we probably would have found some signs of struggle on his body; there weren’t any.”
The words brought a chill to me. “Jesus,” I said. It couldn’t have been any more real to me than Danny being in a coffin two rooms away, and yet, this made it seem so…scary.
“I guess…I mean… I got that he was dead, and that he’d been killed, but I guess…”
“You hadn’t thought about someone actually putting the gun to the back of his head and pulling the trigger?”
A vision of sweet Danny with the muzzle of a gun to his head came to my mind and a shudder ran through me. I looked up at Jack. It wasn’t too hard; he was only a couple of inches taller than me.
There was something close to compassion in his eyes. And also…measurement of some sort.
I took a deep breath, put my chin up, and nodded for him to go on.
He studied me for a second, then nodded, like I’d passed some kind of test.
“We’re thinking he knew the killer. Was lulled into a false sense of security. Enough to get into a car with them, anyway.”
“So, you really think it was a friend?” I said, disbelief in my voice.
“Spouses, friends and family come to mind the quickest in all homicides, yes. But…”
I clung to that but. “But?”
He raised a shoulder, a half shrug. “Think of all the people you’d get in a car with. More than just close friends and family, right? I mean, there are business associates, neighbors.”
I thought of the car ride I took ten years ago with Paulie, the one that ended in a hospital stay. “Yes,” I whispered.
He saw that I’d left him, that I was remembering something. He just didn’t know it had nothing to do with Danny.
At least I thought it didn’t.
One of the funeral directors peeked his head down the hallway. “There you are. Miss Dawson, we’re ready for you.”
I nodded, started to move past Jack. He stuck an arm out, stopping me. He leaned into me, but not touching. I could feel the heat, the intensity pouring out of him.
“What are you needed for, Miss Dawson?”
“Anna,” I said, a little more breathily than intended. “I’m
I liked the idea that he’d put some effort into this. For Danny.
“Everybody loving the victim just makes my job harder.”
“You like it when everybody hates the victim?”
“Well, that’s difficult too. Too many suspects.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said.
“Which was? Sorry, I was so involved in the Danny O’Hern love fest.”
I gave him my best scowl, but he either didn’t see it or ignored it—the idea of either infuriating me. “What motive could one of the boys have for killing Danny?”
“The same motives for any murder—revenge or money.”
“What about a crime of passion?”
He looked at me. “Same as revenge, only with a twist.”
“What about just a random act of violence? That happens all the time. No motive other than needing a few bucks for a fix.”
“There was nothing random about Danny O’Hern’s murder.”
“How do you know that?”
He looked around us, at the empty room. But apparently that wasn’t secluded enough. He took my arm, just above the wrist and pulled me toward an empty hallway that led to offices.
Was I going to get some details? We’d all been going crazy the last few days with knowing—or not knowing—exactly what had happened to Danny that night.
“They knew exactly where to do it. What parking lot didn’t have any kind of security system. That suggests somebody who knows Vegas.”
“So, you think it was somebody who knew the town—that narrows it down,” I said, the sarcasm dripping.
“Or somebody from out of town hiring local talent,” Jack said. “Mr. O’Hern’s car was not at the scene, so he was most likely brought there by the killer. If he was brought there against his will, we probably would have found some signs of struggle on his body; there weren’t any.”
The words brought a chill to me. “Jesus,” I said. It couldn’t have been any more real to me than Danny being in a coffin two rooms away, and yet, this made it seem so…scary.
“I guess…I mean… I got that he was dead, and that he’d been killed, but I guess…”
“You hadn’t thought about someone actually putting the gun to the back of his head and pulling the trigger?”
A vision of sweet Danny with the muzzle of a gun to his head came to my mind and a shudder ran through me. I looked up at Jack. It wasn’t too hard; he was only a couple of inches taller than me.
There was something close to compassion in his eyes. And also…measurement of some sort.
I took a deep breath, put my chin up, and nodded for him to go on.
He studied me for a second, then nodded, like I’d passed some kind of test.
“We’re thinking he knew the killer. Was lulled into a false sense of security. Enough to get into a car with them, anyway.”
“So, you really think it was a friend?” I said, disbelief in my voice.
“Spouses, friends and family come to mind the quickest in all homicides, yes. But…”
I clung to that but. “But?”
He raised a shoulder, a half shrug. “Think of all the people you’d get in a car with. More than just close friends and family, right? I mean, there are business associates, neighbors.”
I thought of the car ride I took ten years ago with Paulie, the one that ended in a hospital stay. “Yes,” I whispered.
He saw that I’d left him, that I was remembering something. He just didn’t know it had nothing to do with Danny.
At least I thought it didn’t.
One of the funeral directors peeked his head down the hallway. “There you are. Miss Dawson, we’re ready for you.”
I nodded, started to move past Jack. He stuck an arm out, stopping me. He leaned into me, but not touching. I could feel the heat, the intensity pouring out of him.
“What are you needed for, Miss Dawson?”
“Anna,” I said, a little more breathily than intended. “I’m
Similar Books
