Page 9 of Breathe Me In

“Thanks.” As I slid the file from his fingers, his expression made me hesitate. “Anything else?”

“No, I mean, yes, actually,” he said, stumbling on his words. “I was wondering if maybe you’d let me help out.”

“Oh.” I knew Smith was one of the more eager young officers, and I respected that.

He looked worried when I didn’t respond right away. “I love connecting the dots to things, and I’ve got a pretty good eye for detail, so I thought if there’s anything I can do, like grunt work, making copies, et cetera . . . I’d be more than happy to do it. I want as much hands-on experience as I can get. I’d like to make detective someday.”

“You need to be the best cop you can first, Officer Smith.” I smiled. “But yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” I bumped his arm on the way out, then had a thought and stopped myself. “Hey, yeah, maybe there is something.”

His happy, wide-eyed face lit up. “As you know, we can’t find any connection between the two dead girls. If you want to cross-reference all the people who were at the club on both nights of the murders, that would be a huge help.” I had the list already, but I wanted to see what he’d come up with. Fresh eyes on a case were always a smart idea. Couldn’t hurt.

“Of course!” He beamed as I waved him off so I could answer my ringing phone.

“Detective Stone”—I recognized the voice of the owner of the Velvet Nightclub—“it’s Donald Longboard. I was hoping you could come down for a chat.”

“I was just about to do that, sir. I’ll head right over.” I hoped he might have something to tell me. At this point any leads were first priority. As I made my way through the station, I picked up the file again to take with me. I noted the blood work had come back on the bartender. He’d gotten sick the same night Maggie Deloitte, the second victim, was killed. I was surprised to see they had found a small trace of the same mystery substance in his blood work. Whatever it was, it had to be some kind of poison. It wasn’t any kind of street drug. How come he wasn’t dead? Interesting . . .

I hurried outside, slid behind the wheel of my Genesis GV80, and turned onto the street in the club’s direction. It didn’t take me long to arrive.

“Mr. Longboard.” I joined him at the bar top. “Do you have something for me?”

“Nice to see you guys are taking things seriously enough to send two detectives.” I let his words sink in. I wondered if Kennedy had come by after the game. “Well, like I was telling the other detective, my bartender who was working the night of the second murder—” He grimaced. “Guess what his blood work showed.”

“Traces of something unknown. Yes, we know.” I held up the file.

“Yeah, poison.”

“That hasn’t been confirmed. I suppose it’s possible he could somehow have ingested something, and that same something could have been what killed the victim.” I decided to give him that much.

“I see.” He studied my face, and I knew he wanted this storm to be cleared up fast. “I heard a rumor the first woman had traces of it, too, right?”

I wasn’t about to give out any information on the case. I ignored him as I thought.

“Detective Stone, I get this is just a nightclub to you, but it’s my business, and when word gets out women are dying here—”

I finally looked up, and I saw him swallow. I knew that behind that expensive shirt, which no doubt cost half my salary, he was terrified of losing business.

“Where is the bartender now?”

“Resting at home, but he’s willing to help.”

“Call him.”

His face brightened. “I’ll make the call.” He whistled at a busboy to move as he whisked by him. I leaned into the bar and watched while the rest of the staff prepared the place before they opened for the night.

I snatched up one of the menus . . . My eye caught the beer ads on the side. East Dog Brewery and Sea Foam Brew. I wondered who came up with the names. I did recognize Sea Foam Brew. I’d never tried it, but I often noticed cases of it kicking around in the dressing room at the local college where I coached.

“They said you’d be here.” The captain waltzed into the room. I pushed off the counter and went to meet him. “Need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” I looked around at a few people who had stopped to look at us. “What about?”

“Not what, but who. I brought someone with me from the station.” His face twisted as he stepped back and indicated whom he referred to. I saw him steal a quick glance at me as he ran a hand over his face. I knew he would be unsure what my reaction would be as I took in the very fit brunette in tight jeans and a T-shirt with a flannel shirt wrapped around her waist. She stood with her back to me as she spoke to one of the bouncers. “Don’t kill me, Stone,” he breathed.

I stood frozen as I looked at her. I saw her shirt lift when she raised her hands to explain something to the bouncer, and my gaze slipped down her small curves to the bare skin that showed. The guy smiled at her, and she tossed her head back and laughed as she put a camera back into a bag that was slung around her neck. Her long, glossy brown hair tumbled around her midsection.

“Why would I kill . . .” My words faltered when she turned, and her dark eyes found mine. So many things ran through me at once. The box I had tucked deep inside cracked open for a moment, but I shut it down fast. I knew she’d feel uneasy to see me again too. It had been years. Her neck contracted, and she reached for the table next to her. I hated that she was still unbelievably gorgeous. It was as though time had stopped with her.

“Excuse me,” she whispered to the man and headed toward us, shooting daggers at Captain.