“Okay. Just keep thinking about it,” Rader said. “Something might come to you eventually.”
Fernandez tilted her head and leaned close to him. “They never actually found Peter Covington’s body, did they?” she asked in a low voice. I obviously wasn’t meant to hear her, but right now I was so wired on adrenaline that every sense was working overtime.
Rader frowned. “No,” he whispered. “Why?”
“Just wondering,” she murmured, making a note on the page in front of her. She glanced over at me again. “One more question, Nate. You were stabbed recently, weren’t you?”
Recognition finally dawned on me. No wonder Fernandez looked so familiar. She was one of the detectives who interviewed me after Alexis jammed a knife in my guts several weeks ago.
“Yeah, I was,” I said. “They still haven’t caught the guy who did it.”
“I’m wondering if it was the same person who attacked Alexis tonight.”
I averted my eyes from her gaze. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure it was just a random mugging.”
There was no fucking way I was going to rat Alexis out and admit that she was the one who stabbed me a few weeks ago. That would only complicate the shitty situation even further.
“Maybe. But it would certainly be a coincidence, wouldn’t it?” Fernandez said, brows rising.
“I guess so.”
Rader rose to his feet. “I think we’re done for now,” he said. “Unless there’s anything else you’d like to tell us.”
I squared my jaw and sat up straighter. “I really think it’s the copycat Butcher,” I said. “You need to find him.”
He dipped his chin in a brief nod. “I’ll give you our cards,” he said, fumbling in his front pocket. “If you think of anything else we should know, give us a call.”
There was a knock on the door, and a nurse in dark blue scrubs poked her head inside. “Sorry to disturb you, but I thought you should know,” she said. “Alexis Livingston is awake.”