Page 87 of Visions in Blood
“It’s one of our suspicions, but until we see the lab results, we won’t have the information we need to determine if it was a knife, vampire, or shifter that killed him.From there we can determine possible motives.But with the sketch of the necklace, it’s a reasonable assumption to suspect Lorenzo.”
He never let go of my hand as time passed, and we stared out to sea.The sun had risen high enough to warm this side of the house, and I let the blanket drop to my waist.
“What else aren’t you telling me?”I glanced at him, and his jaw tightened.“Just get it out.”
“Our leading scenario is that Lorenzo killed Underwood, or more likely had him killed, then left the drawing of the necklace on purpose.”
“As a sign of what happens when you don’t complete a mission.”If I heard the doubt in my voice, I’m sure he had, too.When he didn’t respond, I reconsidered his words.A dawning realization squeezed with an icy grip, and I pulled the blanket back up.“Not a sign of failure but a lure.”
I turned to Devon, and he nodded.
“It was a smart move.Get rid of a risky, too-flashy partner who’s probably overstayed his value, and let the police dig up possible candidates.Then Lorenzo can sweep in and pick them off until he finds the necklace.”
“So now what?”
“Now we go on a trip.”
I snorted.“I’m pretty sure a murder case stays open until someone is caught.”
“We just need to be gone long enough for Sergi to confirm our suspicions.Then we’ll know how to move forward discreetly.Until then…” He fished into his pocket for something, then handed me a small business card.
“Colantha Dupré, New Orleans.”I rubbed the card.Fine linen.Expensive.“My mother gave you this.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think my father is alive?”
He released a long sigh that gave me my answer, but he put it into words anyway.“I don’t know.But I don’t think Willa would have given me this much if it wasn’t going to lead somewhere.”He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.“She really does want what’s best for you.”
My laugh was bitter with all she’d hidden from me.“That doesn’t mean finding my father.”
“Perhaps.But I do believe she wants you to learn how to control your dreams.”
“This could be a dead end.Then what?”
He took the mug from my hand, then knelt in front of me.Like that wouldn’t terrify a person.He wasn’t going to ask me to marry him, so this had to be really bad news.
“Before we leave for New Orleans in the morning, I need to tell you about the woman on the third floor.”
ChapterThirty-Three
We’d movedto my room, and now I sat in front of the fireplace, my chair turned toward the door, Devon in a chair next to me.He ran a hand through his hair and sat back.If I’d expected him to launch into his story, I should have known better.
After he dropped his bombshell on the widow’s walk, neither of us spoke as he led me downstairs.He’d stopped at my door long enough to send a text, then pointed toward the fireplace that still hadn’t been lit.That was okay.I wasn’t cold anymore.I was simmering on a slow boil and was tired of waiting for him to get his thoughts in order.
“Does this have anything to do with the woman who visits the gravesites?Is she one in the same?”
“Her name is Lyra.”
I blinked.“I knew it.”
“You were a stranger in the house, and I couldn’t put her at risk.When the shared dreams began, I could only hope the miracle I’d been searching decades for had simply walked into my life.”
Okay.That was a lot to unload.
“Lyra is my sister.Though many years separate our ages, she’s quite dear to me.She’s my one remaining true blood family.”
Sister.I breathed a sigh of relief as thoughts ofJane Eyreand a crazy wife in the attic flitted through my head.
