Page 69 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“Ex-husband, and unlikely.” Cliff began sawing at his meat with his knife. “They weren’t on the best of terms.”

“Some people don’t get along except in bed.”

“Speaking from experience?” He pronged a slice of steak and took a bite.

“Low blow, Siebert.”

“You’re right. I’m just pissed. Besides, Jerome Marx is sterile. Had himself a vasectomy years ago.”

“How do you know this?”

“Strangest thing. Marx called me up and told me. Didn’t want to share the information with Reed and you can understand that, so I double-checked. Gave the information to Okano. You can probably understand this, Nikki. I could use being on this investigation. If I catch this guy, it would be a real feather in my cap.”

“I suppose,” she said, feeling uneasy. Cliff? Ambitious? Enough to go behind Reed’s back. “Reed doesn’t know?”

“About the vasectomy?” Cliff raised his shoulders. “Don’t think so. Unless Okano told him.” Talking around the food, he added, “Whoever’s behind this Grave Robber case—your name, right?” When she nodded, he actually smiled. “Well, the name’s sticking. Anyway, whoever this creep is, he’s jerking us around. Making the department look foolish. He’s even sending Reed notes and toying with him. Practically laughing in our faces. We need to nail him, and quick.”

“Sending him notes?” she said, her insides turning to water.

Cliff’s head snapped up. “That’s off the record.”

Tonight.

It’s done.

She swallowed hard. Maybe it was nothing…or maybe somehow the killer had zeroed in on her. Heart hammering, she considered telling Cliff.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes…yes…just tired and rattled, you know, because of the tires being slashed.” By the same guy who broke into my house? “I’ve…I’ve had some trouble at my place. The other night someone broke in.”

“And you reported it. Right?” Cliff said.

“Not yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I…um…it’s stupid, but remember years ago, when I thought I had a stalker and I called the police and it turned out to be…nothing…just Corey Sellwood, the kid next door who was just hanging out in my backyard where he met his buddies to smoke weed or drink. Everyone got into trouble and…well…”

“You were a laughingstock.”

“Right. And the kid got into major trouble. I felt like a fool. I liked the boy and to this day he avoids me when we meet on the street.”

“He’s not a kid any longer.”

“But he was just smokin’ and jokin’ and tokin’ and he got into tons of trouble. He never forgave me.” She thought of Corey, a boy with long hair, disturbed blue eyes and a tattoo of barbed wire around one of his biceps. He’d been fourteen at the time, now was closer to twenty-six or twenty-seven. The incident had happened right around the time Andrew had died, when Nikki had been edgy. She’d never lived it down.

“Nonetheless, you report the break-in,” Cliff insisted. “And don’t forget to include the fact that your tires were slashed tonight. It could just tie together, Nikki.” He polished off a bite of steak. “You’re high profile, being the daughter of a judge and all. Now you’ve got your name splashed all over the front page of the Sentinel chasing down the Grave Robber.” He pointed his knife at her. “Take care of business. Report both incidents and anything else that doesn’t seem right.”

“I will.”

“I mean it. Don’t you believe in ‘Better safe than sorry’?”

“Of course. Okay. You’ve made your point,” she said, more nervous than ever. He was right. She knew it. And she knew exactly to whom she’d make the report. Tonight, however, she had to concentrate on the story she was writing.

Stealing a French fry, she asked, “So, how did the victims die?”

“Nu-uh, Nik.” He shook his head.

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