Page 76 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

Biting her lower lip, she replied, sending an E-mail asking for the sender to respond and identify himself. It bounced back nearly immediately. She printed out the E-mail, making two copies and on the second one, cutting off the message. Then she searched through the offices until she found Kevin, earphones in place, browsing the vending machines in the lunchroom. He was just punching in his selection when he saw her from the corner of his eyes.

“Don’t tell me, you can’t make the machine work,” he said, his eyes nearly arrogant as they stared down his nose at her. The corners of his lips twisted up slightly, as if he were pleased with himself.

Because he was smarter than she?

Or because he’d expected her to chase him down?

“No. No. The system works fine. But I need a favor,” she said, grateful, for once, that she’d found him alone.

He pulled down his earphones. “Another one?”

A bag of M&M peanuts dropped into the tray. Kevin snagged them up quickly, as if he thought she might snatch them from him.

“Yeah.”

“It’ll cost you,” he said, and flashed a smile that bordered on a leer.

“Oh, right…look!” She handed him the E-mail address. “Can you find out who sent this to me?”

“Maybe.” He scanned the paper, his eyebrows drawing together thoughtfully. “Why?”

“Because it’s important, okay? Someone sent me a strange message and when I tried to reply, the E-mail bounced back.” She handed him the response again, with the message cut out.

“Is it about the serial killer? That Grave Robber guy?”

She didn’t want to lie and hated the fact that she needed Kevin’s help. “Yes. Really.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“It’s your job!”

“I got lots of work to do.”

Frustrated, she stared at him. “What do you want, Kevin?”

He hesitated and she felt her chest tighten. Oh, Lord, he wasn’t going to ask her for a date, was he? Or some kind of kinky sexual favor disguised as a joke?

“What?”

“Credit, okay? You and a lot of people act like I’m useless, or…or that I don’t exist…or that I’m stupid…or that I only got the job because Tom’s my uncle, but the truth of the matter is that you and Trina and Norm and everyone in this damned place need me.” He hooked a thumb at his chest emphatically, the candy rattling in its bag.

“Credit?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay…” she said, still unsure. His anger had flared so quickly, as if it had smoldered for years. “You got it.”

“I mean it, Nikki.” He grabbed the paper from her hands and started reading it. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Fast. This is important.”

His eyes flashed again. “Like I don’t get it? I know that.” Again with the undefinable smile. He left her standing there and she realized that he was the last one who’d used her computer. He knew the system inside and out. He could have sent the E-mail and inserted it between the others…

Oh, for the love of Mary, what was wrong with her? She was seeing everyone as a potential killer these days. She hurried back to her desk and started working up an interview for Reed. This was her shot. She might not get another chance.

CHAPTER 18

“The good Lord don’t like anyone messin’ with graves,” Bea Massey insisted. She was a tiny, stooped black woman with teeth too big for her head. So far, she’d given Morrisette no information that could help the investigation. Nearly blind, she petted a raggedy old mutt who sat at her feet at the kitchen table. “Once a person is laid to rest, he ought to stay that way.”

---