Page 89 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“Morrisette,” Reed said.

Cliff Siebert, his expression grave, made a hasty exit from the passenger side. He slid a look in Nikki’s direction, then immediately turned his attention to Reed, who dropped her arm. Cliff’s forehead was creased, his lips pursed. He looked ready to spit nails.

“You call this in?” he demanded, zeroing in on Reed.

Nikki saw the fight brewing and stepped in. “Wait a minute. I called Detective Reed and told him about the break-in.”

“You called him.” Obviously Cliff wasn’t buying it.

“Ms. Gillette has some evidence about the Grave Robber that she’d like to share with us all.” “So, after we’re through here, let’s all go to the station.”

“Hold on, Reed. You’re off the case.” Cliff scowled at the older detective and his lips barely moved

as he added, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Okano will have your badge and your ass.”

From the corner of her eye, Nikki saw Detective Morrisette approach. “Whoa, boys. Enough. Let’s not go off here half-cocked.”

“This is my fault,” Nikki cut in. “I knew Detective Reed had been called up to Dahlonega and was close to one of the victims, so I approached him first. I’ve been leaving messages for Detective Reed ever since this case broke.”

Cliff’s gaze, when he looked at Nikki, was cold as death. “Detective Reed was removed from the case, Ms. Gillette. I assumed, as you’re writing so feverishly about everything there is about the Grave Robber, that you knew that Detective Morrisette was in charge and that I’m assisting her.”

“Listen, Siebert, turn down the testosterone a notch or two, okay?” Morrisette’s multiple earrings caught in the light from the street lamps and her platinum spikes took on a gray-blue hue as another press van pulled into the alley. “Great. More dickhead reporters, present company excluded.” A uniformed officer met the van, keeping the driver and newsman behind the barrier. It was weird being on the other side of the microphone, Nikki thought, strange being the victim rather than a voyeur looking for a story, an angle to make her story the best.

Morrisette was still reaming out Reed and Siebert. “…so I don’t give a flying fuck who did the calling or responding on this. It just doesn’t matter. So let’s just get to work and figure out what’s going on before we have the press crawling up our butts.” She looked from Siebert to Reed. “Let’s go.” She was already starting for the gate.

Jaw tight, Cliff Siebert was only one step behind.

“Ms. Gillette said her apartment was broken into the other night. Whoever did it left a note with a poem. Looks like it’s from the Grave Robber,” Reed said.

“Holy shit.” Only one step from the stairs, Morrisette stopped dead in her tracks and spun on the heels of her snakeskin boots. “I assume you brought it.”

“She gave it to me,” Reed said. “I thought we’d take it down to the station and compare it to the other notes.” He must’ve seen Cliff’s reaction because he added, “And yeah, she does know that the Grave Robber’s been sending us messages, too.”

“Reed,” Morrisette warned.

“Ms. Gillette’s agreed not to print any of this until such time as the department deems is acceptable.”

“Now you’re making deals? For someone off the case, you sure throw your weight around,” Cliff growled.

“Enough, already.” Morrisette glared at the two men. “Let’s just get this joker. You”—she pointed a finger at Nikki—“stay outside until we ask you in and then be careful where you step. Diane Moses—she’s the lead crime scene investigator—will tell you what you can and cannot touch, and if I were you, I’d do exactly as she says. Got it?”

Nikki nodded. “Got it.”

“And I’d find another place to spend the night.” Morrisette’s gaze swept to Reed’s face, then back to Nikki’s. “Somewhere safe. Maybe with your folks or a friend. Someone you can trust.”

“I already changed my locks,” Nikki protested.

“Not good enough. We might need more time. You can take a few of your belongings. A change of clothes.”

Nikki argued, “Now wait a minute, this is my home.”

“And it was violated once.” Detective Morrisette’s face was without a trace of humor. “Let’s not invite trouble back again. Got it?”

“Okay. Yeah…I got it,” Nikki said, staring up at the turret apartment and feeling a chill. The Grave Robber had been inside her home. The creep who tossed living women into coffins already occupied by decomposing bodies had walked through her tiny rooms, running his hands over her counter and bureau, maybe even lying in her bed, going through her drawers. She shuddered.

Morrisette was right.

She’d stay away tonight.

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