Happy Death Day (Lilah Love Book 7) by Lisa Renee Jones

Author:Lisa Renee Jones [Jones, Lisa Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie Patra Publishing
Published: 2022-07-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

By the time I’m at the door of the diner, Jay is by my side. “Hang back,” I indicate, and once we’re inside, Detective Rollins is already flagging me from a booth.

I leave Jay at the door, and Donna, the regular waitress in this joint, scowls at me. She always scowls at me, but her obvious dislike for me doesn’t hold her back. She’s a ballsy bitch who is always shoving things at me I don’t want pumpkin spice lattes during my holiday seasons visits.

Rollins stands when I approach, all gentlemanly and looking sharp in a blue suit. He’s a decent enough looking guy but his prickly pear attitude probably irritates a lot of women.

“All spiffed up for the press, I see,” I comment as we slide into the booth across from each other.

“Looking sharp helps people feel like I have control.”

“Gotta keep up the façade, right?”

Now he’s scowling at me. “I have control, Special Agent.”

“And how many suspects?”

That scowl of his deepens. “None, but not from a lack of effort and strategy.”

Donna sets a coffee with whipped cream and pink sprinkles on top next to me. My brows furrow. “What is this?”

“A Valentine’s kiss. You seem extra bitchy today, so I thought it would help sweeten you up.”

“First, it’s not even February, so this shit is ridiculous. And second, how do you know I’m extra bitchy today? This is the first we’ve spoken.”

“And yet, you’ve proven my point,” she replies. “Try it. It’s good.” She walks away.

Detective Rollins laughs. “Is that how I’m supposed to handle you?”

“By giving me whipped cream and coffee? Yes. Talking shit, well it depends on how much I want to pull my gun that day. Let’s talk about the case.”

“We have a serial killer,” he says, sipping his black coffee. “You don’t have to tell me. I know.”

“You knew before you ever sent me those files. You just didn’t want me involved.”

“We’ve had this conversation already. Been there, done that. We both know why I didn’t call you.”

I scoop whipped cream into my mouth and then sip the coffee, which turns out to be sweet and chocolatey. It’s actually very good, good enough to break my three-cup limit. “How far are you into the interviews? I didn’t see any notes that indicate anything beyond the crime scene data, which didn’t tell me much. No fingerprints. No hair. No fibers. Nothing. The crime scenes were almost a little too clean.”

“As far as interviews go, I’ll send you the notes, but nothing in them helped the case much or we’d have a solid lead, which we do not. And yes, I had the same thought on how clean the crime scenes read. It’s almost as if the killer knows law enforcement.”

“I assume you’ve figured out the victims all live close to campus?”

His eyes register surprise. “We have. I’m surprised you had time to figure that out.”

In other words, he left a lot out of his files that he could have given me. “Have you looked

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