And then there was a picture of April Sanders standing at a bus stop.
Jane gasped, though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.
“It’s the first victim.” She’d only seen the crime scene photos. Seeing her alive and laughing in photographs was disturbing.
Valentine had a connection with the girl—he’d been a regular at the diner where she worked. It’s what led the police to hone in on him as a suspect. Although she hadn’t realized he’d taken photos of her. Valentine hadn’t mentioned the pictures to the police, and they hadn’t searched this property, so they hadn’t been turned over.
“Yes, it is. Keep going.” While she couldn’t see Valentine behind her, she could sense him, watching her, waiting for a reaction.
Jane slowly turned the plastic picture hanger. More casual images—April smoking a cigarette outside the diner, sitting on a park bench with a book. She wasn’t looking at the camera directly.
Had she been unaware the photographs were being taken? Had Oscar been stalking her?
“You took all of these?”
“I did.”
And then she saw April in a porcelain bathtub, blood spilling from her wrists, head lolling on the back of the tub—it was obvious, she was minutes from death.
It was the kind of picture only her murderer could’ve taken.
Chapter Four
“Jane ain’t gonna date a murderer, so drop it.”
“Right, because women, as a rule, hate the whole bad boy thing.”
Byron gave his friend and mentor, Dixon Wolf, a dirty glare, then poured himself another glass of moonshine and downed it in one gulp. All the alcohol in the world wouldn’t drown out Dix, though.
After Jasper, Reb, and Ten left, he’d been looking forward to some peace and quiet until Jane arrived—no such luck. They’d overheard him invite her over and blabbed to Dix, who fancied himself a matchmaker.
Dix served as Negotiator for the Dixie Mafia, which meant he mitigated conflicts between members and reported directly to Tucker Cobb. The roles of Underboss and Negotiator had roughly the same amount of power.
“It ain’t your business.” Byron planned on having a fun fling with Jane, nothing more. When it came to women, he kept things light.
“Too bad. I’m makin’ it my business since you’re so bull-headed.” Dix sat down across from him. He was a tall man with thick, dark brown hair bracketed by streaks of silver. A dense layer of stubble coated his cheeks and chin, but it wasn’t quite a beard. “I’m gonna give you some advice, the way you did for me when I fucked up with Belle.”
Belle Nunn had been Dix’s mistress up until a few weeks ago. Now, they were a bonafide couple. When Dix had been pining for Belle after the fool had gone and broken up with her, Byron had straightened Dix’s ass out—for his own selfish reasons. A broken heart had brought out Dix’s inner bastard, and Byron was sick of dealing with his cranky ass.
Byron thought love was a hot mess, but it seemed to agree with Dix. He hadn’t seen the man so happy in years, not since before his former wife died of cancer.
“Don’t need your advice.”
“Of course, you do. I like Jane, but she ain’t good with people. Meanin’, you’re gonna have to coax her into a relationship.”
“Only thing I’m coaxin’ her into is my bed, so butt outta my sex life.” Byron slammed another shot.
Although he said the words, there was something special about Jane. He’d never worked this hard to get a woman’s interest.
“It could be more than sex. I’ve seen the way you watch her. Mark my words, you’re gonna marry that woman.”
Byron groaned. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.” What is it about people in love? Like they’d all joined a cult and were desperate for new followers.
“Tell me why you refuse to ask for more.”
Aw, hell. No sense in pussyfootin’ around. Dix wouldn’t stop until he’d dragged it out of him anyway.
“Why do ya think?” He raised a brow.
When Dix joined the outfit, Buckley was Underboss, so he’d seen the man in action. Byron considered Dix a friend and a mentor, which was saying something. He didn’t have many of those, especially these days, so he felt comfortable being upfront about the situation.
“You ain’t your daddy.”
“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.” Byron had fought hard to become his own man—a kinder, gentler sort of monster, but he could never quite escape the bastard. “Love made him crazy.”
“Naw. Buckley was a heartless prick who saw your momma as a possession, not a person. You got better sense.”