The Devil Inside

25: The Devil Inside

She stared straight ahead. "He told me. We had an...interesting exchange."

"Told you when?" Cooper demanded.

"The day before the party." She fiddled absently with the ends of her hair. "At Tom's. He must've followed me there. Said he'd spotted me running around his neighborhood."

Vincent frowned. Whatever bad blood existed between the two of them, even he didn't like the idea of the detective spying on a young girl unawares.

Even if that young girl had claws and teeth.

Cooper analyzed Calla's profile. She was all angles and shadows, her every move calculated. When she turned to face him, she had a dangerous gleam in her eye. "That man is becoming more trouble than he's worth."

"Should we add him to your hit list?" Vincent muttered—rather unhelpfully, given the circumstances.

"Maybe we should," she mused. When Cooper checked his rearview mirror, he found Vincent staring at the back of her head in alarm.

"She's joking," Cooper said, shooting her a warning look that said, let's not push him too far.

Fine, she seemed to say back, rolling her eyes. "Vincent is right."

"About the hit list?"

"About the detective," she hissed. Her calm demeanor cracked. Suddenly, she was a coiled snake, preparing to strike. "It's not just the cemetery or the party. He was at the station, too. The morning we were brought in for questioning, after Venus took her little tumble."

Cooper briefly considered the ramifications of reaching across the seat and throttling her. He probably wouldn't walk away from something like that unscathed. Then again, the sheer satisfaction of getting away with it at all was tempting. "She didn't take a little tumble, you insensitive asshat."

"Oh, boo-hoo." She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder "We need to consider the very real possibility that the detective is—"

"What?" Cooper rose to her bait, exasperated. "Following in his son's footsteps? Come on. Someone would've noticed if a grown ass man was sneaking around the party. There's no way he could've pushed Tom down those stairs."

Calla tensed. "I'm not saying he's directly involved. I don't see how that would be possible. But the timing of it all is rather..." She glanced over her shoulder. Vincent gazed back at her, wary. "Suspicious."

"Okay. So he's onto us." Cooper settled his head back against the seat. "There's not much we can do about that."

"Did Tom ever discuss his asinine theories with the detective?"

Cooper glanced in her direction, but she had only eyes for the boy in the backseat. Vincent bristled at her question, folding his arms across his broad chest. "Why are you asking me?"

"Don't play coy." Her words deceptively soft. "You two were working together for some time. Tom confided in you. Did he ever mention turning to someone else close to the case? Someone desperate, like Detective Michaels?"

Vincent shook his head, adamant. "No. And if he did, he never mentioned anything about it to me."

She watched him for another moment. "And what about you?"

"What about me?" His glare turned scorching.

"You were so very desperate for answers." Calla smiled her empty smile. "Desperate enough to turn to anyone who would have you, I'd wager."