Инстинкт Зла. Возрожденная. Марина Суржевская

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СКАЧАТЬ could have frozen his drink with that smile. “Unlike you, I’m not on duty. I’m not diagnosing tonight.”

      “Maybe another time, then.” He reached forward to touch her on the elbow. “I was hoping we could chat for a few minutes.”

      “I really should be getting back to my friend,” Mia said, turning her long neck back from where she’d come.

      “Ten minutes, that’s all.”

      She reached a long, manicured finger to the spot where her ear met her jaw. “I don’t know....”

      Behind them a quartet was playing, and a few couples were turning across the dance floor. Mia gripped her glass with white knuckles, darting her gaze around the room like a frightened animal. In his informal background search, he’d learned she’d suffered anxiety in crowds ever since the attack. It couldn’t make an event like this easy, and he needed her to focus on something other than the crowd.

      He gently took her drink from her hands and set it on the bar, placing his beside it. Her eyes widened. “Hey, wait a minute—”

      “You don’t even like whatever you ordered. Come with me.”

      He took her by one of her cold hands. To his amazement, she went with him. “Where are we going?”

      “I want to dance with you.”

      He wound her through the crowd to the dance floor. “I can’t dance,” she said.

      “Then I’ll teach you.”

      They reached the floor and he turned to face her. She stood in place. “No. I can’t dance.”

      “I’ve seen you walk. You carry yourself like a dancer, so I know you can dance. If you’re saying you don’t know the steps, I’ll teach you.” He took her hand again when she squinted at him, looking unconvinced. “Come on. Give me a cheap thrill.”

      She rolled her eyes, but her facade melted just slightly into a smile. It was a start. “Fine. One dance.”

      A waltz began and they fell naturally into place, chest to chest, his right arm encircling her back, her left hand draping his shoulder. She had a glint in her eyes that he didn’t comment on. He just smiled. He knew she was a dancer.

      They glided across the floor as though they were sliding on glass, he leading and she following with regal grace. Gray had hoped only to relieve some of her anxiety, but now he felt her body turning with his, meeting his direction with fluid movement that left him feeling downright amateur. Not that he minded. He could hardly focus on his pride when someone like Mia was in his arms.

      He dipped her back. “You lied to me,” he whispered against her ear in mock consternation. “You’re good at this.”

      Her eyes didn’t leave his as they came back to standing. “I’m good at a lot of things, Gray.”

      Indeed. His collar tightened.

      They turned around the floor, lost in the music, and her muscles relaxed beneath his fingers. Then Mia drew closer to his ear and said, “What did you mean when you said you wanted to discuss a partnership?”

      Business. It was like glass shattering. “You impressed me last week with your analysis of the murder scene at the Charles.” More than impressed him. The forensic evidence had confirmed her nearly immediate conclusion that the person who’d killed the young woman was a copycat, not Valentine. Then a concerned citizen had reported a large puddle of blood behind a row house in the South End. She’d been right about the gravel, too. Mia knew her stuff, and right now he needed someone who knew Valentine. “You obviously know your way around the Valentine files.”

      “I have reason to.”

      “I know. That’s why I want your help. I want you to look at the Valentine files again and tell me everything you see.”

      “It would take me longer than five minutes.”

      “Five min—?” He stopped. Right. He’d limited her time at the scene last week to five minutes. So she was angry with him for that? He spun her around and dipped her back again. “That was my scene. You’re lucky you even got five minutes.”

      “You’re a real charmer, you know that?” She righted herself. “I told Lieutenant Mathieson everything I thought about the Valentine files, so why don’t you ask him?”

      “Valentine is the key to finding out what happened to your sister, and finding out what happened to her is the key to finding out who assaulted you within an inch of your life last summer.”

      Her grip tightened on his shoulder, and she looked away from him. “You keep saying the incidents are related. Why?”

      “Call it a hunch. A woman disappears, and then a person investigating her crime—her sister—is attacked.” He shrugged. “Don’t think I’m in this just for your benefit. I think someone was trying to shut you up. You must know something damning about Valentine, and I want to know what it is.”

      He’d struck a nerve. She chewed her lower lip. “I don’t remember much. I was in a coma for days. I can’t even tell you why I was by the Charles River that night.”

      As she spoke about the attack, Gray felt her movements stiffen. She became distracted and stepped on his toes. “You think I’m right. You think you might know your attacker. And you think he still wants you dead.” The terror was evident in the way she turned her face to him. Then she stopped dancing, dropping her hands and looking away. “It’s all right,” he continued. “You don’t need to respond.”

      “There’s nothing to respond to.” The proud tilt of her chin told him the shield was back up, the vulnerability concealed. “I answered Officer Langley’s call last week and came to the crime scene, but in hindsight, that was a mistake. I know it wasn’t Lena, and it wasn’t Valentine, but I haven’t slept much since then. I hope you understand if I decline to review those files. I’m too close to the case to be objective.”

      Mia walked off the dance floor and he followed. Gray considered calling her out for using an excuse but then reconsidered. She’d been the victim of a crime, and if she didn’t want to revisit that time, then all the pleading and bargaining and coercion in the world wouldn’t do a damn thing. “Can’t blame me for trying,” he said.

      She didn’t reply but simply nodded. “By the way, I think that officer made a mistake in speaking with that reporter last week. He said that the woman found by the Charles was a victim of a copycat killer.”

      “So? That’s the truth.”

      “You’re dealing with Valentine, who has a significant need to prove his power. When you suggest someone is copying him, you risk flushing him out of hiding.”

      She didn’t know how right she was. “What’s done is done,” he said.

      “I can give you the name of a colleague of mine to help you with the file. He’s very thorough, and he’s helped private citizens review cold cases. He may have some additional insight.”

      Gray shrugged. “Sure, why not? Though it’s not a cold case anymore.”

      That СКАЧАТЬ