Free Killer Takes All by Erica Spindler Page B

detective.”

    “No,” she corrected, “he assumed I was. His housekeeper, actually.”

    “Which was exactly what you wanted.”

    She didn’t deny it. “Last time I checked, that wasn’t against the law. Unless law here in Louisiana is a lot different than in Texas.”

    “I could haul you in and charge you with obstruction.”

    “But you won’t. Look…” She stood so she could stand nose to nose with him. “You could take me in, keep me for a few hours, give me a hard time. But at the end of the day you wouldn’t arrest me because it wouldn’t stick.”

    “She’s got a point, Slick,” Tony said. He shifted his focus to her. “Here’s the deal, Stacy. Can’t have you questioning potential suspects before we do. We need to get ’em cold, so we can gauge their reactions to our questions. You know this, you were a cop. You know we can’t have you leading a witness. Putting thoughts in their heads that weren’t there before. It taints their testimony. I’d define that as obstruction.”

    “I can help,” she said. “And you know it.”

    “You don’t have a badge. You’re out of it. Sorry.”

    She wouldn’t be dissuaded. Not until she felt certain the investigation was on solid footing. But she wasn’t about to let them know that. “Consider me a source, then. Like a snitch.”

    Tony nodded, expression pleased. “Good. You get a lead, you pass it to us. I have absolutely no problem with that. You, Slick?”

    Stacy cut her eyes to the younger detective. He wasn’t falling for her submissive routine. Smarter than the average bear, after all.

    “No problem with that,” he said, not looking at his partner.

    “Glad that’s settled.” The older cop rubbed his hands together. “So, what do they have here that’s good?”

    “I’m particularly fond of the cappuccinos, but it’s all good.”

    “I think I’ll try one of those frozen thingies that all the teenagers are drinking. Want anything?”

    Spencer shook his head, still not taking his gaze from Stacy.

    “What?” she asked as Tony walked away.

    “Why are you doing this?”

    “I told you why. At the memorial service.”

    “It’s not smart, Stacy. Involving yourself in this investigation. You’re not a cop anymore. You were first to the scene. You very well may have been the last person to see Cassie Finch alive.”

    “Surely not the last. That would make me a murderer. And you and I both know I’m not.”

    “I know no such thing.”

    She made a sound of frustration. “Give me a break, Malone.”

    “I have, Stacy. But the game’s over.” He leaned slightly toward her. “The fact is, I’m the law and you’re not. This is the last time I’ll ask nicely. Stay out of my way. ”

    Stacy watched him walk away, joining his partner just as he took his first sip of the frozen coffee-and-chocolate concoction he’d ordered. She smiled to herself.

    May the best investigator win, fellas.

CHAPTER
14

    Friday, March 4, 2005
10:30 p.m.

    T he Earl K. Long Library stood at the center of the UNO campus, facing the quad. Two hundred thousand square feet and four floors, like most buildings at the university, the library had been built in the 1960s.

    Stacy sat at a table on the fourth floor. The fourth housed the Multimedia Center, which included microfilm and microfiche, video and audio collections. She’d been researching RPGs since she’d left her afternoon class. Tired and hungry, she sported a splitting headache.

    She was loath to go home, anyway. The information she’d uncovered about role-playing games, and White Rabbit in particular, was fascinating.

    And disturbing. Article after article linked role-playing games to suicides, death pacts and even murder. Claims from gamers’ parents of dramatic behavior transformation in their children, of obsession with playing so intense they feared for their children’s mental health. A number of parent groups had formed in the attempt to alert others to the dangers