Free Something Wicked: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense by Angela Campbell Page B

right, Zach. Don’t tell Hannah I said anything, okay?” She’d have to call Hannah and let her in on this jewel of a decoy. “You have a birthday coming up in a month, right?” She knew this only because it had been part of Hannah’s argument for finding Dylan. Hannah hadn’t wanted Zach to go another year without mending things with his little brother.
    “Yeah. How do you know that?”
    “Think about it, boss. Your birthday is coming up. Hannah’s being secretive.” Boy, she hoped he took the bait soon. She needed to get him off the phone.
    “She’s doing something for my birthday?” He sounded surprised, and as pleased as a kid on Christmas.
    “Bingo. And she called me last night so we could talk about planning a party. You will deny all knowledge of this. Got that?”
    “Well, yeah. I guess. You guys are really throwing me a party?”
    She rolled her eyes. Men. They could be so easy to manipulate. “Zach, I’ve got to go. Don’t tell Hannah I said anything, okay?”
    He sighed. “Thanks, Alexandra. You’re a good friend.”
    Why did he have to go and say something like that, making her feel as guilty as a loyal pup sitting beside the poo she’d left in her owner’s shoe? Yes, she and Zach had become friends. Kind of. That’s partly why she’d agreed to help Rebecca and Hannah find Dylan, but crap. Now they really were going to have to try to throw him a party.
    Alexandra hated parties.
    A click signaled the door opening behind her, and she spun around quickly, her eyes widening when Dylan stepped into the room, all hot and brooding.
    “Er, thanks, boss. Sorry, but I really gotta run.” She pressed END and stepped forward. “So, are we done for the day or do you have some more things you want to throw at me?”
    Crap. Did she look as nervous as she felt? That had been a close call. Literally.
    Dylan’s gaze moved from the phone in her hand and looked her up and down. “You in a hurry to leave? You meetin’ someone or something?”
    “I sure as hell hope so.” She reached for her jacket and purse and arched a brow at him. “I’ve got a hot date with the drive-through guy at McDonald’s. Or did you forget we skipped lunch?”
    He pushed a hand through the hair at his forehead. “Sorry.”
    She shrugged, because it really wasn’t a big deal. She’d worked with enough cops to know that a few skipped meals were usually the last thing on their minds when working a case like this. She fingered the manila folder on the table. “Could I take a copy of one of the pictures? I’ll bring it back tomorrow. Maybe I can try to get some more impressions of this killer. I don’t know, Dylan. Something about him really scares me.”
    He moved closer, so close that the scent of musk and sandalwood teased her senses. “What do you mean? How does he scare you?”
    She forced herself to focus on the contents of the folder and not on him. He was too distracting. Of all the men in the world, why did this one send her brain to mush with only a glance? “He seems dangerous. I think he enjoys killing, and I think he’ll do it again. Soon. I don’t think he’ll wait another month.”
    His hand stopped hers from lifting the photo from the table. A zing of awareness shot from her fingers up her arm and warmed her in places she hadn’t realized were cold. Their eyes met and held. If he moved just a few inches closer, his mouth would be near enough to—
    “I’ll go make a copy.” His breath was hot against her face.
    She leaned against the table for support after he moved away. A cold shower. That’s what she needed. And a few hours alone, in her hotel room, to get her wits about her again.
    It had been a heck of a day. She deserved a little relaxation time.
    Dylan wandered back in. He had managed to shrug into his jacket in the time he’d been gone. He handed her a paper copy of the photograph. Not ideal, but she could work with it.
    “Why don’t you let me buy you dinner?” His blue eyes had