Ripper (Hunter #1)(5)

You would be surprised how often kids hide things from their parents that it would be so simple for them to discover if they checked their kid’s Facebook status. No luck with Joanne though. Her Instagram page hadn’t been updated since the week before and then all the smiling pic told me was she’d been studying for a Biology quiz. I needed to go and talk to her roommate. I wished I could say that Liv was wrong and I didn’t have any instincts, but something was telling me that the police were wrong.

Joanne Taylor was in trouble and waiting until tomorrow to get started wasn’t in my nature. Now that I was on the case, I had to get going.

“All right,” I said, pushing myself off the desk. “I need to get over to the SMU campus.”

Liv smiled, seemingly excited at the prospect of my working something more interesting than a rear-end collision. “Do you want some company? I can play Watson to your Holmes.”

I shook my head at the thought. “Sure. Come along and make sure I don’t spook the co-eds. I’m gonna run to the bathroom and then I’ll be good to go.”

Liv pulled her shoulder-length auburn hair out of its sedate ponytail. “I have to call Scott and then I’ll be ready.”

“What are you gonna call him? A douchebag?” I was only half joking. He really was a douchebag.

“Ha ha,” Liv replied, her hand already on the phone.

She dismissed me and I ran down to the nearest bathroom, carrying my version of a handbag. It was big. I’d heard someone call it a messenger bag once, but I’m not sure if there’s a technical term for it. It was where I kept the files I was working on. I also had a notebook, my phone, a bunch of business cards, and my little .38, which I had a permit for. I hadn’t needed to use it yet. So far all my clients had been polite and I was good enough to not get caught when I took pictures of cheaters. I opened the door to the bathroom and headed to the sink. If I was really honest with myself, I would admit I didn’t carry the gun because I was scared a client would get pissed. Deep down, I knew one day my father would show up again and I wanted to be ready.

The cold water felt good on my hands, and I couldn’t quite resist the urge to splash it on my face. I wasn’t wearing much makeup anyway. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to go back into that world I’d never really left behind. My best friend was a witch and I spent a lot of time at this school surrounded by teen werewolves and shifters and even a pre-teen fertility god.

If my dad had any idea what went on at this school…I didn’t even want to think about it. He’d left town ten years ago and I hadn’t seen him since. I needed to stop hearing his footsteps behind me. Liv was right. I needed to come out of hiding. I needed to find a way to forgive myself for that day when I was sixteen.

Not going there. I stared at the face in the mirror, so familiar and yet such a stranger at times. My dark brown hair was in a utilitarian ponytail. When I took it down, it would reach halfway down my back. It wasn’t practical, but I couldn’t bring myself to cut it. It was thick and had a natural wave to it that the humidity wreaked havoc on. I should cut it short, but I liked the way it looked. I liked the way it felt when a man’s hands ran through it. It made me feel feminine and pretty and sometimes it was the only thing that did.

I’m not unattractive. My features are perfectly symmetrical and I have big brown eyes. My mouth is a little on the smallish side. I have a fit body, but I think my boobs are on the small side. I’d had men describe them as a nice handful, but they aren’t as round and lovely as Liv’s.

That was what I needed. If I was going to get through this case, I needed a guy who thought I was hot. It had been a while since I got laid by an actual, real, doesn’t require Double A batteries man. I needed some mind blowingly good sex to take my mind off things. I grimaced at myself in the mirror. I didn’t exactly know anyone who could give me that. I’d tried a few one-night stands with guys I met at the local bar before I realized that drunken men are not the best lovers. I might need to settle for good sex. I needed something more than a one-night stand and less than an actual scary relationship.

“Oh, god,” I heard Olivia say from the doorway. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me and she was shorter than before. She had changed into her beloved Converse. “You’re thinking about getting laid. That’s your ‘I can’t find a decent man’ face.”

I turned. “I didn’t know I have a face for that.”

She nodded seriously. “You do, indeed. You also have a ‘stay out of my business, Liv’ face.”

It was my turn to nod. I was really sure I had that face. “I’m using that one right now.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, a habit she’d had since I met her in tenth grade. “Yeah, that’s probably not happening. I think it’s a good sign that you’re interested in sex again. Come on. Put on your ‘serious PI’ face and let’s go back to college. It’ll be fun. Maybe we can find a hot college boy for you to play with. You’re a mysterious older woman. I bet they’ll go crazy for you.”

I groaned at the thought of Liv pointing out potential boy toys the rest of the afternoon.

But I put on a little lip-gloss before I left anyway.





I turned off Mockingbird onto Ownby Drive while Liv shoved another CD into the player.

“When you get all big time with this gig, I think we should get you a better car,” Liv said as she fiddled with the volume.