Chapter Seven
Damien’s blood went cold. He watched Kaz study the picture as if he wanted to rip Eric right from the paper into the room. s**t! Had he been drawn to another crazy weirdo who’d wigged-out on him? It sure was looking that way.
“Kaz,” he said nearly in a whisper, “Are you jealous? Because you don’t have to be. Let me explain.”
Kaz looked up, still wearing that intent expression, but when their eyes met, he softened, obviously realizing Damien’s distress. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm you.” He held up the picture. “This is the last person I questioned before coming back to your house this afternoon,” he said. “He’s a waiter who’d served Nielsen last night before Nielsen went to the Moritz.”
Damien froze. “But that’s impossible. It couldn’t have been Eric.”
“Why not
