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that might
     help us find the killer? Did you know the victim? Had you ever seen her
     before?”
    Justice
     steepled his fingers as if in thought. “No. Should I know her?”
    â€œNot necessarily, but I have to
     ask.”
    â€œWhat was her
     name?”
    â€œWe haven’t
     identified her yet.” Jean-Paul paused. “How about the cabin? Did you
     recognize it?”
    Justice scoffed. “That shanty could be any one of a hundred tucked in
     the bayou.”
    Jean-Paul pushed on, “Have you received any calls or letters yourself
     that might be related?”
    â€œI would have reported it if I had, Detective.”
    â€œCan you think of any reason the
     killer targeted Miss Berger with the photograph?”
    Justice raised a brow. “She’s a beautiful woman.
     Maybe the killer saw her photo in the magazine and wanted to get her
     attention.”
    â€œYou’re
     probably right,” Jean-Paul admitted, although his gut instinct hinted there
     was more. And that Justice was holding back. Maybe he was the one fixated on her. Maybe he’d
     killed a replica of her to frighten her into his arms.
    â€œHow long have you known Miss
     Berger?” Jean-Paul asked.
    Justice’s hands tightened by his side. A telltale sign that the
     question stirred his anxiety. “A few months.”
    â€œAnd your relationship is…?”
    â€œStrictly business,” Justice said
     with a predatory gleam flashing in his eyes.
    â€œHas she been involved with anyone recently?
     Someone who might want to hurt her?”
    â€œNot that I know of,” Justice said in a curt
     tone.
    â€œYou haven’t
     noticed any strange men hanging around? Maybe outside?”
    â€œNo.” Justice cleared his throat.
     “Well, except for that Reverend Cortain and his religious group. They’re
     harassing us.”
    â€œBy
     protesting the publication of Naked
     Desires? ”
    Justice heaved a sigh. “Yes. That idiot reverend
     is leading the madness. If you ask me, he’s a psycho himself. Maybe you
     should check into him.”
    Jean-Paul made a note to do so. “Has he threatened you or Miss
     Berger?”
    â€œHe sent
     fliers to Britta about his protest rallies, touting some religious bunk
     about us leading others into sin,” Justice admitted with a scowl. “And if
     this murder gets out, he’ll probably accuse our magazine of triggering
     sexually related crimes.”
    â€œWhere were you two nights ago, say around midnight?”
    Justice snapped his head up, his eyes
     seething. “You can’t possibly think that I had something to do with this.
     For God’s sake, I encouraged Britta to report the incident. And like I just
     said, this crime will only be fodder for Cortain’s nonsense.”
    â€œI have to ask so I can eliminate you
     as a suspect.”
    Justice shuffled his day planner. “I…was with a woman. I can give you
     her name if you want. She’ll vouch for me.”
    Jean-Paul indicated a pad on the desk. “I’d
     appreciate that.”
    Justice’s lips thinned into a straight line, but he tore off the
     sheet of paper and shoved it toward Jean-Paul.
    A knock rapped on the door and a skinny, blond kid
     appeared. “Mr. Justice? You wanted to see me?”
    â€œYes, Ralphie. Come in. Detective Dubois from the
     New Orleans Police Department needs to ask you a question.”
    Jean-Paul gave him a once-over.
     Young. Naive. Khakis and a designer shirt with Italian loafers. Green under
     the collar.
    Not a
     murderer.
    The boy
     paled. “Did I do something wrong?”
    Jean-Paul explained about the photo and Ralphie
     collapsed into a chair. “I…I thought Miss Berger seemed upset when she asked
     me about the mail earlier, but she didn’t tell me about the
     picture.”
    â€œWhat did she
     say?” Jean-Paul asked.
    â€œShe wanted to know if I’d seen the