Page 23 of Dead Man's List
“Smart,” Connor murmured. “What a sleazebag Munro was. We need to ask CSU to check for microphones and recording equipment.”
“Yes,” Kit said with a sigh, “because we have interviews to do.” She gestured to the whiteboard. “So many interviews.”
“What time should I meet you tomorrow for these interviews?” Sam asked, half expecting Kit to have changed her mind.
“Meet us here at seven a.m. First stop is David Norton. I want to be at the front door of his house by eight.”
Sam nodded once. “I’ll be here.”
Linda Vista, San Diego, California
Sunday, January 8, 8:00 a.m.
Kit got out of the department car, closing the door quietly. No need to wake up people who had the luxury of sleeping in. Sam got out of the passenger seat and Connor emerged from the back, grumbling that he hadn’t had enough beauty sleep.
David Norton, the owner of the landscaping company, lived in a two-story house in a tidy, quiet middle-class neighborhood. A trailer was parked in his driveway, the graphics identical to the one that had likely been carrying Munro’s Ferrari. The trailer was only about half the size, though.
“Hopefully he has a good explanation for why his company’s trailer was at Munro’s house all day on Wednesday,” Kit said. “I’d like to cross a few names off our list today. Let’s go.”
Once they were on the front porch, she knocked at the door, then stood back to wait.
The door was opened by a boy, maybe six or seven years old. He was missing three of his front teeth. “My parents don’t want to buy anything.” He looked over his shoulder, then leaned closer. “Unless it’s Girl Scout cookies. Mom’ll let me have those as long as we don’t tell Dad.”
Kit cleared her throat to hide a laugh. “Sorry. Not selling anything good like that. Can you call your mom or dad?”
His lip stuck out in a pout as he walked back into the house, leaving the door wide open. “Mom!” he yelled. “Some lady’s selling something that’s not cookies.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. David! Come and watch the sausage. I gotta get rid of whoever’s at the door.” A forty-something woman approached, her eyes widening as she took in the three people on her doorstep. “Can I help you?” she asked warily.
This would be Carla Norton, David’s wife. They’d done a records check before leaving the precinct that morning. No outstanding tickets and neither had any registered firearms.
Kit produced her badge. “I’m Detective McKittrick, San Diego PD. These are my colleagues, Detective Robinson and Dr.Reeves. We’d like to speak to you and your husband. It’s important.”
Carla’s back went ramrod straight as the color drained from her face. “Who’s dead?” she demanded in a whisper. “Davy or Danny?”
Kit blinked, caught unprepared. “Um, neither, ma’am. Not to my knowledge, anyway.”
She sagged. “Oh God. I thought you were here to—” She shook her head. “Come in.” She led them to a living room. “Please sit down. I’ll get my husband.” She turned but paused. “You’re not here about my sons?”
“No, ma’am,” Sam said kindly. “Are they missing?”
She nodded jerkily. “Ran away a month ago. I keep expecting…” She forced a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Kit eyed Sam as they sat on the sofa while Connor took a wingback chair. “Have you seen them?” she asked Sam softly. “At New Horizons? Or heard their names?”
“I don’t think so, but kids often give fake names. I’ll ask around later to see if any of the other kids have seen them.” His smile was sad. “Poor mama.”
The mother in question reentered the room, followed by her husband, a tall man who, according to his driver’s license information, was forty-nine. His expression was closed as the two sat on a love seat. “What’s this about?” David asked, his tone harsh.
“We’re homicide detectives, sir,” Connor said. “We’re investigating the murder of Brooks Munro and we’re hoping you can help us.”
David Norton frowned. “Brooks Munro the councilman? He’s dead? Are you sure?”
Oh yes.Kit thought about the gaping maw that had been Munro’s throat.Very sure.“He is,” she confirmed. “When did you last see him?”
David stared at them. “I haven’t. I don’t know why you’re here.”
“He’s one of your customers, isn’t he?” Connor asked.
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