Page 28 of Dead Man's List

Wordlessly they descended the four flights of stairs, the three of them getting into the department car. The mood was heavy as they drove to Jennifer’s sister’s small house, Jennifer and Bran following behind.

Kit stopped Jennifer and Bran when they started to accompany them up to the house. “Wait here on the sidewalk. Please.”

“Fuck,” Connor muttered as he, Sam, and Kit approached the house, and Sam knew exactly what they’d find inside. The stench of death was unmistakable.

Kit gave the house a visual once-over. “How come nobody reported this? They had to have smelled it.”

The neighborhood wasn’t great. Sam imagined that most people minded their own business here.

Connor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose and mouth. “You might want to wait outside, Sam.”

“I’m with you,” Sam said, even though he thought he’d throw up any moment.

Kit shrugged. “Your call. It won’t be pretty.”

Sam looked over his shoulder at Jennifer, who stood with Bran at the bottom of the driveway, a hand clasped over her mouth and horrified tears running down her cheeks. It appeared that they understood the significance of Connor’s handkerchief. “Let’s get this over with. She’s going to need support.”

Kit pulled on a pair of disposable gloves and twisted the door handle. It opened with no resistance, and Sam gagged.

“Fuck,” Connor said once again.

Fuck indeed.

Because lying on the living room floor was a young woman of about nineteen and an older woman who bore a resemblanceto Jennifer Porter. Both had their throats slit, just like Brooks Munro.

“He killed them, too,” Connor said. “Goddammit.”

“I’ll call it in,” Kit said heavily. “Connor, let’s check the house. Whoever did this is probably long gone, but we need to be sure.”

“I’ll see to Jennifer,” Sam said. It was what he knew best. Comfort and support. Jennifer Porter was going to need a lot of both.

San Diego, California

Sunday, January 8, 12:30 p.m.

“Lunch delivery,” Kit said as she dropped the sandwich on Alicia’s desk.

Dr.Alicia Batra looked up at Kit. “You’re turning into your mother, always feeding me.”

Kit grinned, even though her heart hurt. The sound of Jennifer Porter’s sobs still echoed in her mind. She’d heard those sobs before. Sometimes out of her own mouth.

It was a shock, losing someone to a violent murder.

Luckily, Sam had been there. The man had said and done all the right things, making sure that Jennifer and Bran had gotten home safely.

“If I grow up to be Betsy McKittrick, I’ll die happy.”

Unwrapping the sandwich, Alicia gestured to the chair next to her desk. “Where’s Connor?”

“He’ll be up. We were trying to interview the security guard from Munro’s community about the trailer when you called. He wasn’t home, so we have to go back later, plus a million other interviews. Connor’s calling his girlfriend to let her know he won’t be coming home for dinner.”

“Neither am I,” Alicia said dryly. “I now have two more bodies in my morgue. And don’t ask me for their time of death because I haven’t started their exams. I just finished Brooks Munro’s, which was why I called you in.” She paused, frowning. “You okay, hon?”

Kit gave herself a shake, unable to erase the memory of Jennifer’s sobs. “The victims’ relative followed us to the scene. She was…well, you know.”

“I know,” Alicia murmured. “It’s hard when the families come in to identify bodies. I guess I’m lucky in that it doesn’t happen with every exam I have to do.”

“Sam was with us. He was so good with the victims’ family. It left me free to do my job.”