Page 58 of What She Saw

Did he still mourn Debra? Or was the picture a token of the night? Mementos. Sometimes they linked to sexual stimulation and satisfaction.

I removed the picture from the frame and glanced at the back. Someone had scribbled “1994” in the upper right-hand corner. I took several pictures with my phone before replacing the image in the frame. Using the hem of my T-shirt, I wiped my fingerprints from the frame and glass.

I scratched the dog on the head, left through the front door, and locked it behind me. I moved across the lot. As I sat in my car, my phone rang. Grant’s name flashed on the screen. His timing was unsettling.

“Hello, Grant.”

“Sloane. What are you up to?”

I started the car’s engine. “Breaking and entering. How about you?”

He chuckled. “Really?”

“Of course.”

“Breaking and entering and I guess trespassing, too. Any other infractions?”

I laughed. “A few. Why the call?”

“I read your article. I called Bob Watson and congratulated him on the arrest. He speaks well of you.”

“How’s Bob? I like him.” I had a genuine affection for a cop who never gave up.

“Doing well. Sends his regards. Find anything against Colton?”

I glanced up at Kevin’s apartment building. “Still trying to figure out if a second person was involved.”

“If you had to bet on that?”

“I’d say yes.”

“How about dinner?” he asked.

Kevin’s truck pulled into the parking lot. He parked in front of his unit. Out of the truck, he moved to the bank of post office boxes. He grabbed his mail and trotted to his apartment. Seconds later he appeared with his dog. The dog walked at his side, staying in step with Kevin. His tail wasn’t wagging. Kevin liked discipline more than the dog did.

Kevin couldn’t have noticed the magazines or missing meat yet. I wished I could be around to see the confusion on his face. “I can always eat,” I said.

“Meet me in town at the Bistro at seven.”

As Kevin vanished back into his building with the dog, I put my Jeep in drive. The wheels rolled, and I angled the car toward the exit.

“How are you doing?” Grant asked.

His concern was perplexing. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“One of the victims was your mother.”

I pulled off the road and into a small parking lot. A glance in the rearview mirror told me no one was behind me. “I’m dealing just fine.”

“I used to say that when I worked a tough case.”

“I suspect you’re nicer than me,” I said.

He chuckled. “See you at seven?”

“Looking forward to it.” I hung up and tossed the phone in my console.

Behind me an engine rumbled. My rearview mirror caught Kevin’s truck roaring down the road. I switched on my dash cam and then ducked down until I heard his car whoosh past. I counted to three and then rose. Jeep in gear, I drove. And when his truck crested a hill, I hung back, far enough away not to be seen and close enough to catch the top of his cab on each hill.