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The bartender, whose name tag read Rosie, gave her an easy smile. “What can I get you?” she asked.
“Information,” Kit said, returning the smile. Easier to catch flies with honey, after all. She flashed her badge, then produced the photo of Skyler Carville. “I’m Detective McKittrick. Do you remember seeing this woman last Friday night?”
Rosie immediately put down the glasses she was stacking and took the photo, studying it. “Yeah. I saw her. I remember carding her because she looked so young. She was twenty-one, though.”
Skyler would never see twenty-two. “She died that night. I’m trying to retrace her steps.”
Rosie flinched. “Oh my God. How?”
“Homicide. Do you remember if she met someone here?”
The woman frowned, thinking. “No, I don’t. But I can get you the security vids. They’re not the best quality, but you can have a look.”
“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”
Rosie called someone over to cover the bar, then led Kit back to the office, which was filled with boxes of booze and one ancient desk with a newish desktop computer. A few clicks of the keyboard brought up the footage from Friday night. “You can sit here and watch,” Rosie said. “I can’t leave you here alone, but I’ll go over there and do some inventory.”
Kit sat in front of the computer, setting her concentration to the screen, just as she’d done twice already that afternoon. But this time she saw Skyler walk into the bar and look around.
For Sam. Skyler thought she was meeting Sam. Pity sat heavy on Kit’s heart as she watched the young woman take a seat at the bar. There was Rosie on the screen, carding her, just like she’d said.
Minutes passed and Skyler waited. She finished the white wine she’d ordered and was getting up to leave when a man with gray hair slid onto the bar stool next to her.
Kit’s pulse started to beat faster. Same body type as the man in Driscoll’s videos. She couldn’t see his face because the camera was only catching his back. She waited impatiently for him to turn around, but he kept his body turned just right. Kit was about to ask Rosie if there was another camera positioned to catch another angle when the man on the screen gestured for the bartender. A male bartender approached and poured another white wine for Skyler.
Kit saw the moment that Skyler’s killer added powder to her glass. Skyler had turned to look at something and he slid it in so quickly that Kit would have missed it had she not been specifically watching. He’d clearly had a lot of practice drugging his victims.
The minutes passed and Skyler clearly grew disoriented, but not so much that someone would have noticed. The man put his arm around her waist and turned her around toward the door.
Giving Kit a glimpse of his face before he slid on a pair of sunglasses.
For a moment she stared, disbelieving.
Not possible. No.
No, no, no.
She froze the frame, her movements jerky. She couldn’t breathe.
But he doesn’t really have gray hair. He doesn’t really wear glasses.
Her cell phone rang, and she answered automatically, bringing her cell to her ear. Her focus was pinned to the screen, her mind racing along with her heart. “Yeah?”
“It’s Sam. I know who he is. It’s a psychologist here in the city. He works with cops, Kit. His name is Scott. John Scott.”
Her throat closed, betrayal hitting her like a brick as she stared at her therapist’s face, thinking of the secrets she’d revealed to this man. This killer. “I know,” she mumbled numbly. “I found him with Skyler.”
“What?” Sam asked. “I can’t hear you. What did you say about Skyler? Kit?”
His use of her name knocked her brain back into gear. “How did you find him?”
“He was Colton’s prior therapist. His third ex-wife gave us his name and there’s a video interview online. It’s the same living room, Kit.”
Kit forced herself to breathe, aware that Rosie the bartender was watching her, wide-eyed. “Meet me at the station as soon as you can. We need to brief Navarro. Are you with Laura?”
“Yes.”
“Have her call the desk when you arrive. If I’m not back, I’ll have Detective Robinson walk you in. I don’t want you alone at any time.”
