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“There’s a note on the printer,” Baz called and Kit hurried over to see.
“ ‘To whom it may concern,’ ” she read, “ ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve done terrible things. I’ve killed five young women. Five innocents. I could no longer live with myself and knew I’d do it again and again, so I’m taking myself out of the equation. Please tell their parents that I’m sorry.’ ”
“A confession,” Baz said, sounding stunned.
But Kit wasn’t convinced. “Five? What about Cecilia Sheppard? She should have been number six.”
Baz slid the note into an evidence bag. “Maybe he didn’t want to admit to all of his victims. We’ve always thought there were likely more than the bodies we found by accident. Or maybe Cecilia Sheppard was killed by someone else. She was only reported missing. We don’t even know for sure that she’s dead.”
That was technically true, but Kit didn’t think Cecilia was still alive, or that she’d been killed by someone else. The lacrosse and lilac references had been too spot-on. “Why admit to five, then? Why five? Could he know we’d found five victims? Did he know we’d just found Jaelyn’s body in Longview Park? We’ve kept a tight lid on this information. Need-to-know only. Do we have a leak?”
“All good questions,” Baz acknowledged. “Let’s keep looking. We might find answers.”
Frowning, Kit went back to Driscoll’s body, studying it as it lightly swung. “He hit something recently.” His knuckles had abrasions, but they’d started to scab over. “And he dressed up.” He wore a nice shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, along with trousers and a sport jacket. A folded tie peeked out of the jacket pocket, like he’d taken his tie off at some point. “Did he dress up to kill himself or did he go somewhere last night and come home to kill himself?”
Her gaze stopped at his feet. He still wore his shoes.
“Baz, look at his shoes. Sperry Top-Siders.”
“Same as the prints we found at the Longview Park scene.” Baz lifted his eyebrows. “Same as the shoes we found in Dr.Reeves’s closet. Looks to be about the same size, too, but Reeves’s were more worn.”
Kit hunkered down until the shoes were at her eye level. “These are new. Not even broken in. Forensics can tell us which shoe made the print.”
But she knew in her gut that these shoes wouldn’t be a match. Besides, Dr.Reeves had already admitted going to the park to see if there was a grave. He’d left the print.
She rose and began searching the kitchen. “Wallet and keys are here on the counter. If he cooked anything last night, he tidied up afterward.”
“Everything’s tidy,” Baz observed. “Not even a speck of dust on the bookshelves.”
“He doesn’t even have a junk drawer,” she said after opening all the kitchen drawers. She moved on to the cabinets but found nothing of immediate interest, so she went to the bedroom.
And froze at the first dresser drawer she opened.
“Holy fucking shit,” she muttered.
“What?” Baz asked, coming up behind her. Then he whistled softly. “Bingo.”
Six pairs of brand-new handcuffs were piled in the drawer and, beside them, lying on its side, was a can of sparkly pink spray paint.
CHAPTER FIVE
La Jolla, California
Saturday, April 9, 9:45 a.m.
Just a minute,” Kit said as Baz stopped their car at the curb of Dr.Reeves’s boss’s very posh street. They’d left the crime scene to CSU and the ME techs and headed to Dr.Vivian Carlisle’s home to check out the rest of Reeves’s story. “Incoming call from the ME.”
Baz turned to watch her, a frown on his face. “Why?”
She held up a finger and answered, putting it on speaker. “Alicia? I’ve got you on speaker. Baz Constantine is here, too.”
“Good morning.” Alicia Batra was not only one of Kit’s favorite MEs, the woman had become a good friend. “I’m at the scene. My assistant said that you needed to speak to me.”
“Yes. Can you run a tox screen on the victim? I’m specifically interested in any sedatives that would have a short half-life.”
Baz’s brows shot up. “What?”
“Why?” Alicia asked.
