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“Did you say Joel was on his way?”
Her expression faltered. “Yes. You’re going to wait for him?”
Sam almost said, No, I’ll go with you, but then remembered how it had felt when he’d found her in bed with another man. How much it had hurt. He wouldn’t beat himself up for loving her or leaving her. But he wasn’t going to go down that road again.
“It’s for the best. He’s got Siggy at his place. We can get my dog, then he can take me home. Seriously, though, Laura, I do appreciate what you did today.”
“It wasn’t really anything. It would have been okay without me. But better to have representation, just in case.” She took a step back, her gaze a little regretful. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will. You too.”
He watched her go, then realized a uniformed officer stood about a foot behind him.
“I’ll escort you to the lobby,” the cop said.
“Oh, of course. What about my belongings? My laptop and my wallet?”
“They’ll have those up at the front desk. You’ll get them all back. This way, please,” the cop said and Sam followed.
But he felt eyes on him. A look over his shoulder revealed McKittrick standing in the doorway to the interview room, silently watching.
He raised the hand that held the dog treat, then didn’t look back again.
SDPD, San Diego, California
Saturday, April 9, 11:25 a.m.
Baz lifted a brow when Kit came back into the interview room. “What was that?”
She didn’t blink. “What?”
“That smile. And a dog treat?” He made a face. “You carry dog treats in your pockets?”
“Of course I do. Snickerdoodle loves them. And we did scare his dog.”
Baz had the good grace to look a little shamefaced. “I’m sorry about that part. But not the rest.”
“He gave us a killer.”
Baz leaned back in his chair, studying her. “A killer you still seem to doubt. Why?”
She sat on the corner of the table. “Five murders. Why five? Why not six, including Cecilia Sheppard? Why not ten? Do we think we really found all his victims over the years? That’s taking coincidence to ridiculous levels.”
“Like I said, maybe he didn’t want to admit to all the people he killed.”
“He’s a pathological liar who claims to party with Hollywood stars. I can’t believe he didn’t claim to have killed a hundred people. Or that he showed enough remorse to kill himself.”
Baz grimaced. “Point. But is that your only concern?”
She shrugged fitfully. “I don’t know. It feels... off.”
“He knew about Cecilia,” Baz said, counting on his fingers. “He knew she wore a lilac uniform. He knew about Jaelyn’s grave. He confessed. And for fuck’s sake, he had handcuffs and pink spray paint when we’ve kept that detail from the press. What more do you want to see?”
“I don’t know,” she said and meant it. She didn’t know. That bothered her a whole hell of a lot.
“I’d say we’ve closed this case. And we’ll get credit for catching a serial murderer, Kit. This is a huge feather in your cap this early in your career.” He frowned. “Is this a fear of success?”
She scoffed at the notion. “No. It feels too convenient. Too easy.”
