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A minute later, a large man with gray hair entered the frame, followed by two familiar figures. “That’s Detective McKittrick,” Sam said, “and her partner, Constantine. The gray-haired guy is the lieutenant.”
Ann scowled. “That woman put her hands on you?”
“And her partner threatened Siggy?” Bill growled.
Sam loved his parents. “I think she was just doing her job. I think her partner is a jerk.” Who threatened to shoot a helpless dog? “That’s the mayor and Joel’s boss beside them. Turn it up, please.”
Together they listened to Lieutenant Navarro give his statement. Sam’s breath hitched in his chest when the man stated that several local girls had been victims.
“How many is several?” Ann asked sharply.
“Shh,” Bill hissed.
Sam held his breath when a reporter asked how they’d identified Colton Driscoll, then let it out when the lieutenant said they’d had a confidential informant.
He didn’t fool himself into thinking that was the end of it, though. That was a tidbit too juicy to ignore. The reporters would dig. That Sam had been hauled into the police station would soon be common knowledge. He’d have to call Vivian and begin whatever preemptive damage control was possible.
When the mayor and the DA finished speaking, the five people on the platform stepped down and filed out. McKittrick and Constantine hadn’t said a word, maintaining stony expressions throughout. It must be a cop thing.
“You’d think those two detectives would look happier,” Bill mused. “This is a big deal for them. They looked like they were marching to a firing squad.”
“I don’t think McKittrick cares for the limelight,” Sam said, remembering the video interview he’d watched. “I think that look is Constantine’s default face.”
“She looks... small,” Ann observed. “How ever did she knock you down?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Oh, hush.” She met his eyes. “I’m proud of you, Sammy. That man won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”
“He pretty much solved that problem on his own, by killing himself.” That bothered him, though. Not that the young women of San Diego were safer now, because that was huge. Not even that Colton had killed himself.
The timing bothered him. A lot. Why had Colton hanged himself this morning? Had he known the police were onto him? If he had known, how?
Did he revisit the park and see that the grave had been dug up?
Did he know that I was the one who reported him?
But Sam hadn’t given McKittrick Colton’s name until dawn. She’d said time of death was between three and seven a.m., so Colton had killed himself before Sam had given his name, or right about the same time.
My information had nothing to do with his decision. Unless Sam’s line of questioning during their session had caused him to fear being caught. And if that’s the case, did I even need to call the police?
“Sam?”
He looked up at his mother’s gentle tone. “Yeah?”
“Your father and I are proud of you, son. You did the right thing when it wasn’t the easy thing. It doesn’t matter that the bastard who killed several girls killed himself first. They would have arrested him and taken him off the street. Driscoll just saved them the trouble.”
“And the taxpayers the expense of keeping him in prison.” Bill frowned. “Don’t tell me that you feel sorry for him.”
“No. I really don’t. It’s just... this has been a lot to absorb.”
“I know.” Then her eyes narrowed speculatively. Sam never liked that expression. His mother was too good at reading him. “You seem to have forgiven the lady detective, though.”
“She was nice to Siggy.”
“She’s not bad looking,” Bill put in. “If you like women that can knock you down.”
Sam had to laugh. “Well, I don’t.”
