“I guess.”
“And grab Greg one too. He says you owe him for pissing off the detective in charge then disappearing.”
“How did I piss him off? The guy ran his case his way. I did nothing.”
“Except rub his nose in the fact that he should have shifted focusto the witnesses.” Jenn chuckled. “Greg told me Grimshaw somehow got wind of the altercation.”
“Altercation? I just told the guy what he needed to know.” Jane bit back a groan. She’djusthad a decent sit-down with her boss. “I didn’t rub anything anywhere.”
“Greg said the detective was more annoyed with your tone.”
“I’ll give him tone.”
Jenn laughed. “We’ll be waiting on lunch.”
As Jane circled to grab their food, she reviewed her words to the clueless detective who should have looked deeper than the surface. Tone? Was telling the truth now the same as having an attitude?
She came to the realization that she didn’t care. She’d helped with his case then left him to it. If he had a problem with that, that was his business. She had more important things to worry about.
Like August Kaminski and this Rook character.
Just what had Matthew found out?
* * *
At 15:00on Wednesday afternoon at a lovely home in the Denny-Blaine neighborhood, Jane stood back so the forensic techs could finish processing the scene in the dining room.
The five-thousand square foot home sat across from Lake Washington. The dining room had two sets of French doors on one wall, overlooking a rectangular pool that put her in mind of the clear waters of the Caribbean.
Herringbone-patterned patio tiles made a path bordered by Japanese sweet grass, bamboo, and an abundance of poppies, painted daisies, black-eyed Susans, and other plants Jane couldn’t identify. The flowers mingled in an artful array and accented the back courtyard. A private spot of paradise in the affluent neighborhood. Just across the street, the lake beckoned with glittering water under a smiling sun and gorgeous, cloud-free sky.
The family, centered around the table, had dead eyes only for each other.
The glass doors in the room remained closed, sealing the deceased inside with cold air blowing through the vents. The scent of death seeped into everything.
The air conditioner kept everyone uncomfortably cool. Even the poor maid, who’d been diced into pieces in the kitchen, her body cubed as if an appetizer for the murder that followed.
Jane thought about the description and shook her head. No, not an appetizer.
Dessert.
She studied the family. The boy had stumps where his feet should be, pools of blood under his chair. Streaks led from his seat at the table to the stairs and up to the second floor.
The killer had cut out the girl’s tongue before slicing into her neck. She’d bled out at the table, much of it collected in a large soup bowl on top of her plate. The father was missing hunks of flesh, his ears, and several fingers and toes. A mess had been found in his study, along with intestines that likely belonged to his wife. In addition to the single stab wound to the wife’s chest, she had a gaping wound across her abdomen.
The dog remained missing, like in the other two cases. This time, however, Jane knew where to find it. A small urn labeled “Cookie” and a pile of ash sat by a dog bowl on the floor.
The entire family together, sharing a last meal.
The dead maid didn’t fit.
Next to Jane, the first detective on the scene fiddled with the booties on her feet. “The neighbor found them today. The wife didn’t meet for their scheduled Wednesday brunch,” she repeated, since both Jane and the detective had interviewed the traumatized woman earlier. “But did the killer plan for the neighbor to find her today, or was it a happy coincidence?”
“Although the coroner won’t give an exact time of death yet, he said they’ve been dead for more than twenty-four hours. The otherfamilies died on a Monday. I’m thinking these murders happened Monday as well.” When Jane had been miles away, watching a teenager make a huge mess out of his relationship with his girlfriend.
“Well, the witness seems on the level. She’s still shaken up. I couldn’t get anything more out of her.”
“She said she hadn’t touched anything, right?”
