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Which didn't mean she was guilty, but it was yet another pointer that the investigation was probably headed in the right direction.
I shoved the pictures into my pocket and headed out. The parents of the third murdered woman weren't home, so I went to the address of the first victim. And wondered if Kye would turn up, given these people were supposedly his friends. Or was that just another lie he'd spun?
Their home was a nondescript red-brick house that was surrounded by other nondescript red-brick houses. Fading roses littered the front garden and pencil pines lined the side boundaries, providing the illusion of privacy.
As I walked up the cracked concrete path to the front door, the blinds twitched aside and a freckled face briefly peeked out. It definitely wasn't the face of a parent-more like a younger brother.
I stopped on the porch and pressed the doorbell. The buzzer rang harshly and footsteps echoed, coming from the room where the blinds had twitched.
"What?" a surly voice said, without the door being opened.
"Riley Jenson, from the Directorate," I said. "I need to talk to your parents."
"They ain't here."
"Where are they, then?"
"Why do you want to know?"
I bit down on my impatience, trying to remember he was probably little more than thirteen or fourteen and alone in the house. Technically, he was doing the right thing-although the standard security screen door and the old wooden door behind it wouldn't have stopped many nonhumans if they really wanted to get into the house.
"I'm investigating your sister's death, and I need to ask them some questions."
"What type of questions?"
Okay, so this kid was seriously annoying, whether or not he was doing the right thing. "I'd really prefer not to be talking to two doors. Open the wooden door."
"You going to show me your ID?"
"I will." I grabbed my ID from my pocket and slapped it against the metal mesh. "You going to tell me your name?"
There was a pause, then the main door creaked open. The kid was thin and gangly, with a thatch of carrot-red hair and blue eyes to go with the freckles I'd briefly glimpsed earlier.
"It's Josh." His eyes widened as he studied the ID. "You're a guardian? I thought only vampires were guardians."
"I'm part of a new daytime squad." I shoved the badge away. "What time will your parents be home?"
He shrugged. "Mom in an hour or so, Dad after six. They won't be able to tell you much, though."
"And why is that?"
"Because Amy and them never talked. She was supposed to be moving out next week, in fact."
"Who was she moving out with?"
"Some dumb guy she lurved."
I raised my eyebrows. "You don't believe in love?"
"Not when all she talked about was banging the guy."
I grinned. "Did she talk about anything else other than sex with her hot guy?"
"Not really." He shrugged as he said it, but his gaze flicked away from mine and heat crept into his cheeks.
"It's really important to tell me if you do know anything," I said softly, "It might just be the difference between catching her killer and not."
He didn't say anything for several seconds, nor would he meet my gaze. "I promised Amy I wouldn't tell anyone."
