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But what the hell did the new hotshot DDA have to do with it?
Kerri made her way into the stockroom. The evidence techs were already doing their thing. Falco and the ME hovered near the bodies. Other than the two vics, this back portion of the building held what one would expect. Supplies for the store as well as a walk-in humidor. The first she’d seen. There was an employee area near the rear exit. Thelockers McGill mentioned and a long coatrack that extended from the lockers to the door of the restroom for employees. A narrow row of well-stocked shelving separated the area from the rest of the space. A round table with chairs—two of which had been used to secure the victims—stood in one corner. The employee break area, she supposed.
Moore glanced up from his examination of Leo Kurtz. “Detective, long time no see.”
Kerri smiled. “I took a vacation with my daughter during her spring break. The first one I’ve taken in far too long.”
“She called me every day,” Falco added.
Moore laughed. “A truly dedicated detective can never fully let go of work.”
Kerri couldn’t deny that allegation. She’d always found putting work on the back burner more than a little difficult. Moving on to business, she asked, “You have an estimate on time of death?”
Moore’s assistant came through the rear exit with a gurney. Falco had obviously shared the need to be discreet. Hopefully the assistant had moved the vehicle fondly referred to as the meat wagon around back as well. The fewer people who noticed that detail, the better.
“For now, I’m going to say between ten last night and two this morning. I’ll have something more definitive after I’ve done a thorough exam.”
“We’re in the ballpark,” Kerri agreed. “The employee who found the bodies this morning worked until ten thirty last night.”
Moore nodded. “Falco says we’ll need something on these two rather quickly.” He looked to Walsh. “I suppose he’s the reason.”
“He is,” Kerri confirmed.
“The chief will probably be giving you a call,” Falco warned.
Moore chuckled. “I’m confident he will.”
Deep in the pocket of her jacket, Kerri’s cell vibrated. She stepped over to the break area to take the call.
A glance at the screen and recognition flared. Her daughter’s school. Her brain instantly cued a shot of adrenaline and a burst of apprehension. “Devlin,” she said rather than hello.
“Ms.Devlin, this is Joslin Farrington.”
The assistant to the head of the school. Kerri held her breath. “Has something happened to Tori?”
Haunting memories from last year—Amelia’s murder—ripped through Kerri.
“No.” The single syllable sounded oddly uncertain. “She’s not hurt or anything, Ms.Devlin.”
A pause while Kerri’s heart rate raced higher in spite of the news.
“However, we do need you to come to the school as quickly as you can. It’s quite urgent.”
Rather than demand more information, Kerri said, “I’m on my way.”
Heart pounding, head spinning with the possibilities of all the awful things that could happen at school these days—even a posh private one—Kerri jerked her head at Falco, and he joined her near the door between the stockroom and the front retail space.
“What’s up?”
“Tori’s school called. Something’s happened. I have to go. Now.”
“Go,” he urged. “I’ve got this.”
“Thanks.”
“Call me,” he said to her back. “Let me know what’s going on.”
Kerri didn’t take the time to respond. She had to go ... she had to go now.
