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“It’s me, Red.” The scrambled voice rasped against her ear. “But you already knew that.”
“What do you want?”
“Didn’t your psychic come through for you this time? I guess not. Too bad she slacked off. This one was worth watching.”
“Who was it? Who’s the girl?”
“Let’s just say that your next family get-together is going to be short a member.”
Casey felt as if she was going to vomit. “Tell me who your victim was,” she managed.
“It was obvious she had your blood running through her veins. Feisty little thing. She put up quite a fight. That made the whole experience better. It was the best one yet.”
“You bastard.” Casey had jumped to her feet, gripping the cell phone so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
“Don’t spend too much time grieving, Red. You’re next. Start saying your goodbyes.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Casey stared at the phone for a long moment before turning to Hutch. “It was one of my relatives.”
Hutch rolled off the bed and went directly to her. He gripped her shoulders tightly, calming and steadying her all at once. “Let’s figure out who. We know the victimology. Who in your family is a redheaded female, younger than you—probably late teens to early twenties—most likely living within a reasonable driving distance of here?”
“I have a small family.” Casey was still reeling with shock. “And we never see one another. There was some kind of falling out between my mother, my aunt and my uncle years ago. I don’t even know what it was about. But I never got to know my cousins. And my father has no family at all.”
“Small means less work for us. We’ll go through every family member, estranged or not. Start with the nucleus.”
“There’s me, my brother, my sister and my parents.”
“Kids?”
“My brother and sister-in-law have one—a son. My sister and brother-in-law opted not to have kids.”
“Move on to your aunt and uncle,” Hutch said. “I know you don’t have relationships with them. But let’s review their kids.”
Casey frowned. “My aunt and her husband live in Boston. They have a son and a daughter who live near there, too.”
“Daughter’s age? Description?”
Casey frowned again. “I haven’t seen her since I was in my teens. Her name’s Allison. She’s either a year older or younger than I am. And she’s got short black hair.”
“So if she has kids, they wouldn’t be teenagers.”
“No.” Casey shook her head. “And her brother’s younger than she is. No spouses. No kids.”
“Move on to your uncle.”
“My uncle is the major outcast of the family. He and his wife moved out to Seattle. I think their two daughters live there, too.”
“Daughters?”
“Yes.” A niggling thought popped into Casey’s mind. “My uncle’s the baby of the family, so his kids are a lot younger than I am.”
“How young?”
The color drained from Casey’s face. “College age.”
