Closer Than Blood

called Tori “old girl,” because they were the same age. Before she could rephrase, Parker answered.

“She’s hot,” he said. Josh nodded.

“Yeah, she is. Nice rack.”

“Are you involved with Tori, Parker?” Kendall asked.

“You mean, am I screwing her?”

“I guess if you want to put it that way.”

“It isn’t like that. And even if it was, it’s none of your business.”

“Tell us,” Kendall said, gently.

“We want to understand.”

“You could never understand.” For a second, Josh seemed to warm up to Kendall’s soft touch.

“Try us.”

“Have you ever really been loved? Do you know what it is to find your soul mate?” He looked at Josh.

“You’ve been around. Bet you haven’t got a clue. All tough, you are.” Josh suppressed a grin.

“I’ve married three of my soul mates,” he said, as dispassionately as possible.

“Am looking for my fourth.”

“I knew you wouldn’t get it.” He turned his attention to Kendall.

“How about you, Detective Stark?”

“We’re here to talk about you, Parker,” she said.

“Not whether or not we have found our soul mates.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“No, Parker, you’re not.” Parker got up.

“Mom, I don’t want to talk to them anymore. I want a lawyer. I want them out of our house.” Kendall noticed a flash of red on the boy’s wallet as it peeked from his hip pocket. She looked over at Parker, then back at Josh. The two detectives excused themselves and went into the kitchen.

“We need a warrant,” Kendall said.

“Call it in.” Josh retrieved his phone and started for the door to make the call in private.

“Calling now,” he said.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Port Orchard

“Look, Josh. She’s a black widow,” Kendall said as the two Kitsap County detectives huddled in her office, waiting on the search warrant for the Connelly place. Josh opened his mouth wide and tipped back the bag of Bugles he’d bought from the vending machine in the break room. Apparently, he didn’t want to miss one crumb.

“She’s killed two husbands and a boyfriend,” she said. He wadded the bag and tossed it into the trash behind Kendall.

“Nothing but net,” he said.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah. But I’m not hearing anything new. Although, if she’s anything like her photo in the paper, Tori Connelly is the best-looking femme fatale to come around since Kathleen Turner in Body Heat.”

“I’m not kidding,” Kendall said, getting up from her desk. Even in the tight confines of her office, she found space to pace in front of her partner.

“Think about it. Jason, Alex, and Zach are all dead. The last one to see each of those men alive was Tori.” Josh backed off toward the doorway.

“They’ve nailed Darius What’s-His-Name for the Connelly shooting.”

“I know,” Kendall said, tensing a little.

“I don’t know why they don’t look at the obvious. The totality of her life and what she’s done. She’s not a nice person. She never has been.” Josh held his hand out as if to calm her.

“This is beginning to sound personal, Kendall. Personal never works and you know that.” Kendall knew what he was saying was right, but there was more to this.

“Hear me out one more time.”

“Okay, go.”

“Tori is a user. She’s a master manipulator. She always has been. She likely killed Jason herself—she was the one with the opportunity.”

“Motive?”

“I have some ideas, but consider the idea that she’s amazingly adept at making people—men, specifically—to do her dirty work.”

“Like the Connelly kid.”

“Yes, like Parker. Did you see the way he defended her? He is in love with her. He’d probably do anything to please her.”

“So you like him for the killer of his own father? Darius Fulton’s been arrested for that.”

“Yes, and he’s probably the killer, put up to it by Tori.”

“So you think the kid killed the preacher?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“The reason I think he’s the killer or that she put him up to it?”

“Either or both.” Kendall nodded.

“She wanted Mikey silenced for what he saw on Banner. He probably saw her kill Jason. We might not ever know that for sure. But with all the publicity, it was only a matter of time until Mikey, now a minister, did the right thing.”

“Maybe. What else?”

“Remember the red tape?”

“Sure. It’s our biggest traceable piece of evidence.”

“Parker had a duct-tape wallet.”

“A what?”

“Kids make wallets, clothes, belts—all sorts of stuff—out of duct tape.”

“Sounds dumb.” Kendall shrugged.

“Dumb, maybe. But Parker’s wallet was a duct-tape wallet. I saw it tonight. It was trimmed in red tape.”

“Interesting,” he said, “but just interesting. Nothing concrete.”

“What about the dead guy in Hawaii?”

“She must have had help there, too. They just missed it.”

“Sounds like you really dislike her and you want to nail her for personal reasons. You don’t care what I think, but that’s how I feel, Kendall.”

After Josh left, Kendall closed her office door. It was personal, but not for the reasons he’d presumed. Kendall wanted the truth. She felt that Mary Reed deserved it. Lainie did. They all did. She sat down and looked at the bulletin board in her windowless office. The answer was staring her in the face. A postcard Barbara in Records had sent to Kendall from her vacation to Hawaii. The answer was in Hawaii. Kendall got online and booked a flight on Alaska Airlines using 45,000 frequent flier miles she and Steven had saved for the past six years. She’d call in sick, lie to her husband about where she was going, and pray to God that whatever she found out would set them all free.

Kendall returned home and packed a single carry-on bag. The one she always took whenever she went on a business trip. She pulled off the tag for SFO, the remnant of her last forensics conference the previous fall.

“Conference came up out of the blue,” Steven said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Kendall didn’t look at him. She just couldn’t.

“I guess. When the other investigator couldn’t make it, I volunteered. Budgets are so tight these days, we’re lucky that we didn’t take a bath on the entire conference.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Her clothes were all lightweight and Steven noticed.

“Hot weather in L.A., I gather.” She nodded.