Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Kat tapped a pen against her chin. “Could be, but that scenario speaks more to a crime of passion. You know, lovers’ spat gets out of hand; she dies; he feels remorse, panics, knows about the kid at home, and makes sure he stays alive until police find him.” More tapping as her gaze moved upward. “No, Reva Keeling’s body was posed. And there were no other injuries, except those made by the murder weapon. I don’t think it was a crime of passion. There was purpose to her death. If it was a fight that ended badly, her body would have been hidden somewhere.”
Sienna nodded. She agreed with Kat’s assessment. And to add to it, Trevor had said his grandma didn’t have any male friends, nor did he recognize the man who’d brought him food.
But if he wasn’t feeding Trevor out of a sense of guilt or responsibility for the fact that the kid was alone and defenseless, then what was his reason? They’d questioned Trevor a little more when they’d first arrived at the station, but he hadn’t been able to offer much. His description of “the man” was vague at best. He was not as old as his grandmom, closer to Kat’s and Sienna’s age, and he had brown hair. Or maybe black. Sienna was tempted to be frustrated by Trevor’s inability to give them any additional details, but the kid wasn’t even six years old, and he was traumatized.
“Forensics found her phone in her bedroom,” Kat said as though reading her mind. “They’re going to put a rush on it, see if anything interesting comes up.”
“Do you think she just forgot her phone at home?”
Kat shrugged. “Probably. If she was getting high on a regular basis, she was probably forgetting a lot of things.”
Like her grandson. For days at a time. And that was before she’d had the excuse of being dead. Sienna picked up the copies of the two notes and glanced over them yet again. They’d followed what leads they could but so far come up with squat. She looked at the photo of the cards that had been left in Reva Keeling’s hand. They meant nothing to her.
What were the suits? Of the cards the victim was holding?
Gavin’s question from the restaurant came back to her. She hadn’t answered him because her phone had rung—and she’d considered herself saved by the bell, both because she didn’t necessarily want to prolong their interaction and because she couldn’t share information from an ongoing investigation. Except . . .
Gavin was good with card games. Some—like probably his fan club—would argue there was no one better. They needed an expert in areas neither she nor Kat was an expert in. Maybe Gavin could shed some light, if there was any light to be shed. Sure, okay, she didn’t exactly relish the idea of seeing Gavin Decker again, but if it meant solving a woman’s murder and obtaining justice for an orphaned little boy, Sienna was mature enough to deal with it.
“Kat?” Kat looked up from the paperwork she’d gone back to. “What do you think about asking Gavin Decker to consult on this case?” The look on Kat’s face registered surprise, and Sienna understood why. She’d recently expressed interest in Gavin living a miserable life of poverty and shame in a van down by a river. “I could stop by his office in the morning. He might see something we don’t in the hand of cards Reva Keeling was posed with,” she said. “He might even see something in this letter.” She held it up and gave it a slight shake. “I don’t know,” she went on. “I just have a feeling we’re missing something. And he’s extremely suited to provide insight we might be overlooking or not equipped to see.” Not only had he been a professional poker player, but he was in security. And he’d been in the military prior to that, which must mean he had a security clearance.
“We’d have to get sign-off from Ingrid, but I think it’s a decent idea. Especially since all we’re doing is waiting for a lead to materialize.”
Sienna stood, steeling her spine—more for herself than to prepare for her boss’s response—and headed toward Ingrid’s office.
CHAPTER NINE
“Gavin? There’s a detective here to see you,” Stef said through the phone speaker.
His hand paused and then took up again, finishing the signature he’d just been putting on the paperwork in front of him. “Detective Sienna Walker,” Stef clarified, and Gavin let out the breath that he’d held momentarily, annoyed with himself at the reaction.
Get a grip. It’s been eleven years. She has someone in her life. And she’s likely here on business. “Send her right in,” he said. Gavin stood and opened his door, waiting as Sienna rounded the corner from Stef’s desk just a short distance around the bend.