Page 18 of Kiana's Hero

Kiana picked at her food, eating a quarter of her burger and leaving most of her fries untouched.

After Dev had consumed his last fry, he called Swede.

“Hey, Dev,” Hank’s computer guy answered on the first ring. “Glad you called.”

Dev hit the speaker button and turned the volume down so that only he and Kiana could hear the conversation at their table. “You’re on speaker in a restaurant with Kiana and me. Did you find anything?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Swede said. “And it’s not good news.”

Dev glanced across at Kiana.

She gave a quick nod.

“Shoot,” Dev said.

“First off,” Swede began, “the name you gave me did not match the name linked to the credit card.”

Dev held Kiana’s gaze. “We didn’t think it would. Who is the guy who booked Meredith through the escort service?”

“Hugh Thompson,” Swede said. “He owns a chain of dry-cleaning businesses on the California coast. Apparently, he was in Honolulu for a weekend conference of dry cleaners.”

“Anything hinky in his background?” Dev asked.

“No. Just a married man with a wife and two teenage children going to a private school in Los Angeles,” Swede said.

“Think he was capable of kidnapping Meredith O’Neil?” Dev asked.

“I don’t think he’s capable of kidnapping anyone,” Swede said.

“No,” Dev frowned. “Why?”

“Because I ran a scan through the Honolulu police database for the past week and found his name listed.”

“An arrest?” Kiana asked.

“No, ma’am,” Swede responded. “A homicide.”

Kiana gasped. “Committed or victim?”

Swede hesitated for a second, then answered, “Victim.”

Kiana’s face paled.

“A hotel worker found him the morning after his scheduled date with Ms. O’Neil.”

Dev reached across the table for her hand. “Did you dive deep enough for the full report?”

“I did,” Swede said. “He was found in his rental car behind a hotel, a bullet hole through the front windshield and his forehead.”

Kiana slumped over the table, her hand squeezing Dev’s.

“Any sign of a woman in the vehicle with him?” Dev asked.

Kiana squeezed his hand harder, her body shaking.

“The victim was the only one in the vehicle.”

Dev hated asking, but he had to know. “Any other blood in the vehicle belonging to anyone but the dead Mr. Thompson?”

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