Page 26 of The Last Close Call

“Oh.” A little line appeared between Joy’s perfectly shaped eyebrows as she looked Rowan over. “You’re not with the burglary unit?”

“Burglary?” Rowan glanced at Jack.

“Detective Garcia told me—”

“I’m sorry. Armando Garcia?” Jack stepped forward. “He’s with our burglary team. Is he helping you with something?”

“Well... yes. My case. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Rowan looked at Jack, who was frowning now.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said.

“So... you’re not here to give me an update about my car break-in?”

“No.” Jack paused. “When was your car burglarized?”

“Last week. My SUV was broken into overnight. Someone stole my iPad and some brand-new Pings.”

“Pings?”

“My husband’s golf clubs. Detective Garcia came out and took the report.”

“I wasn’t aware of it,” Jack said, “but I’m happy to follow up with him on that. We’re here about something else.”

Joy glanced at Rowan.

“Mind if we sit down?” Jack asked.

“No. Please.” She gestured toward the living area. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

Rowan stepped into the cavernous room filled with oversize furniture—all of it white with throw pillows in various shades of blue. Rowan picked the closest sofa. It was too deep to lean back on, so she perched on the edge of a cushion. Jack sat on an armchair and made eye contact with Rowan as Joy bustled around in the kitchen, filling a glass with ice.

A moment later she joined them, trailed by the dogs. They trotted to a pair of beds by the fireplace, and each made a circle before settling down.

Joy lowered herself onto the sofa opposite Rowan and rested a glass of what looked like ice water on her knee.

“So.” She turned to Jack with an expectant look. “What is this about?”

“I’m investigating a series of cold cases,” Jack said, “and your name came up in the investigation.”

“My name?” She looked from Jack to Rowan. “What kind of cold cases?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the details,” Jack said.

Her posture stiffened, and Rowan felt the tension ramping up in the room.

“We recovered DNA from one of the crime scenes,” Jack continued. “And we have reason to believe it may have come from a relative of yours.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Of mine?”

“That’s correct.”

She leaned forward. “An Austin crime scene? You’re with APD, so am I to assume—”

“Yes, Austin.”

She looked flustered now. “But... how did you—”

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