Page 25 of The Killer You Know

“I’m not a fan of these places,” Jack says as we try not to get lost in the white labyrinth of hallways.

“Unless you’re getting paid to be here, most people aren’t.”

“Technically I’m getting paid to be here, but I’d rather sit in the car with Buddy.”

“For Pete’s sake, think of the sandwiches,” I tell him as we continue to hunt for the room number we were given.

We navigate through the corridors, following the directions to Stella Johnson’s room, where we find both sisters waiting for us.

Stella Johnson—forty-five, shot in the upper left thigh. A mild infection set in so they’re pumping her full of antibiotics. And since she has a history of rejecting an entire litany of drugs, they’re keeping an extra eye on her for another day. Jack and I gleaned that on the report the sheriff’s department sent us this morning.

Her sister, Connie Berkley, is forty-nine, grazed by a bullet in the upper left arm. Both women are lucky to be alive.

Either the kidnapper was a lousy shot or never intended to kill them. Most likely both.

We find a dark-haired woman propped up in bed, the yellow hospital gown making her already sallow skin color look pallid.

Next to her sits Connie, short dark hair neatly curled under, full face of makeup, dressed as if she’s on her way to a board meeting. She stands as we enter and offers a kind smile.

“You must be the officers,” she says, shaking our hands without waiting for an introduction.

“Mrs. Johnson, Mrs. Berkley.” I nod to each of them. “I’m Special Agent Baxter, and this is my partner, Special Agent Stone. We appreciate you agreeing to speak with us.”

Stella offers a pained smile. “We’re willing to do anything at all to help catch whoever did this.” She winces a moment. “Please tell us they found that poor woman.”

Jack shakes his head. “That’s why it’s crucial that you tell anything at all that you can remember.”

Stella leans forward with her brow furrowed with concern as she looks at her sister.

“It was a nightmare,” Connie starts, nodding at her sister with a look of lingering fear. “We never thought something like this could happen at a house showing. And believe me, we’ve been looking for months on behalf of our mother. She’s in Texas now and wants to move back to the area to be closer to the two of us. Of course, now that house is off the table.” She says that last bit firmly as can be.

Jack pulls out his phone to take notes and I do the same. “Can you walk us through what happened that day?” he asks gently, encouraging them to open up at their own pace with his tone.

Stella takes a deep breath as her gaze steers out the window. “It all happened so fast. One minute we were admiring the yard out back, and the next, there was just...chaos.”

Connie reaches out and takes ahold of her sister’s hand. “There was this person, all in black. We didn’t even see where they came from. We heard a powerful pop—twice. Stella got hit first, then I felt this sting on my arm.”

“The person in black,” I start. “Did you see their face? Anything distinctive about them? The skin around their eyes? Could you see the color of their flesh?”

Both sisters shake their heads.

“It was all such a blur,” Stella admits. “But they were definitely there for Brittney. They grabbed her and—and that was the last we saw of her.” Her voice grows weak and wobbles.

I lean in. “Before the perpetrator arrived, what was going on? Was anyone else with you on the premises? A gardener, a painter, anyone at all?”

They exchange a look and shake their heads at one another.

“Just Brittney, the realtor,” Connie says. “And the daughter of the woman who owns the property.”

“Blondish, light brown hair,” Stella says, nodding. “She introduced herself as Nessa, I think?”

Connie nods back, affirming the fact. “We met briefly in the driveway. She and Brittney were chatting away when we arrived.”

“Did you happen to hear what they were discussing?” I tip my ear her way so as not to miss a word.

“Oh, this and that.” Connie waves it off. “It sounded like small talk.”

“Something about a reunion.” Stella lifts a finger as if it was coming back to her. “They mentioned someone named Derek and then they laughed. I remember thinking I missed laughing with my friends like that.” She pats her sister’s arm. “Who am I kidding? Only you can make me laugh like that.”

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