Page 47 of Remember Her Name

“We’re talking about hundreds of cases,” Josie said. “Maybe even thousands.”

Gretchen walked back to her desk and plopped into her chair. “But we’re only talking about the ones where the convictions were overturned. I can get in touch with the DA’s office and see if they’ve got records.”

Josie turned her attention to the third polaroid. Either theory sounded reasonable—that the killings had something to do with Remy Tate or that they were connected to Neal and Lampson—but that still didn’t account for the photos. What point was this killer trying to make?

“Stabbings,” Josie said. “Cases that involved stabbings. He left the knives at both crime scenes.”

Gretchen nodded. “That should help narrow it down.”

“We should also check our own databases for cases that weren’t overturned,” Noah suggested. “Stabbings where Lampson was the lead detective and Neal prosecuted.”

“On it,” Gretchen said, sliding on her reading glasses and turning to her computer.

Turner stood and walked up beside Josie. One of his long fingers traced a circle around the aerial view of Peter Rowland’s property. “Is there any significance to the locations? Both had to do with previous cases, from what you guys have said.”

“Fairly recent cases, though,” Gretchen said, fingers flying over her keyboard. “Neal was long retired, and Lampson was in prison before either of those crossed our desks.”

Turner nudged Josie with his elbow. “That makes you the connection between Lampson and Neal. You worked with both of them.”

“So did I,” said Noah.

“Yeah, but Quinn figured out the locations in the photos. What’s that mean, LT? She’s smarter than you?”

Turner wasn’t looking at Noah, too fixated on the map, but Josie caught the grin on his face, meant for her. “Why do you think I married her?”

He was going to get very lucky later.

Not getting the response he’d hoped for—annoyance, irritation, and possibly a reprimand—Turner moved on. “Palmer can search up cases but that could take forever. We’re back to pictures. We gotta figure out where this guy wants us to go next.”

THIRTY-THREE

Josie’s knuckles blanched as she gripped the steering wheel. The drive through the campus of Denton University wasn’t exactly fraught with difficulty, but her mind was still on the Cleo Tate and Stella Townsend murders. The Polaroid Killings, Turner had called them before she and Noah left for the day. She just hoped the press didn’t get wind of the photos—or the name. It would put them into even more of a frenzy than they were already.

“Are you even listening to me?” Trinity’s voice broke through Josie’s thoughts.

Glancing over at the passenger’s seat, Josie saw her sister’s perfectly plucked brows knit in annoyance.

“I knew it,” Trinity said. “I can tell when you’re not listening. Josie, I know how dedicated you are to your work, but you need to be able to shut it out and be present sometimes.”

“I know,” Josie mumbled even as her brain went right back to the last photo. She had spent the time left on her shift puzzling over it to no avail.

“Really, Josie,” said Trinity. “Being present is a skill, like anything else. You have to work on it.”

“I know, I know,” Josie replied. Turner was convinced that she could figure it out but his supposed confidence in her feltmore like pressure. He’d hovered until she snapped at him to give her some space.

Turner.

Josie had been so fixated on the case that she’d been with Trinity all afternoon and hadn’t asked her the question that had been burning a hole in her brain since the night Turner brought Amber to her house.

“Trin,” she said. “How do you know Kyle Turner?”

“This is you being present? Josie, really.”

“I’m not asking because of work. I’m asking because I’m curious. You’re on a first-name basis with him.”

Trinity looked out the window as they passed the university library. “He solved that escort case. Did you know that?”

“Yeah,” Josie said. “Gretchen looked him up when he started. I’ve read the articles. He got a lot of press for solving that case.”

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