Page 57 of Smith

Pictures?

“What kind of pictures?”

Please don’t be of dead people.

Please don’t let my house be infested with the bad juju of a murder.

“Pictures of girls.”

Oh my God! A pedo was worse than a murder.

I was totally dumping this house.

“Girls?” I whispered.

“Didn’t get a good look, not gonna take another look, but yeah, girls. Look to be teenagers.”

“Why do you want Kira?” I asked.

And that’s when I noticed Jonas hanging back in the hall watching. No, not watching—glaring at the tin box with a scary scowl on his face.

“I’m not looking at the pictures again but someone has to.”

“I can?—”

“Baby, you look like you’re gonna puke. No way are you looking at these pictures.”

So, he was right. I did feel nauseous but it was my house and I needed to suck it and do my part.

“I can?—”

“Coop said you needed me,” Kira interrupted.

“Yeah, grab some gloves and bag this. Then when you get back to the office, I hate this for you, KK, but you need to catalog the pictures inside before you dust them for pints.”

“Coop’s better?—”

“Girls, darlin’, they’re pictures of girls,” Jonas put in.

Kira’s face turned pale before it turned a shade of unnatural red.

“Motherfucker,” she cursed.

“Jonas, you’re wearing gloves,” Kira pointed out. “Bag that for me, yeah?”

I watched helplessly while the box was passed off.

Then I stood there longer in absolute shock.

Girls.

Pictures of girls.

A break-in.

Someone following me.

Letters that no longer seemed so silly.

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