Am I that stingy with my affection?
That had to stop. She was protecting her own heart and hurting those she loved in the process.No more.
“Not your birthday. Not yet. Go to sleep. I won’t leave you.”
“M’kay.” Akiko rolled over and in less than a minute was snoring delicately, just as she’d done when they’d been McKittrick House roommates all those years ago.
Kit got in her own bed, immediately noting that Betsy had set out her old quilt. Betsy had made two back then, one for her and one for Wren. It was as close to a security blanket as Kit had ever had.
She snuggled under the quilt and took out her phone.
Her first text was to Connor.We never found out from Veronica about where their marks would drop the money.
Three little dots appeared before Connor’s reply.Shit. You’re right. She said it moved, but we need the last few places. We can check surveillance footage if we know a few places.
Yep, Kit answered.I’ll ask Joel to put it on his list of things to bargain for. Just wanted you to know.
Let’s focus on that tomorrow first thing. You okay?
Kit was startled at the question. Why wouldn’t she be okay?I’m good. You?
At CeCe’s. All is well.
Why did you ask?
Because Letterman was mean to you. Wanted to smack her.
Kit laughed softly, touched.Thank you. I can handle meanness. Go to sleep.
She texted Joel about the drop location, then sent an email to Navarro. Everyone was all caught up, but she wasn’t done yet.
One more text.
Sweet dreams, Sam.
His reply was immediate.You too.
He added a heart emoji and Kit stared at it for the longest time before sending a heart back.
Now she could go to sleep.
San Diego PD, San Diego, California
Wednesday, January 11, 8:00 a.m.
“Thank you?” Kit said in surprise when a large chocolate cupcake was deposited into her hand as soon as she walked through Homicide’s double doors.
Detective Kevin Marshall nodded with a wide grin. “You’re welcome.”
“So…someone solved a case?” she asked, dragging her finger through the cupcake’s icing. She licked it off, humming in appreciation even though her mother’s baked goods were a thousand times better.
These cupcakes had come from the bakery near the precinct and were the standard celebration food whenever someone closed a homicide.
“We did,” Marshall said, then his grin turned sheepish. “Or you did. The Munro case is still open, of course, but we closed the Crocker case. The gun you found under Walter Grossman’s body last night was a ballistics match for the gun that killed Jacob Crocker, William Weaver’s PI.”
Kit wasn’t surprised. “I wonder if Munro ordered it or if Grossman took it on himself to kill Weaver’s PI.”
“Ask Veronica,” Alf Ashton said, coming to stand with his partner. “She recognized Jacob Crocker’s name, so she at least knew about him. We asked Joel to add it to the things he wants to get in her plea bargain.”