Page 126 of Dead Man's List

“We aren’t hoodlums, Detectives,” Daly snapped. “What were they going to do? Kill me?”

“Someone killed Munro,” Kit said calmly, choosing not to snap back. “Someone in your circle seems to be fully capable of murder.”

“Which is why we’re here,” Daly’s attorney interjected. “My client fears for his life.”

“As well he should,” Kit said soberly. “Give me a moment, please.”

Not moving from her chair, she constructed a group text to Navarro, Sam, Kevin Marshall, Alf Ashton, and Connor.

Could Hugh Smith be Neckbeard?

Maybecame Marshall’s immediate answer. The man hadn’t been home when they’d knocked, but they had his driver’s license information.He’s 5-10, average build, average weight, just like Neckbeard.

But Neckbeard had spoken to Daly. Had asked about his wife. Surely Daly would have recognized Smith’s voice.

Kit showed her phone to Connor and Joel, then returned her attention to Daly. “So Mr.Smith might have asked an underling to find a hit man. That means at least one more person knows about the plot.”

“I know,” Daly said grimly. “Smith is a fool. We all wanted to make Munro suffer, but none of us are thugs.”

The jury was out on that. “How did you communicate your meeting places?”

“Hugh called us on our normal cell phones, but he used a burner. The fucker. Can’t trace anything back to him. He’s got us over a barrel, but his hands stay clean.”

If Hugh Smith was Neckbeard, he had them all over a barrel anyway, since he would have access to Munro’s list. But if he wasn’t…

That Marshall and Ashton hadn’t been able to find Hugh Smith took on a darker meaning. Whoever had killed Munro, be it an individual or a group, could possibly be tracked through Smith, assuming Neckbeard knew about him. Hugh Smith was an unfortunate loose end.

She sent another text to the group.Can we send someone to do a wellness check on Hugh Smith? Break down his door if you have to.

Already on itcame Navarro’s reply.Uniforms should be arriving at his house any minute.

“Did Smith say how he found the hit man?” Connor asked.

Daly shook his head. “He didn’t say, we didn’t ask. I don’t know what he does in his day-to-day security job, but I assumed he had less-than-savory connections.”

Kit scanned the list of Daly’s names again. “How well do you know the others on the list?”

“Some better than others. I’d call two friends, three acquaintances, and the others are just people I nod to at the club or on the green.”

“Was Hugh Smith a friend?” Connor asked.

“Acquaintance. If that. Bert Ramsey and Henry Reese are friends. Or they were. After this, I don’t think any of them will be speaking to me again.”

“You might have saved their lives,” Connor said seriously.

“They won’t see it that way,” Daly muttered.

“Could any of the men on this list have been the person who spoke to you on Monday?” Kit asked.

Daly appeared to be honestly taken aback. “What? Like, in disguise?”

“Yes, sir,” Kit said, managing not to roll her eyes. “In disguise.”

“I…I don’t know. I don’t think so, but…” Daly frowned, his fear reappearing. “I just don’t know.”

Kit believed him. Mostly. “Did the others meet again?”

“I don’t know. I blocked Hugh’s burner on my cell phone and never got any further communication from him or any of the others.”

---