Page 24 of Dead Man's List

“Uh…”

“He is,” Carla said quietly. “He gave a recommendation and we put it on the website.”

“Oh. All right. Well then, yes. He’s one of our clients. But I’ve never personally met the man. I’d have to check our records to find out when we last serviced his lawn. Why?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Connor pulled a folded paper from his pocket. He’d printed screenshots of the trailer leaving Munro’s community. “Is this your trailer?”

David took the paper, Carla looking over his arm to see. Both frowned, then looked at each other. “David? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered, then met Kit’s eyes. “This is our logo, our artwork, but we don’t own a trailer of that size. Where did you get this photo?”

“It left Brooks Munro’s community the day he disappeared,” Kit said, watching their reactions. She had no intention of answering his question. At least not until she was sure that he wasn’t somehow involved in Munro’s murder.

Carla’s hand flew to her mouth. “David?”

David shook his head, looking confounded. “This isnotour trailer. I don’t know whose it is, but it doesnotbelong to me or to my company. Do I need a lawyer?”

“Would you allow us access to your service records?” Connor answered, dodging the question about lawyers. “We’d like to see when your company serviced Mr.Munro’s property.”

“Yes,” Carla said firmly. “David, we have nothing to hide.”

“Famous last words,” David muttered, then shook the printed screenshot. “How did this happen? How did someone get a trailer with our logo?”

“We don’t know, sir,” Kit said honestly. “We were hoping you could tell us.”

David slowly exhaled. “Sorry, guys. I’m calling my lawyer.”

“David!” Carla exclaimed.

“We’re not guilty, Carla. We’re smart. I’ll have my lawyer contact you, Detectives. I assume you have a business card. If he says it’s okay, I’ll give you access to my service records.”

Kit handed him a business card, annoyed and trying hard not to show it. “Can you answer one question for us?”

“Depends,” David said cagily. “What’s the question?”

“Are your trailers painted or wrapped?”

“Wrapped,” he said readily enough. “We use a body shop in Mission Valley. I’m happy to give you their information.”

If the trailer truly didn’t belong to Norton Landscaping—and it was easily enough checked—then Munro’s killer had to have gotten it somewhere else.

Kit opened the Notes app on her phone. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Jennifer’s Body Shop,” David said.

Kit looked up from her phone. “Seriously? Wasn’t that a movie?Jennifer’s Body?”

“A horror movie,” Carla said. “But this Jennifer is a real person and she runs a body shop. She’s…dramatic. But she does good work and we always get a discount.”

“Okay,” Kit said. “Did she also design the graphic for the trailer wraps?”

“That’s two questions,” David said, grunting when Carla elbowed him.

“Dammit, David,” she hissed. “This is serious.”

“So am I,” he snapped. “We need to let our lawyer handle this.”

Carla shook her head. “Jen’s boyfriend is the graphic designer. I think his name is Bran. Like the cereal.”

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