Page 89 of Dead Man's List

There had been a safe in Munro’s home office, but it had been empty when CSU had gotten it open. So they still didn’t know where Munro had hidden the profits from his blackmail scheme.

Kit pulled a copy of Walter Grossman’s mug shot from her pocket. “Do you recognize this man? He may have been one of Munro’s friends or colleagues.”

Wilhelmina studied the photo. “He looks familiar, but I don’t think I ever met him. Maybe I once saw him talking to Brooks a long time ago? I don’t know his name. I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” Kit said. Hopefully Joel was getting the name the man had been using in San Diego, because there was no record of a Walter Grossman living in San Diego County. “We’ll be going now if you don’t have any questions for us.”

Wilhelmina began walking to the door. “No questions. Please let me know when this case is solved. I’d like to close this chapter of my life and move on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kit paused as she passed the yoga mat. “You dropped something, ma’am.”

A fifty-dollar bill peeked out from beneath the mat.

“Dammit,” Wilhelmina muttered, grabbing the bill from the floor. “Rafferty dropped some of the money I gave him to buy groceries. I hope he realizes it before he gets to the cash register. If you see him on your way out, please tell him to come back. He didn’t leave too long ago.”

“We will,” Connor said. “Have a good day, ma’am.”

Kit and Connor said nothing until they were back in the department sedan. “She took it better than I would have,” Kit said.

Connor huffed a laugh. “I thought she’d be throwing things.”

“She still might. She just might not have done so while we were there.”

“Then I hope the owners of that rental have good insurance. There were some expensive sculptures on the shelves. The onenext to the front door was worth at least twenty-five thousand dollars. Maybe more.”

“For a statue?” Kit should her head.Rich people.Then she frowned. “Wait. Is that normal? I mean, for luxury rentals to have expensive artwork?”

“Depends on who she rented it from.” Hands on the steering wheel, Connor stared at the building, a thoughtful look on his face. “She lived in San Diego for years, so she might know the owner. If that’s the case, I wouldn’t be surprised. But if it’s just an Airbnb? I’d say that’s unusual. Let’s find out who owns it.”

Kit did a property search. “It’s owned by Robert Jackson.” She googled the man and nodded. “He owns the Cliff Hotel franchise here in the city. She’s the heiress of the Cliff fortune. They probably know each other.”

“I’ve heard his name. He’s certainly rich enough to afford sculptures of that quality and if they knew each other from the hotel business, he’d trust her not to steal them. We should still check with him, though.”

“I’ll get his contact info and call him while you drive back to the precinct. Let’s get going. I’m hoping we’ll find that Joel has pried an alternate name for Walter Grossman out of the pilot.”

Mira Mesa, San Diego, California

Tuesday, January 10, 6:30 p.m.

Walter Grossman, now known by his Wayne Walters alias, lived in a small bungalow-style home that was completely dark.

Standing on the curb, Connor studied the house with a frown. “His car’s in the driveway. If he’s home, he should have at least one light on.”

“He could be waiting for us, especially after Veronica warnedhim that we ‘knew something.’ Let’s do a walk around before we knock on the door.”

“He might have cameras. He’ll see us.”

“Then I’ll walk around, and you watch the front door. If he tries to leave, stop him.”

“Thank you for your wise words of wisdom,” Connor said sarcastically. “I say we call for backup.”

He was right, especially since Grossman was Munro’s muscle. “I’ll still cover the back. I don’t want him getting away. We won’t attempt entry until backup arrives.”

It had taken several hours for Joel Haley to get Wayne Walters’s name from Steven Neal. The pilot had heeded his attorney’s advice, waiting for the prosecutor to offer him a deal in writing.

Kit hoped they weren’t too late. Veronica had warned the PI yesterday that they had to get away. Walter Grossman, a.k.a. Wayne Walters, might have already left town. Or the country.

Steven Neal also admitted to having flown Veronica and the PI to the Caymans together many times. He believed the two had been sexual partners but were more like friends with benefits than in a deep relationship.

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