Page 9 of Dead Man's List

“I did. There isn’t enough left for a clear ID. The ME will likely have to use dental records or DNA. He—”

“No, Kit.Lookat him. I know him.”

Startled, Kit crouched at the dead man’s side. And then she recognized him, too. Or at least the tribal-style tattoo that wound up his neck, ending behind what had been his ear. “Well, shit.”

Sam huffed a mirthless laugh. “Shit indeed. That’s Councilman Brooks Munro.”

Of the San Diego city council.

Kit scowled down at the body. “This is not gonna be fun.”

“Our second-favorite local politician,” Sam said, his tone dripping with disdain.

Kit looked up at him in surprise. She’d never heard him use that caustic tone before and wondered what his experience had been with the councilman, who had a reputation of being very charismatic and charming. At the same time, Kit had heard rumors of impropriety, but nothing had ever been proven.

“Who’s the first?” she asked, although she thought she knew.

He met her gaze. “Drummond.”

Drummond had resigned his seat after being charged with murder, but Kit took Sam’s point. She still wondered why Sam hated this councilman. “Munro has been missing for a few days,” she said.

“I know,” he said flatly. “I saw it on the news.”

“He was reported by his wife, who’s been out of town. Two officers did a welfare check and found blood on his garage floor. Enough that they assumed that he’d been seriously injured.”

Sam grimaced. “I’d say he was seriously injured. Oh shit. Kit. His hands…”

Kit sighed. The victim’s fingers were missing, as were the toes on his exposed foot. “Could have been animals.”

“God, I hope so. But you don’t think so.”

“No, I don’t.” Because now that she was closer, she could also see the stab wounds in the man’s chest. She counted at least twenty at first glance. Someone had really wanted this man to suffer. “But the ME will tell us for sure. Let me call it in.”

She pulled her phone from her pocket, but she had no signal. “Dammit.”

“Wait.” Sam dropped to one knee and began rifling through his backpack, piling its contents on the sand until he found what he’d been looking for. “Here.” He held out a phone. “Sat phone. You’ll get a signal with that.”

“Do you always carry a sat phone?”

“Yep. It’s a safety thing. Siggy and I hike in remote areas. Cell signals are never a given.”

She glanced down at him while she searched her phone for her boss’s contact information. “Are those…Sam, do you have night-vision goggles?”

He looked up, expression slightly embarrassed. “Christmas present from my parents. I promised I’d carry them with me, just in case. I also packed a picnic lunch, but I don’t think I have any appetite anymore.” He loaded everything into his pack and stood, his expression now pained as he turned his back on the body. “Please call Lieutenant Navarro, Kit. I want to get away from here as soon as we possibly can.”

Kit hated to tell him that it would likely be hours before they could leave. So she merely dialed Navarro’s number.

“Navarro. Who is this?” her boss answered brusquely.

“It’s Kit. We’ve got a situation here.”

San Diego PD, San Diego, California

Saturday, January 7, 5:30 p.m.

Connor Robinson stuck his head in Lieutenant Navarro’s office. “So you two just happened to find the one missing body in nearly one thousand square miles of state park?”

Kit and Sam were in her boss’s office, waiting on Navarro to debrief them. They’d dropped the dogs off with Harlan and Betsy, and Kit had picked up her own car, knowing that her day was far from over. Hopefully Navarro would let Sam go home as soon as they’d reviewed his statement, but Kit had the awful feeling that her boss would keep her far longer.

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