Page 176 of Dead Man's List

“We thought that, so we got a team out there with ground-penetrating radar to check, but there were no buried boxes or anything like that.”

Just eighteen graves.

Eighteen girls.

Alicia Batra and the other MEs had a busy time ahead of them, identifying the remains. They had no idea exactly howlong Shoemaker had been killing girls, but it had been years based on the condition of the corpses. Kit had already promised that she’d help connect physical descriptions to missing persons. They’d probably been homeless teens. Girls that no one was searching for.

At least we found Wren’s body.There had been some closure there. But seeing all the corpses had rattled Kit to her core.That could have been me. I could have been one of those girls on the street, trying to survive. Had it not been for Harlan and Betsy…

Sam grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Hey,” he murmured, like he knew where her mind had gone.

He probably did. He’d been there at Kit’s side when the team with the GPR had discovered the first body, and he and Kit had waited until all the graves had been located.

It had only seemed right.

“We should probably be going,” Sam said. “We’ll let you rest and come back tomorrow, okay?”

Connor was watching Kit carefully. “How many, Kit? How many graves did the GPR team find when they were looking for the list?”

“Eighteen,” she whispered.

Connor’s exhale was heavy and sad. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save them.”

“You saved Daniella,” Sam said. “And Dawn and Amy and Stephie. They won’t be on the street because of you two.”

“And you too, Sam,” Connor said. “I think I need to rest now. Get out of here.” But it was said with affection.

Kit gripped Connor’s hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You said you weren’t going to say that again, but I knew you would,” he boasted.

To make her smile, Kit knew. And it worked. Kind of.

Kit pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at Connor. “Tomorrow. I’ll be back. And when you’re back to snuff, I’m not pulling my punches.”

“Bring it,” Connor called as they left his room.

Kit’s shoulders sagged when they were out in the hall again. “And thank you, Sam.”

He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, the tender gesture squeezing her heart too hard. “For what?” he whispered.

She pursed her lips, her eyes welling with tears she didn’t understand. “For…everything, I guess.” She wiped at her eyes angrily. “I have no idea why I’m doing this. I don’t cry.”

“It’s leftover emotion,” Sam said, “and very normal. You carry a lot on your shoulders. Sometimes a valve has to be opened so some of that pressure can escape. Tears are good.”

“Let’s go see Daniella.” She straightened her spine and forced herself out of her comfort zone. For Sam. “Mom’s making pot roast tonight. Wanna come to dinner?”

He smiled and she knew she’d made the right move. “As long as I can stop and get Siggy. He’s been locked in his crate a lot this week.”

“Of course Siggy is welcome. The girls will love him and he can play with Snickerdoodle and Petunia.”

“Petunia? Who’s—” Sam blinked. “Wait, that new monster dog is namedPetunia?”

Kit laughed, glad the tears seemed to be gone. “Yep. Even though he’s a male dog. The girls said they shouldn’t be ‘constrained by gender norms.’ ”

“Okay, but…Petunia? He’s immense.”

“Gonna get immenser,” Kit muttered. “He got into Mom’s flower garden and came running up to the girls with a mouthful of winter pansies. Mom wanted to be mad, but the dog was too cute with a bouquet of flowers sticking out of his mouth.” Shesmiled, affection for the teenagers warming her chest. “I figured they’d name him Pansy, but the girls thought the flowers were petunias at first and the name stuck.” She fished her phone from her pocket and showed Sam the photo her mother had texted.

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