Page 75 of Dead Man's List

“Give or take. Veronica made five million and Munro kept twice that.”

“Joel said that Munro and Veronica grew up together. She was ten years older than he was.”

“True. They wouldn’t have been in the same school. We need to find out how they met.”

Sam hesitated, then shrugged. “It might be a long shot, but try the foster care system.”

Kit flinched. “What?”

“The bonds you’ve forged with your brothers and sisters are through shared pain. Sounds like Veronica and Munro shared the same strong bond. Strong enough for him to trust her with millions of dollars. She held all the cash. Shecouldhave stolen from him.”

“Maybe she did.”

“Do you think so?”

“I don’t know. I’ll dig into Munro’s background. He never mentioned anything about growing up in foster care or even growing up poor.”

“He wanted to be respected. He wanted to be upper crust. Having a poor childhood would have barred him from some circles.”

“Sad but true,” Kit murmured. “But that is an excellent point.” She frowned, rewinding their conversation. Then she got it. “You think the PI was one of Munro’s childhood friends, too.”

“Maybe. It’s a theory, at least. It would have taken a lot of trust—on both Munro’s part and the PI’s—to agree to a scheme like this. Especially with the arrangement Veronica claimed they had. That not one of them had all the information.”

“Except Brooks Munro.”

“He had the information, but he let Veronica handle the money.”

“True.” Kit’s mind was reeling. “We need to have dinner more often. You’ve given me several more threads to pull.”

Sam smiled. “Happy to be of service. But to be technical, we didn’t have dinner together.”

Kit nodded once. “We need to rectify that situation.”

He held her gaze, his green eyes steady. “We do.”

“After this case is solved.”

“Or Saturday night, whichever comes first.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to argue. “Connor is having dinner with CeCe. He makes the time. You can, too.”

Her argument fizzled. “You’re right again. Saturday night. Where will we go?”

“I’ll let you know.”

And that she wasn’t nervous about it? Or annoyed at losing an entire night of investigating?

That should scare the hell out of me.

But it didn’t. Because it was Sam. And she trusted him.

Chapter Nine

San Diego PD, San Diego, California

Tuesday, January 10, 9:15 a.m.

“Thank you so very much,” Kit said into the speakerphone. She looked at Connor, who crossed his fingers. “We really appreciate you calling us back.”

“It’s no problem, Detective.” Mary Cowen was the office manager for foster care in Tulsa, Oklahoma. “I’m happy to help. What do you need?”

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