Page 58 of 25 Alive

“Yesss?”

“Hello, is this Mrs. Kinney?”

“Who is this and what are you selling?”

“Hi, Mrs. Kinney. This is Cindy Thomas from theSan Francisco Chronicle. I’m a reporter.”

“Oh? Do you write your own stories? Or do you gather information and pass them on to a writer?”

Cindy laughed. “Wow. Areyoua reporter?”

“Was. A long time ago. So, what can I do for you?”

“I’d like to talk to you about your daughter Angela’s ex-husband, Brett Palmer.”

“Hold on, Cindy. I’m looking you up. Hmmm. Okay. Okay. You’re a crime writer, and you want to know about Brett and Angela?”

“That’s right, Mrs. Kinney. Can you help me?”

“Are you going after Brett?”

“I want to find out what happened to your daughter. With your help, maybe I can get a handle on why she died and what Brett may have done or didn’t do to cause her death.”

“Where are you?”

“San Francisco.”

“If you’ll come here, I’ll talk to you. Lord knows, I’m not doing this over the phone.”

“I can be there in an hour or so, traffic depending.”

“My name is Joann, by the way. You need my address?”

Cindy confirmed the address she’d found online.

“Well then, giddyap,” said Joann Kinney.

“See you soon,” Cindy said.

She washed her face, fluffed her hair, put on a baby-blue cardigan over a white turtleneck and khakis. She called Richie and left him a message. Then she gathered her things, locked up the apartment, and went out to her car. She turned on the ignition and put the Kinney family’s address into her GPS.

Then she put the car in gear and headed north.

CHAPTER87

THERE WAS A nine-by-twelve-inch manila envelope in the pile of mail on Steinmetz’s desk. He pulled it out of the stack and opened it, extracted the contents, and reviewed it all again. Then he buzzed his assistant.

“Rogers? I need you.”

“Yes, Chief.”

Brooks Rogers, a tidy forty-year-old man in shirtsleeves, had been assistant to the section chief for the last five years. He entered Steinmetz’s office and asked, “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I want you to phone Lieutenant Jackson Brady at the SFPD, Southern Division. Identify yourself to whoever answers his phone. Your name and mine and that this call is urgent. If there’s any kind of bull crap, stress that it’s a matter of life and death and they’re to get Brady on the phone.”

“Yes, sir. Or die trying.”

“Exactly, Rogers.”

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