Page 60 of Sinful Reality

Pushing my blankets aside and snagging a pair of sweatpants, I step into them as the cold air sends goosebumps sprinting along every inch of exposed skin I possess. Grabbing a shirt and dragging it over my head, I run a hand through my hair and start toward the door, even as a yawn wracks through my body and forces my eyes shut.

Quietly, I open the door and let Chloe dash in to take back her comfortable spot on my pillow, then I step into the hall and make my way toward the living room. I hear no voices. No news on the television. No conversations between my brother and wife. But I see the flicker and glow of the TV screen playing off the far wall.

And then I hear the gnawing sound of air passing through a blocked nose.

The whistling exhale of someone who should be asleep in her own damn bed.

Curious, I stop at the end of the hall and tilt my head, taking in the odd scene laid out ahead of me. The TV playing CCTV footage of places I know the New York moms visited, the time stamp showing October twenty-seventh, two-thousand-and-nine. And on the couch, Cato sitting up, his legs criss-cross style and his entire body cloaked by a blanket.

He’s like the hunchback of Notre Dame, his elbows on his knees and a pen in one hand, a notebook resting in his lap.

Worse… or stranger, perhaps, is Minka laid out on the floor in front of the couch, a barely touched coffee sitting on the coffee table, Cato’s pillow under her head, and the spare blanket draped over her curled body. She snores through her blocked nose and frowns in her sleep.

But she sleeps, at least.

“Don’t be loud,” Cato grumbles without looking my way. “She was working at two. She needs the downtime now.”

Digging my hands into my pockets, I wander around and stand at the end of the couch, spying the notebook he scribbles in and the screen he takes notes from. Then I look at Minka again, frowning because hernose is trying to kill her, and her mouth hangs slack while she struggles for air.

“I don’t even know where to start. But how the fuck did we end up here?”

“She woke up early to work.” His eyes remain firmly on the screen, his hand moving fast as he writes things in short form scribbles only he would understand. “She made a coffee, sat down, and started watching the videos.”

“And you let her?” I study her messy hair, long strands draped across her face and tangled in the blanket. Her splotchy cheeks and red nose. I count the tissues scattered on the floor and the coffee she attempted to drink, but didn’t get through.

Thank fuck.

“She should be in bed.”

“That sounds like ayouthing.” He pauses the footage, adds notes to his book, and pinches his brows tight. “As her husband, it’s on you to get her to bed and keep her there. As her brother-in-law, it’s my job to hand her a pillow and blanket and hope she doesn’t tear my face off for it. I couldn’t offer her my bed, couldn’t carry her back to yours, and didn’t want her to work all night.” Lowering his pen, he glances my way and flashes a smile. “Did my best, considering I’m working on a single hour of sleep.”

“Why? And why are you watching confidential evidence in an active, ongoing homicide investigation?”

He drops his grin and un-pauses the video to resume his task. “Because she started it. And then she was missing stuff.”

“Missing stuff?”

“Mm. Too tired to see straight. She was writing things down, but missing other things.”

“And you thought you could do a better job?”

He reveals a wicked grin and sets his pen down, an air of finality in the action. Smugness, too. “Not only did I do a better job, but I found your common denominator.” He grabs his phone and beckons me closer with a tilt of his chin. Unlocking the screen and navigating to his photo album, he smirks and swipes quickly when I get a glimpse of bare skin. “Not those,” he teases with a laugh. “Those are for me.”

“Minka finds out you’ve got naked women in your albums, she’ll peel the flesh off your bones.”

His cheeks puff higher, pushing into his vision as he opens a different album and scrolls to the top. “Each one was sent with permission. I didn’t download them off the net, and I didn’t buy them or receive them illegally.” He looks up with a taunting grin. “Women enjoy when I pay them attention, Arch. I know you’re married now, but I’m sure you remember those days.”

“Shut the fuck up aboutthose days.” I snatch his phone and perch on the arm of the couch. “I’m sick of you getting me in trouble for things I didn’t do.”

“Didn’t dothis year.I’m not sure our lives were a hell of a lot different when you were eighteen, though.” He pushes his blanket off and leans closer to point at the screen. “I’ve got the same woman at the same places as sixteen of your vics so far.”

My heart jumps with adrenaline. “You’re sure?”

“Looks the same to me. Older footage is a lot harder to say for certain, so a jury probably wouldn’t consider it enough to convict. If you only had the first two or three cases to work with, you’d be shit out of luck. But technology jumps, and pixels improve pretty significantly around ‘05. This woman rigggght…” He flicks through his pictures and pulls one up, though it’s only of the back of her body. “Here. She ages over the years, and so does her kid. Her clothes change, and her hairstyles, too. At some point, long after the actual trend ended, she had a perm. Other times, she went with a ponytail. Her weight fluctuates, though not by a lot. Her face ages significantly around two-thousand and fourteen, two-thousand and fifteen, like life got really hard in those years. Her kid grows fast as hell, from little to a teen and beyond.”

“Her kid?” I pinch the image between my thumb and finger and attempt to zoom closer. “You’re saying our potential perp is a woman who brought her kid along for each kill?”

“Well, these aren’t your kills, right? Those are all in January, but this footage is from other times in the year. The cop from New York did a good job compiling the videos, considering how massive the net was. But he was on to something; follow the moms on their free coupon adventures, find the one person who keeps popping up at each place.”

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