Page 64 of Say My Name

Ashley studies the board. “Ok, go to the next one.” She grabs another slice of pizza from the open box and settles onto the couch cushions.

“This is Lindsey Jane.” I place the picture of a blue-eyed girl with a rainbow of hair color next to Suzie. “Stage name, Strawberry. Same details. Late at night murder. No forced entry. No shell casings at the scene.” I glance at the report. “The markings on the bullet fragments retrieved from the body show it was most likely a Glock-19. When they ran the images of the fragments through the NIBIN, they determined this gun wasn’t used in any other crimes anywhere in the country.” I set the report down. “It’s obviously a throwaway gun.”

Ashley finishes her slice of pizza. “Who’s next?”

“Julie Landers. Stage name, Ginger. Now, this one is slightly different because a neighbor overheard shouting and the gunshot and called the police. So, they found her not long after her death.”

A darkness has fallen over my living room, and I can feel the palpable despair hanging heavy in the air. It’s a shame women are dying.

“What time did they find her?” Ashley asks.

“The cops were on the scene at three a.m.”

“So, she was murdered just before that?”

“Yes.” I hang her picture next to the others. “But Devereaux says she left the club just after midnight and they discovered her body at three. So, what did she do between those hours?”

“Maybe hanging out at home?”

“Well, according to this” —I pick up the copy of the police report— “a neighbor said he saw her get home around three.”

“Where did she go after the club?”

I shrug. “Don’t know.”

“Weird.”

“Now, before we get to Luna’s murder, here are a few other things I’ve learned.”

Ashley picks up her soda, taking a sip. “Ok.”

“Brandon, head of security.” I clip up his picture with a cherry magnet. “He’s dating, well, sleeping with, Sugar.” I place her picture next to him. “A neighbor reported seeing Brandon’s car drive down Luna’s street the night she was murdered.”

Ashley’s brow lifts. “Do you think Brandon did it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve got my eye on him.” I stare at Brandon’s picture.

“What about the owner of the club?”

“Devereaux Huxley.” I put his photo on the board with an eggplant emoji.

Fitting.

“Shame if it’s him. He’s so gorgeous,” Ashley says, setting her soda can on the coffee table.

I sigh, and “I know” slips out before I can stop it.

Ashley must notice the school-girl infatuation sound in my voice. “Do you have a crush on him? Please tell me you’re not falling for him.”

I snap my eyes to hers. “I’m not falling for him.” I don’t dare tell her about our lascivious encounters. Or how much I enjoyed them.

“Wait,” Ashley sits up straighter. “Let me see the picture of Ginger.”

I remove the picture and hand it to her. “What’s going on?”

She shakes her head. “She’s the one who died on August thirtieth, right?”

“Yes, why?”

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