Page 97 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“Uh, sure. Don’t you need a warrant or something for that information?”

“I can get one, but it only wastes taxpayer dollars on all the paperwork. Plus it might lead us to take a deeper look into some of his activities.”

“Right.” She swivelled towards her computer. “Sure. I’ll just get you that information… Uh, he arrived at seven and left at nine thirty.”

Which may have given him just enough time to drive to Kim’s place, but it would have been tight.

“Do you know if he has a tattoo?”

The receptionist giggled. “You mean the one on his butt? SpongeBob? My friend Carla accidentally walked into the locker room while he was changing, and we think he must have gotten it for a bet.”

“No, on his left arm.”

“Oh. No, nothing on his arms.”

“Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Do you need anything else? A coffee? We offer complimentary two-week memberships for new clients.” She twirled a lock of hair around one finger. “I could extend that to a month?”

“Sorry, got to get back to work.”

Her face fell. “If you think of anything else, call me,” she said as I strode out the door.

***

Every light in Kim’s house was blazing when I got back there, hoping Wyatt’s luck had been better than mine. A cop tried to stop me from ducking under the crime scene tape at the perimeter, then realised who I was and stepped aside.

“Been a while, Reed.”

“Yeah, Norm, it has.”

“Sorry about your girl. Wyatt said you’re living here?”

“Yeah, I am. Is Wyatt back yet?”

“Five minutes ago. He’s inside.”

A forensics guy handed me a pair of blue booties at the door, and a woman in a Tyvek suit crouched beside the table in the hallway.

“Have you found something?” I asked.

“There’s a shard of china here. Like something broke.”

So it had. “There was a vase on that table this morning. A pink one with fresh flowers in it.”

And Tim had been calm enough to clear up the mess before he left. So much for my theory about him losing his head.

In the kitchen, Wyatt was talking to another detective. Steve? Stewart? He’d just transferred to Montgomery County from Allegheny Township in Pennsylvania when I left the force. I nodded in his direction, but he didn’t recognise me.

“Anything?” I asked Wyatt as Steve/Stewart moved away.

“Stern was with his wife at his daughter’s piano recital this evening. I pretended we’d had a noise complaint from one of his neighbours and asked if they’d heard anything.”

“It wasn’t Bisham either. I told the receptionist I was you and checked the records at his gym. He didn’t swipe out until nine thirty, which means we’ve run out of suspects.”

“You impersonated a police officer? That’s a misdemeanour.”

“If you hadn’t acted like an asshole, I’d probably still be a police officer.”

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