Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Sienna.”
“What?”
“You’re babbling like a guilty criminal.”
Sienna let out a small embarrassed laugh. “I was, wasn’t I?” She sighed. She hadn’t told Kat that she’d once thought him her soul mate. She hadn’t mentioned that they’d planned to marry and that he’d left her at the altar. Those details weren’t pertinent, and frankly, she’d tried long and hard to forget them. “The truth is, it’s a little strange for me being back here. I never thought I’d return, and for many years, he was the main reason for that. Now . . . I’m dating someone back in New York. And there’s a good chance I’m going to marry him. It’s not like I still have a thing for Gavin. But returning here is almost like this odd clash of past and present. I think it’ll take at least a few weeks to feel on solid footing.” She smiled faintly. She wasn’t a secretive person. Sienna confided in those she found trustworthy, and she enjoyed deep conversations about topics that mattered far more than surface chitchat. She always had. But she rarely opened up to people quite as quickly. This is an exceptional situation, though, she reminded herself. Yes, she’d been thrust into a new job, a new partnership where they’d potentially be expected to entrust the other with their very life. And she wanted Kat to trust her, especially considering there would be an understandable cloud of suspicion surrounding her based on the circumstances of her transfer.
Kat’s expression spoke of understanding. “I get it. Thank you for opening up to me.” She tilted her head. “So why did he seek you out, and how did he know you were back in town? Oh, wait, the press conference?”
Sienna nodded, smiling distractedly at the way Kat connected dots a mere moment after a question had left her lips. “Yeah. Anyway, I took the opportunity to ask him about the cards, and he pointed me toward Lucia Pechero, the fan club president.” There was a snippy tone in her voice that she hadn’t quite intended, but Kat laughed.
“Dang, that’s gotta burn when your ex has a legit fan club.” She laughed again.
Sienna gave an exaggerated eye roll but couldn’t help but join Kat in a soft laugh of her own. “It’s not the ideal circumstance to have shoved in my face, I gotta be honest. You should have seen the woman swoon at the very mention of his name. I was sort of hoping for something more along the lines of him living in a van down by the river.” She grinned. And damn, it felt good to make light of this with someone after being alone in her head with it for . . . well, since she’d accepted the transfer to Reno. She felt a sudden affection for Kat and was certain they were going to be not only partners but friends as well.
And because of the feeling, her world righted just a tad.
“So is it possible our suspect brought Gavin Decker into this case purposefully?” Kat asked. “The cards . . . and now the fan club president. You.”
“I don’t know,” Sienna answered, a strange twinge in her gut. “I just moved here, though. This can’t be personal. If anything, it seems like it’s been in the planning stages for longer than I’ve been in town.”
She almost didn’t notice Ingrid approaching them, but that would have been impossible, given that her boss was a six-foot Amazon with legs for days. Her smile slipped when she saw the look on Ingrid’s face. “We might have a name for the victim found under the overpass.”
“How?” Kat asked, standing, all laughter wiped from her expression as well.
“We just got a call from a bar slash restaurant in South Central. One of their cocktail waitresses hasn’t shown in three days, and the manager caught the press conference replayed this morning. He’d assumed she was a no-show and written her off but says the sketch looked familiar.”
South Central. Not the worst area in Reno but far from the best.
“I have a meeting with the chief shortly,” Ingrid said, handing Sienna two pieces of paper. The top one had the name Reva Keeling written on it and, below that, an address. “That’s where she lives. Her DMV photo is so old it’s hard to tell if it’s our victim.” Sienna looked at the second printout, taking in the picture of the young woman with the vibrant smile and mostly unlined face. If it was the victim they’d found tied to a chair under the overpass, Sienna had been correct in her assessment about hard living. Because normal living didn’t age a person this dramatically.
“At least we can do a welfare check since she hasn’t shown up for work,” Sienna said.
Fifteen minutes later Kat and Sienna pulled up to a ratty-looking apartment complex, garbage strewn along the curb. There was a skinny, tattooed guy smoking a cigarette leaning on a car in front, and when they passed by him, he whistled and called, “Damn, Charlie’s Angels. I’m guilty! Arrest me. Take me into your custody.” He somehow made the word sound pornographic, pairing it with a lewd movement of his hips. Charming. He laughed, but they both ignored him as they approached the front of the building and headed up the outside steps to apartment 4b.