Kit had fled from Bishop, defensive armor firmly in place.
And Bishop had collected Kit’s DNA from the pink and green twisty straw, to send to an old friend. Kit’s father was in prison for child rape. A familial DNA search would turn up his name.
Or at least, it should.
Just emailed you the results, but I’ll spoil it for you. There wasn’t a match.
33
how to grieve in public
Kit hadn’t expected James to invite the others. Darius, maybe, but not Holden. Yet all four of them trooped solemnly through the rolling green grounds. Afterwards, Darius’s sister and her girlfriend would be joining them for dinner.
That was a lot of family. But meeting Holden’s parents had gone okay. Kit wasn’t as nervous this time.
“They’re this way,” James said, snagging Kit’s hand.
The warmth of his touch was grounding. For both of them, probably. A gentle April breeze ruffled Kit’s hair, and the sky gleamed a delicate blue. The red tulips in James’s other hand were the brightest things in sight.
Nazario Bradach’s disappearance had been all over the news the past few weeks. Zero concrete leads, plenty of conspiracy theories. Bishop said SCPD was probably afraid to investigate. The Rat Kings had a few cops on a leash. They would be wondering why the leash had suddenly gone slack.
Felicity Carrow’s disappearance wasn’t even a whisper. Darius had a professional acquaintance—the less known about them, the better—maintaining her property for the next few months. By the time anyone realized she was gone, her disappearance shouldn’t be linked to Nazario’s.
Killing people was more complicated than Kit realized. If you didn’t want to get caught, at least.
James’s family rested in a secluded corner of the cemetery. Behind dark hedges, dragonflies skimmed a rippling pond. A marble bench sat in front of a marble tower as tall as James—the Zhou family columbarium.
Kit had had to look up the word. He’d never been to a cemetery like this before, to visit someone specific instead of just reading all the old names. All his mourning was done in private, twisted up in self-loathing, then numbness.
He wasn’t sure how to grieve in public. Whether he should stay silent and solemn, or say something comforting, or—
“Nice place,” Darius commented casually.
“Dad picked it out.” James squeezed Kit’s hand. “They never expected to need it so soon, but that was one less thing to figure out afterward.”
Holden wandered away to stare into the water.
Oh. Kit should just act normal.
“I like the pond,” Kit said, which sounded inane once it was out of his mouth.
But James grinned. “So did Dad.”
After another squeeze, James let go of Kit and knelt in front of the marble. A wrought iron holder stuck out near the bottom, and James slid the bouquet in.
Silence breathed through them again. Kit let himself relax, without expectation.
“Hey, Mom. Dad. Crystal and Iris.” James’s voice was quiet but unselfconscious. “I got them. I won’t get into the details. Crystal and Iris don’t need to hear that. But you’d probably be proud, Mom. We’re more alike than we should be.”
Kit didn’t believe in any afterlife. The Zhou family wasn’t listening in. But these words weren’t for them. Kit wanted to touch James again, then realized he already was. His hand had moved unbidden to James’s shoulder, which rose and fell with a deep breath.
“Also, I met someone.” James’s voice turned sly. “I’ll tell you more about him next time I visit. He’ll get embarrassed when he’s right here.”
“I will not,” Kit started, then sighed when Darius laughed behind him. “Yeah. I will. Do you want a minute alone?”
“Just a minute,” James answered.
Letting go of his shoulder didn’t feel like letting go.
