Peter put a careful hand on her shoulder. “You okay, kiddo?”
She looked at her hands folded in her lap. “I want to see her.”
Kitzinger was shaking her head, her face softer. “Eleanor, that’s really not a good idea.”
Peter had more than his share of experience facing death. He got out of his chair and knelt on the floor before the girl so he could see her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Talk to me, kiddo. Why do you want to see her?”
She swiped at her face with the backs of her hands. “I want to saygoodbye, you meatball.”
Well, hell, Peter thought. What was he supposed to say to that?
He looked at Durant, who sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Detective O’Donnell, can you go make that happen?”
As O’Donnell stood to leave, Kitzinger pointed at Peter’s and Ellie’s bare wet feet turning blue with cold. “Hey, Patrick? While you’re at it, see if the scene techs are done with their shoes and socks.”
12
Captain Durant followed O’Donnell out. Kitzinger stood up and pulled Peter out of the room, out of Ellie’s earshot. “She should talk to somebody,” she said. “We have a social worker on the way.”
“Good idea. She’s a mess.” Peter leaned to one side so he could check on the girl. She sat slumped in her chair, head down. “After that, Durant said she could stay with me until we figure this whole thing out. I’ll watch out for her.”
She raised her eyebrows. “The captain agreed to that? What about Ellie’s family?”
“As far as I know, the only family is her father, but he’s been out of contact for years. I’m told he’s overseas somewhere.”
Kitzinger nodded. “We’ll find him. Until we do, the regs say she’s supposed to go into temporary custody.”
“That’s not happening. What if they come after her again? This last guy was good. What if the next guy is better?”
She looked at him impassively. “You’re not the only person who can protect her. We’re the police. That’s our job.”
“And you’ve done a hell of a job so far, haven’t you?”
“We’ll talk about it after the social worker shows up.” She tippedher head to one side, looking at him like a radiologist staring at a CAT scan. “You’ve been through a lot, too. Are you okay?”
She must have seen something in his face. “I’m fine,” Peter said. Although he wasn’t.
She nodded, but not in agreement. Her eyes told him she’d seen every possible human reaction to every possible shitty situation. “Okay. Keep in touch. Especially if anything new comes up.” Kitzinger had given him her business card the first time she’d questioned him.
She went back outside. Peter returned to the office and sat alone with Ellie while the coroner and the forensics team did their work. He texted June the name Scott Enderby, living somewhere in the Magnolia neighborhood. Forty-five minutes later, O’Donnell came in with their boots and socks and a hotel towel so they could dry their feet. When their feet were warming again, Peter leaned slightly toward the girl so that their shoulders touched. Times like this, a little human contact went a long way. She leaned back against him hard.
Finally Kitzinger returned and went to Ellie. “Do you still want to see your mother’s body?”
“Yes.” Ellie’s voice was small. She grabbed Peter’s arm. “You’re coming with me, right?”
“I’ll be right beside you, all the way.”
Kitzinger led them from the office and down the covered walkway toward the rooms, telling them to keep their hands in their pockets and to watch where they stepped. Numbered plastic evidence markers stood on the pavement where brass shell casings lay shining. The rain had started again. A line of pop-up tents stood over the ruined man in the parking lane, the dead pizza driver, and the battered pizza car. The whole scene lurid under the blue and red flashers of the police cars and the bright portable floodlights of the forensics team.
They reached the room where Katelyn Thorsen had been killed.The door stood open with the lockset hanging out of it, surrounded by splintered holes. The window glass had partially fallen from the frame where the killer had fired through it. Four evidence techs stood at a distance, out of the rain, waiting. It was an extraordinary courtesy, allowing this.
Kitzinger stopped and turned to block their path. Her face softer again, although the vibrating intensity was the same. “Ellie, I really wish you wouldn’t do this. It’s going to be hard. Are you sure you want to remember her like this?”
Ellie looked up at Peter wordlessly, tightening her grip on his arm. For a skinny girl, she had some strength in her.
“It’s up to you,” he said. It would be traumatic up front, for sure. But he knew from his own experience that, over time, facing it would be better than running from it. Soon enough, other memories would rise and take over. Older memories, better memories. Her mother at her best. That was how it had happened for Peter, with his friends who’d died in combat. He’d learned to work at it, which helped.
She nodded to herself, then turned to Kitzinger. “I need to see my mom.”
