“Then, it’s upstairs.”
“Did you add Detective Cardoso to the list?”
“She’s all set.” He dipped down and kissed her. “Be right back.” He left her office and she turned back to her wall of photos.
Ding-dong.
She looked through the peephole and stared at Lyle.Are you the killer?She swung open the door. “Hi, Lyle. C’mon in.”
“Hey, Detective, how’s it going?” He stepped into her small foyer.
“It’s nice outside. Let’s sit on my back deck.”
As she headed toward the kitchen, he said, “That’s impressive.”
Lyle stood in her foyer, staring at the wall of crime scene photographs in her office. She walked back over. “Go on in.”
He set his backpack down, walked over, and began eyeing the pictures, one at a time. “You’ve got the newest ones, from the third victim.”
She thought she heard his breathing shift.
While adjusting his glasses, he eyed the pictures of Parker on her desk. “Who’s this?”
“A POI—person of interest—whose alibis cleared.”
Lyle pointed to a photo of Casey. “Looks like you’re tracking someone. Who’s that?”
“Another POI. That photo was taken at The Dungeon. Ever heard of it?”
“No, I don’t go clubbing. Do you think he killed these women?”
I do think he killed those women.She studied his eyes, framed behind those oversized glasses.Are you Casey Quinn?
“You’ve never mentioned any hobbies,” she said. “Besides school and writing, what else do you do?”
“I don’t have time for much else. I’ve been thinking about getting a dog, so I’ve done some research on that.”
“What about taking pictures? Are you an amateur photographer?”
He laughed. “No, but if I had a dog, I’m sure I—”
Stryker appeared in the doorway. “Hey, babe, I found them.” His gaze slid to Lyle. “How ya doin’?”
“Lyle Barnham, Stryker Truman,” Emerson said, then added, “Lyle’s been interviewing me forDMVMagazine.”
“Nice.” Stryker tossed her a nod. “I’m taking off.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” she said.
After Stryker left, Lyle asked, “Is he your boyfriend?”
Emerson wasn’t answering his questions, especially the personal ones. “Do you need me to fact check your story or sign off on anything?”
Kneeling, Lyle ruffled through his backpack. “That’s weird. I must’ve left it with Detective Cardoso.”
“The entire piece?”
“I only brought the first two articles with me.” Lyle stood. “Sorry I wasted your time.”
