My heartbeat kicks up. The backyard is dark, but there’s a light on in the office. Did the police leave it on when they left? I peer more closely. A shadow passes the office window. I instinctively reach into the pocket of Jay’s robe for my phone, but of course it isn’t there. I’ll have to use the landline in the kitchen. But what if I’m wrong? What if the shadow is just a trick of the light? A remnant of my nightmare? They’ll think I’m crazy. My heart is thrumming, pulsing in my ears. Then I see a figure, a man in dark clothing, a hat pulled low, crouch under the yellow tape, and sprint across the yard.

CHAPTER 16

Rita

I’M DOG-TIRED THIS MORNING AFTER A FIVE A.M. WAKE-UP CALL. I SHUFFLE into the station, my eyes bleary, my hair in a lopsided, messy bun. But it could’ve been worse; a couple of uniform cops spent the even earlier morning hours at the Bradley place after Mrs. Bradley placed a two a.m. 911 call. She claims to have seen a man wearing dark clothing come out of her husband’s home office and run toward the street. The forensics team went back out, but so far, they’ve found nothing.

Looks like our killer didn’t find what he was looking for the night of the murder, perhaps scared away by Mrs. Murray’s barking dog and porch light.

Mrs. Bradley sits in the little room we use when talking to distraught family members. It’s a little more comfortable than the interrogation rooms. We hope it is anyway. She sits at the little table, clutching a paper cup of tea that Chase made her in the Keurig that sits on a small counter. He laid sugar packets and a variety of little creamer cups in front of her as well. So far, she’s barely sipped her tea, holding it instead like a kid with a security blanket.

Chase pulls up the surveillance video we got yesterday from her neighbor. He clicks the keys on his laptop, and the tape rolls.

“Please take a good look, Mrs. Bradley. Is this the man you saw last night?” I ask.

Her tired eyes shift to the screen, and she follows the video man’s trek down the sidewalk.

“Mrs. Bradley?”

“It could be him.” She shivers and grips her cup with both hands.

“What seems the same?” I ask.

“Um, he seemed tall like this man.”

“What about his clothes?”

The man in the video is wearing a long coat, dark gray or black over what could be jeans. His feet are encased in boots. The hat on his head is knitted and pulled low.

“They look the same, I think.” Her eyes meet mine, as though she’s looking for approval.

“Are you sure?”

“The hat is the same kind. But I think he was wearing a shorter jacket maybe. Not a long coat like the man in the video.”

“What about his face? What could you make out?”