“If he was careful, and she hasn’t seen his face, maybe not. But I suspect if he hasn’t killed her, he’s going to, so he doesn’t care what she’s seen.”

“But she’s heard things. She must know something that would lead to his identification, so why keep her alive?”

“She reminds him of somebody.”

“Me?” Avery asked.

“She looks like you,” Jordan said. “The other three victims also resemble you. But unlike them, you have not used drugs recently. That seems to be a trigger for this guy.”

“If there was ever a reason to stay sober, it’s that.”

For the first few years, the foundation under sobriety was brittle. It did harden over time, but there would always be cracks that left the entire structure vulnerable.

When she and Avery arrived home, Jordan could not shake a sense of unease as she walked herself to the front door, fished keys from her purse, and after some fumbling, opened the door. Inside the house, she kicked off her shoes and took a moment to set them by the entryway table. Keys in purse, she put both on the same table. Sally had said, during their hospital walks, that organization was important.

Avery’s phone rang, and her voice dropped low. Judging by the sound, she had turned away. Jordan moved into the kitchen, washed her hands, and set up a pot of coffee to brew.

“Hey, do you mind if I duck out for a while?” Avery asked.

Jordan did not want her leaving, not for her own sake but for Avery’s. But if she had learned anything with her sister, holding on too tight fostered resentment. “No, not at all.”

“I shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of hours.”

“I can survive.” For a long time after Avery’s first overdose, Jordan had grilled her sister constantly about her comings and goings. She could not relax until her sister returned and she was satisfied she was sober. Two years ago, after Avery’s last hit, she had refused to come home after treatment because the pressure of facing Jordan had been too great.

Though twenty-five months of sobriety was not a record, it was a solid base. And Jordan needed to give her sister space. “Have fun.”

“Thanks.”

“Be careful.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not talking about the regular kind of danger,” Jordan said. “Until we figure out this case, you need to be extra careful.”

“I will.”

Jordan reached in her back pocket and dug out a penknife. “Take this.”

“It’s a knife.”

“I always carried it on the job. Came in handy a few times. Saved me once. Carry it, and if you need to use it, do it.”

“But this is yours.”

“I’ve got another one.”

Avery did not fire back her normal quip. “Okay. I’ll keep it close.”