There. The binder my adoptive father had compiled so many years ago on Harry Day’s case. Quickly flipping through the pages, the photos, hastily skimming the various detective notes. Until I found it. A report from the coroner’s office.

One hundred and fifty-three.

Just as my sister had predicted—remembered?—known.

Our father’s own collection. One hundred and fifty-three preserved strips of human skin contained in nearly three dozen mason jars.

I picked up the phone and dialed Detective Warren.

Chapter 21

YOU THINK SHANA DAY, an inmate who’s been locked up for nearly thirty years, is somehow connected to this so-called Rose Killer? In fact, Shana may even be the one calling the shots?”

“Yes.”

“Even though she’s in solitary confinement? Has no fan base? No pen pals. Not even a fellow prisoner who claims to like her?”

“Exactly.”

“All right.” Alex took a seat across from D.D. at the kitchen table, where she was currently icing her shoulder. “I might be just a lowly crime scene analyst, but color me confused.”

D.D. had just returned home from the morning interview with Shana, followed by her and Phil’s chat with reporter Charlie Sgarzi. Glancing around the house it was clear Alex had been equally busy while she was out. Brand-new state-of-the-art locks gleamed on the front door, while the windows had been reinforced and a wooden dowel now effectively blocked the back sliders. He’d also taken the liberty of updating their home security system with several motion-activated cameras they could access from their smartphones. D.D. felt a little bit like a contestant on a new reality TV show, but given that they were due to bring Jack home in just a matter of hours . . .

“Okay,” was all she’d said.

Alex had nodded in satisfaction.

So this was their new world order. Living like prisoners/TV show contestants till they caught the murder suspect who’d broken into their home to personally deliver a get-well-soon card.

“Of course you’re confused,” D.D. stated now. “You’re an evidence junkie, and at the moment, that’s kind of what we’re lacking. Actual, you know, evidence.”

“Yes,” Alex agreed.

“Here’s the deal: The obvious smoking gun would be a note from Shana Day to our murder suspect, the supposed Rose Killer. Based on what Superintendent McKinnon told us, however, written correspondence is hardly necessary for open and honest communication from behind prison walls. Chances are, Shana has developed some kind of coded system based on library books, or socks in her window, or the number of bites left on her food tray. Beats me. It’s been done, though, many times and by many inmates. Given how smart Shana is, no reason to assume she’s not able to reach beyond her cell door.”