“Well, if the killer guy’s in prison, at least you don’t need to worry about that part. It does kind of sound like a coincidence—two different houses, plus a thousand miles and a couple of decades apart. And it seems like neither bloodstain would have been of any interest to the police if it weren’t for the unusual circumstances. I mean . . . you basically forced that Long Island cop to go all CSI on a house that had been hosting construction workers and realtors for weeks, because who could say no to you?” He gave her a playful grin.

“And of course you mean because of my mad lawyering skills.”

“Obviously. And it sounds like that Kansas detective’s family did something hinky, forcing blood samples that might not be connected to any crimes into the databases.”

“The daughter apparently followed in her father’s footsteps. She’s an NYPD detective. About my age, I think. Several years ago, before they caught the killer, she did a big media blitz trying to drum up new leads on the case. From the little I’ve read, it sounds like her father killed himself, but she wouldn’t accept it. She comes across as pretty obsessed.”

Scott flashed that goofy, flirty grin again. “Sounds like someone else I know—which could mean that she’s absolutely brilliant.”

“Basically they want me to believe that some random person who cut themselves in that house in East Hampton also randomly left some blood in a house in Kansas twenty-three years ago. And that none of it has anything to do with Hope, or with this serial killer.”

He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. “It is possible.”

“Or . . . there’s a connection.” Her focus returned to her laptop.

She found herself stopping on a quote from Ellie Hatcher about her father’s death. I’m telling you, I knew my father at a fundamental level. He wasn’t perfect, but he understood that my brother and I needed him. He wouldn’t have left us voluntarily. And he was also a homicide detective to the core. I am not exaggerating when I say that he was haunted by the College Hill Strangler case. He believed he had a solemn duty to the victims to find their killer. Even if he wouldn’t stay alive for us, he would have stuck it out to see that promise kept.

Maybe Lindsay didn’t know Hope’s background up to fifteen years ago, but for fifteen years, she had known Hope at a fundamental level. And she knew Hope would not shut her out unless she was in serious danger.

She was going to find her friend.

12
Monday, June 21, 8:52 a.m.

NYPD detective Ellie Hatcher entered the Thirteenth Precinct to the sound of raised voices and the sight of her partner, J. J. Rogan, waving his palms, demanding that the couple in front of him “get control over yourselves.”