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Back Lost Hills Save as PDF
Chapters (49)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. Contents
  5. CHAPTER ONE
  6. CHAPTER TWO
  7. CHAPTER THREE
  8. CHAPTER FOUR
  9. CHAPTER FIVE
  10. CHAPTER SIX
  11. CHAPTER SEVEN
  12. CHAPTER EIGHT
  13. CHAPTER NINE
  14. CHAPTER TEN
  15. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  16. CHAPTER TWELVE
  17. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  18. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  20. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  22. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  23. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  44. CHAPTER FORTY
  45. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  46. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  47. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  48. Author’s Note and Acknowledgments
  49. About the Author

The items didn’t prove he was anything more than a thief but they raised important questions. Did he steal the items on his service calls? Or did he come back later, when nobody was home, and keep the items as souvenirs of his secret intrusions? If so, did Tanya catch him in the act? Was that the reason for his homicidal fury?

Now Eve was even more interested in showing Coyle’s collection of knickknacks to Vickie Denhoff, the rape victim, to confirm her suspicions about his activities.

“Will I get this back?” Esther asked.

Eve nodded. “But it might be a while.”

“I can wait,” Esther said. “I intend to take it with me when I go.”

“Go where?”

“To the grave, dear,” Esther said. “I’m taking my wedding ring, the key chain, the first love letter Ira wrote to me, and the mink he bought me that I can’t wear in public anymore.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Vickie Denhoff lived in a decades-old one-story ranch-style home on Julie Lane in West Hills, which was once the western-most edge of Canoga Park until it split off into its own community in the late 1980s. The corner of West Hills that Denhoff lived in was under LASD jurisdiction, while the rest of the community fell under the LAPD’s protection.

The exterior of the house was clean and meticulously maintained. The lawn was so perfectly manicured and green, and the bushes so symmetrically trimmed, that Eve had to touch grass and the leaves on her way to the front door to be sure the landscaping was real and not plastic.

Eve had called ahead to make sure Vickie was there and so she’d be emotionally prepared for the questions she might be asked. Vickie opened the door so quickly, Eve suspected she’d been standing at the peephole watching her approach.

“Detective Ronin?” Vickie asked. She wasn’t the OCD cliché that Eve was expecting, which was a socially awkward, demure woman with a severe haircut and wearing bland but perfectly pressed clothes that were buttoned up to the neck and didn’t show any skin. She wore a loose-fitting navy-and-white gingham sundress, scoop necked with thin shoulder straps that showed off her shoulders and cleavage. Her curly blonde hair was styled in a simple messy bob.

Eve flashed her badge. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Ms. Denhoff. I’m sorry to intrude on your Saturday afternoon. This won’t take long.”

“Please call me Vickie.” She stepped aside and let Eve in. The house, unlike Vickie, did fit the cliché. It was impeccably clean, not a speck of dust or anything out of place. The furniture and artwork were all centered in relation to the walls behind them and the pieces evenly spaced. It looked like a furniture store or a display of some kind rather than a place where a person lived and relaxed. “What can I do for you?”