Gina looked up at the next rung. She would have to let go of the one she was holding in order to reach the next one. She would have to bring her foot up one, then spring upward to catch the next one with her hand.

She thought about what a miserable failure she had been in gym class. Marissa had been athletic enough to climb up the dreaded rope that hung from the gym ceiling. Gina could barely climb the stairs without tripping.

Holding tight she struggled to get her leg up where it needed to be. She panted a few breaths, then sucked one in, held it, and pushed herself upward, reaching for and grabbing the next rung up.

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.

Gina hooked her arm through the rung and clung tight, her consciousness dimming again with the pain. If she got out of this alive, the first thing she would do would be to hire a personal trainer.

Of course, she would be destitute and homeless, but if she lived in her car, maybe she would be able to afford it.

Marissa’s laughter filled her head.

You are such a dork, Kemmer!

At least I keep you amused.

You’ll make it, G. You’ll make it, and you’ll train with that guy Lance at Ultimate Fitness.

Hot Lance with the washboard abs and round butt?

And the piercing blue eyes and tight workout shorts.

Will he fall in love with me and sweep me off my feet?

No, but he’ll screw your brains out!

Gina’s own laughter startled her.

What the hell did she have to laugh about?

She had twenty-three feet left to go.

Chapter 58

58

There were years of friendship contained in the box Mendez had pulled out of Gina Kemmer’s house. Years and years.

Vince spread the contents of the box out on a table that ran along one wall of the war room. He had removed the boxes of files pertaining to the See-No-Evil cases and put them under the table. One crime at a time.

Gina’s box contained framed photos, photo albums, and packages of photographs that had never made it out of the envelope from the drugstore that had developed them. All of Gina Kemmer’s life condensed into three-by-five and five-by-seven rectangles.

Vince went through them, separating them into groups—as to his best guess, at least. Family, school, friends, vacations.

Gina came from a nice, normal-looking family. Dad wore a crew cut. Mom wore cat-eye glasses. There were three kids: two boys and a girl—the youngest. They lived in a brown ranch-style house in Reseda, according to the loopy handwriting on the back. Reseda September 1969.

They vacationed at Big Bear and Yellowstone. There was Gina with Minnie Mouse at Disneyland. Robbie, Dougie, and Daddy at a Dodgers game in June 1972.

Funny the things that built a life. All these little moments knitted together. Another Christmas, another Easter, another Halloween.