“We’re here,” Andy said, and pulled in front of a small A-frame cabin on a slope. “I was here last night, just after midnight. Jeffrey Ogdenburg, principal of Central Valley High.”

“Our alma mater.”

“Was he there when you graduated?”

“No, it was Susan Carpenter. Bitch.”

“She wasn’t that bad. I had her for English my senior year, before she was the principal.”

Kara glanced at him. “You were never in trouble.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you would hate her, too.”

Andy glanced at his patrol computer. “Odgenburg is thirty-nine, single, lives alone. He said he’d be going to his sister’s this morning, would keep the place locked up. The patrol drove by six times between midnight until now—no sign of trouble.”

They got out and approached the door, rang the bell. No answer. It was already after nine in the morning, but some people liked to sleep in.

Kara wasn’t one of those, but sleep had never been her friend.

Andy knocked loudly. “Mr. Ogdenburg, this is Detective Andy Knolls with the Liberty Lake Police Department. We talked last night.”

No answer.

He knocked again.

No response.

Kara said, “I’ll walk around, see if his car is in the garage. Maybe he already left.”

She took out her gun. Andy seemed surprised, but she wasn’t one to take chances, especially when a killer was out and about. They didn’t know what to expect, but she had an itch—and she always trusted her instincts.

She walked around to the side and looked in the garage window. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she spotted a lone car. A Toyota Land Cruiser.

She went back to the front. “He own a Land Cruiser?”

“There is one registered to his name.”

“It’s in the garage.”

Andy looked stricken, as if he knew what they would find inside.

“I need to call it in.”

“We have probable cause,” Kara said. “I have your back, Andy.”

She doubted that Andy had ever drawn his gun in the line of duty. He would likely go to the range, practice every month, but it was clear he didn’t think he would ever have to shoot. Small town cop with a small town girlfriend and a small town life.

Kara almost felt sorry for him. Like he still believed in Santa Claus and she was going to burst his bubble.

Andy radioed in their intentions, then pounded on the door. “Police! We’re coming in!”

Kara tried the door. It wasn’t locked.

She opened it and went low to the right. Andy entered.

She smelled blood.

“We need to clear the house,” she said.

“He’s dead.”

“We don’t know what’s dead yet,” she said sharply. “We need to clear the house now.”

Andy pulled his gun—belatedly, she felt, which irritated her—and went left, toward the living area and kitchen.

That left the bedrooms for Kara and dammit, she knew that’s where the dead body would be. Because most likely the killer sliced open Ogdenburg while he was sleeping.