Andy had previously met nearly everyone they’d spoken to this morning, which was both charming and time-consuming. No one would call this cop Speedy, but he was thorough and there was no doubt in her mind that if anyone saw anything remotely suspicious that they’d call Andy immediately.

Completely different than being a cop in LA where the only people Kara recognized were those she’d arrested twice.

No one responded at the first house, and Kara went up to the middle house. The stairs were exercise in itself—she certainly wouldn’t have to run or go to the gym today. She and Andy had done plenty of walking.

Kara heard two dogs bark as soon as she knocked, then the squealing of young kids. From the porch, she couldn’t see the two neighbors on either side, but there was an amazing view of the lake below.

A happily frazzled woman answered the door. She didn’t look old enough to have kids. Two labs—one black, one yellow—tried to escape and she held them each back. Two kids who looked identical except for a six-inch height difference ran behind their mom, chasing a third kid who couldn’t be much older. Three kids under five? Kara would shoot herself.

“Boys! Leave your sister alone for five minutes, okay?”

The woman stepped out, pushed the dogs back through the doorway, and closed the door. “Six months,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“Six months and the triplets start kindergarten.” She looked at her FitBit. “Five months, twenty-six days. What can I help you with?”

Kara was still hung up on triplets. She’d definitely shoot herself. Or never have sex again.

“I’m Detective Kara Quinn assisting the Liberty Lake police department on the—”

“Kara?”

Kara generally remembered people—99 percent of the time—but she didn’t recognize this woman. “Do I know you?”

“My God! I haven’t seen you in years. Your grandmother told me you’re a big cop down in Los Angeles.”

Kara ran through everyone she’d known in high school—Central Valley High School served the Spokane Valley, mostly the areas east of Spokane, including Liberty Lake. It was a large school and Kara hadn’t been particularly social.

“Ranie Anderson. Used to be Woods. Thank God I married someone with a normal last name. I still haven’t forgiven my parents.”

Ranie Woods. The name...

“Your hair used to be blond. And you didn’t wear glasses.”

“I used to bleach my hair to within an inch of its life and contacts because, you know, glasses were for nerds.” She rolled her eyes, then smiled and adjusted her stylish frames. “Glad I grew out of that. I met Charlie in college—UW, in Seattle. He’s from Tacoma. We settled here after graduation. I run into your grandmother at the store all the time—I didn’t know you were back!”

“I’m just on vacation.”

“Vacation? Your grandmother didn’t mention.”

Good, Kara thought, because she didn’t like anyone knowing her business, and Em didn’t know the meaning of the word private. Which was the primary reason Kara never talked to her about her work.