Back Victims Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Contents
  4. CHAPTER1
  5. CHAPTER2
  6. CHAPTER3
  7. CHAPTER4
  8. CHAPTER5
  9. CHAPTER6
  10. CHAPTER7
  11. CHAPTER8
  12. CHAPTER9
  13. CHAPTER10
  14. CHAPTER11
  15. CHAPTER12
  16. CHAPTER13
  17. CHAPTER14
  18. CHAPTER15
  19. CHAPTER16
  20. CHAPTER17
  21. CHAPTER18
  22. CHAPTER19
  23. CHAPTER20
  24. CHAPTER21
  25. CHAPTER22
  26. CHAPTER23
  27. CHAPTER24
  28. CHAPTER25
  29. CHAPTER26
  30. CHAPTER27
  31. CHAPTER28
  32. CHAPTER29
  33. CHAPTER30
  34. CHAPTER31
  35. CHAPTER32
  36. CHAPTER33
  37. CHAPTER34
  38. CHAPTER35
  39. CHAPTER36
  40. CHAPTER37
  41. CHAPTER38
  42. CHAPTER39
  43. CHAPTER40
  44. CHAPTER41
  45. CHAPTER42
  46. CHAPTER43
  47. CHAPTER44
  48. CHAPTER45
  49. CHAPTER46
  50. CHAPTER47
  51. CHAPTER48
  52. CHAPTER49
  53. CHAPTER50
  54. CHAPTER51
  55. CHAPTER52
  56. CHAPTER53
  57. CHAPTER54
  58. CHAPTER55
  59. CHAPTER56
  60. CHAPTER57
  61. Dedication
  62. Acknowledgements
  63. Books by Jonathan Kellerman
  64. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The two-story Spanish Colonial was three blocks south of the dead woman’s dump site. Two white Priuses shared the driveway with an identically hued Porsche Cayenne SUV. One of the hybrids bore a Santa Monica College decal on the rear window. That vehicle was dust-streaked, its interior a jumble of paper, empty bottles, rumpled clothing. The other two were spotless.

I climbed a geranium-lined walkway to a stout oak door, raised a brass lion’s-head knocker and let it drop gently onto the wood. The man who answered wore green surgical sweats, baggy in most places but snug around bulky shoulders and lifter’s arms. Fifty or so, he had thinning dark hair, a small face conceding to gravity, a gray goatee more stubble than beard.

“Dr. Delaware? Howard Goldfeder.” The hand he offered was outsized, smooth at the palms, pink around the cuticles from frequent washing. I’d looked him up last night: ENT surgeon with a clinical professorship. Same for his wife, Arlene, Department of Ophthalmology.

Heather’s Facebook page had showed her as a pixie-faced cutie nearly overwhelmed by a storm cloud of dark hair. The page was thinly utilized, with only a smattering of friends. Favorite activities: running, more running. Phys. ed. major at SMC.

“Doctor,” I said.

“Howard’s fine.”

“So is Alex.”

“Given the context, I’ll stick with Howard and Dr. Delaware.”

“What context is that?”

“You’re here to work, I’m here as Heather’s dad. Speaking of which, how about we get things straight from the outset: Are you here to counsel my daughter about finding a corpse or to pry information out of her for the police? I’m asking because I thought it was a little weird for that lieutenant to offer the services of a psychologist out of the clear blue. Also, I did a little checking and you’re a serious guy, we’re both faculty crosstown. Why would someone with your credentials work for the cops? Do you have some sort of research project going on?”

I said, “I work with them, not for them, because I find it satisfying. In terms of your main concern, which is understandable, Lieutenant Sturgis would love any new information but my focus is going to be on Heather’s well-being. How’s she doing?”

Howard Goldfeder studied me. “Okay, I guess.”

“You have your doubts?”

“She can be a high-strung kid. C’mon in.”

“Anything else I should know before I talk to her?”

“My opinion is she exercises too much.”