The Next Victim (Kali O'Brien series)

by Jonnie Jacobs

  “Yeah, he is.” In ways Kali had perhaps failed to see before.

  Bryce was an attractive guy, a “stud muffin” as her friend Margot put it. Dark hair, dark eyes, a sexy smile, and a body that was lean and muscular. They’d met working a murder investigation when she’d been on special assignment with the DA’s office. With an ex-wife and, as rumor had it, countless on-again-off-again girlfriends, he wasn’t someone Kali had taken seriously when they’d first started going out. But somehow, without her fully realizing it, the relationship had grown. She still found him too brash at times, too hardheaded at others, and a bit of a cowboy when it came to the fine lines of law enforcement. But she’d also discovered that he could be generous and tender and kind, and that he seemed to care for her a great deal. For someone who was used to keeping her emotional distance, it was an unsettling realization.

  “Guess I’d better call him,” Kali said.

  “Tell him thank you from me, would you?”

  “Will do.” Kali started to leave, then turned back. “Did John ever talk about a woman he was dating? Someone from New York named Susan Harris? She called here this morning looking for him.”

  “I don’t know her name, but he did say he’d met someone who lived in the East. She came to town on business sometimes.”

  “Sounds like the same person,” Kali said. “John broke a date with her in order to have dinner with Sloane the night she was killed. I wonder why.”

  Sabrina shrugged. “Must have been important. Or maybe Sloane insisted. She liked to call the shots.”

  Kali went into the bedroom and called Bryce.

  “Thanks for the flowers,” she said when he picked up. “And the sweet thoughts. Sabrina says thanks, too.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “It’s weird. I’d go for weeks, even months, without talking to John. I rarely thought about him. Now that he’s gone, I feel this incredible sadness and loss. On some level, I feel closer to him now than I ever did. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Bryce said. “Family has a hold on all of us, whether we like it or not.”

  Kali sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. “I think I’m just now beginning to realize that.”

  Growing up, she’d seen her home life as a collection of individuals—a mother who’d deserted those who loved her by taking her own life, a father who’d done the same by losing himself in a bottle. John and Sabrina, she knew now, had been battling their own demons, but at the time she’d seen only that they ignored her. In recent years, though, and especially in the few days since John’s death, family had taken on new meaning to her.

  “When are you coming back?” Bryce asked.

  “Another week probably.”

  “That long?” Bryce sounded disappointed.

  “Sabrina’s husband and kids will be arriving any minute. The funeral is tomorrow, and then we have to finish cleaning out John’s house. There are also loose ends about the murders. I guess I need some answers, even if nothing comes of it with the cops.”

  No matter how damning the evidence—and knowing that one of the women in the photo was Olivia Perez didn’t help matters— Kali couldn’t see John as a cold-blooded killer. “We may never learn what really happened, but I have to try.”

  “I understand, but I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  <><><>

  Peter and the kids arrived in a flurry of boisterous energy. Kali hadn’t seen any of them in over a year, and she was surprised by how much the boys had changed. Joey, at eighteen, had grown from a gawky kid into an athletic-looking young man who towered over her. Todd, fifteen, was no longer the shy little boy she remembered. His blond hair was shoulder length, his pants baggy, and the earphone jack from his iPod appeared to be permanently attached to his ear. He greeted her with a thumbs-up and a “Yo, Aunt Kali.” Even Jeremy, whom she still thought of as a baby, was very much the teenager at fourteen.

  Peter gave Kali a kiss on the cheek. Sabrina, she noted, didn’t get much more.

  “I’m sorry about John,” he told Kali. “It’s a rotten shame what happened. And that stuff about Sloane . . .” Peter shook his head sadly.

  He’d aged in the last year, as well. His dark hair was noticeably grayer and thinner, the lines on his face more pronounced. He’d never been what Kali considered handsome, but there’d always been an easy, blue-blood confidence about him she’d found appealing. Now he looked like a miscast actor playing the role.

  With a nod toward their boys, Sabrina shot her husband a silencing look. “How was the drive down?”

  “It’s not much of a drive,” Peter said tersely.

  Sabrina gave a martyred sigh. “I was just asking.”

  “And I answered.”

  Kali winced at the tension in those few short remarks. “I’ve got stuff to do in the kitchen,” she said, excusing herself.

  Jeremy had shoved a stack of boxes out of the way and turned the television on to a football game. All four males gravitated toward it. Sabrina shot daggers in Peter’s direction, then turned and followed Kali to the kitchen.

  <><><>

  Dinner was casual. Salad and take-out pizza, with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream for dessert. A far cry from the formal, solemn affair Kali had been dreading. They shared memories of John, fond remembrances as well as irksome habits, all delivered with a mixture of tears and laughter. Then the conversation moved easily to other topics, from SATs to soccer to video games. With enough wine, the tension between Sabrina and her husband seemed to ease. Or maybe the wine Kali had drunk only made it seem that way.

  After they’d finished eating, the kids commandeered the television and DVD player while the adults remained around the kitchen table talking. At one point Kali went outside for some fresh air. She was surprised when Todd followed a few minutes later, minus the iPod.

  “So, you’re in high school now,” she said to him. “Pretty exciting.”

  “Yeah.” It was about as unenthusiastic a response as Kali could imagine, but she realized her own comment had been pretty inane. It was the sort of meaningless banality people had thrown at her when she was Todd’s age, and she’d vowed not to inflict it on future generations.

  Todd dropped into the patio chair next to hers. “Is it true the cops think Uncle John killed a couple of women?”

  Oh, God. How was she supposed to answer? She didn’t know how much Sabrina had actually told them. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “It was on the news. Did he?”

  “They were investigating the possibility,” she said, treading lightly.

  “What do you think?”

  There was a reason she’d never had children, Kali decided. She clearly wasn’t up to the task. Todd was looking at her intently, his strong features pinched, his blue-gray eyes troubled.

  “I don’t know,” she said finally.

  “My mom refuses to talk about it. She says John never killed anyone and that’s the end of it.”

  “She knew him better than I did.”

  “Why? You’re his sister too. Didn’t you guys get along?”

  “We got along okay,” Kali said. “It’s just that we never . . . we never really connected, I guess.”

  Todd shifted in his chair. “I figure the cops wouldn’t be saying he did it if they didn’t have something to back it up.”

  Kali nodded. “But lots of times the police are wrong. Even when they go so far as to arrest someone. And they never arrested John.”

  “Still”— Todd wiped his palms on his cargo pants—“it’s just so hard to believe. Uncle John was always good to me. I mean, he was good to all of us, but him and me, we really hit it off. We’d shoot skeet, hang out, talk about music and stuff. Both black sheep of the family, I guess.”

  Kali couldn’t help smiling. “You’re a black sheep?”

  Todd shrugged. “I’m not a Goody Two-shoes like Joey or a baby like Jeremy. I kind of do my own thing.”
r />   Kali was sure Sabrina would dispute the goody-two-shoes label. She’d listened to her sister vent enough about all three boys to know they each presented challenges. But she hated that Todd, who clearly identified with his uncle, was now struggling with the possibility that John might be a killer.

  “John was good to you and he cared about you,” Kali told her nephew. “That’s what you need to remember. The other stuff, well, maybe we’ll be able to get some answers at some point.”

  “Find out if he really killed them, you mean?”

  “Yeah. I guess in my heart I can’t believe he did it either.”

  Todd kicked the sole of his shoe against the flagstone patio. “What about his death?”

  “What about it?” Again, Kali wasn’t sure how much Sabrina had told the kids. Did they know about the drugs and alcohol?

  “Do you think he did it on purpose?”

  “Committed suicide, you mean?” Kali shook her head. “No, I don’t. It’s not that the thought never crossed my mind, but there are better ways.” Better ways to kill yourself. What a conversation to be having with a fifteen-year-old. There were pitfalls to parenting she never imagined.

  Todd rocked in his chair, a sort of upper-body nod of agreement. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just that it’s pretty hard to drown in a backyard pool.”

  “It happens.”

  “Like if he slipped and hit his head or something?”

  She nodded.

  They sat in silence for a moment. The air was warm, the moon just a sliver.

  “I’m going to miss him,” Todd said.

  “Me too.”

  Todd rocked forward and stood. “Well, thanks. You’re easier to talk to than my mom.”

  “Any time.” Kali looked at the slender, shaggy boy she’d first held when he was only hours old. He was taller than she was now, but his eyes held the same solemn bewilderment they had fifteen years earlier. Her heart went out to him. “I mean it,” she added. “Any time.”

  Todd headed back inside and Kali followed not long after. Sabrina and Peter had gone off to bed. Todd had joined Joey and Jeremy in front of the television. Kali said good night and wandered off to her own room. It wasn’t until she was under the covers that she remembered the porn DVDs she’d found in John’s collection. Short of barging in and retrieving them, which was bound to raise questions, she could only hope the boys didn’t go looking for something new to watch.

  Chapter 18

  As strains from a recording of The Byrds’ “Turn! Turn! Turn!” filled the funeral hall, Sabrina inched closer to Kali in the pew and grabbed her hand. “I’m not sure I can do this,” she whispered.

  “You’ll be fine,” Kali told her. “Just remember to breathe.” Breathe and try not to think about what’s happening—it was advice that had carried Kali through a lot over the years.

  Kali’d had no idea what kind of turnout to expect, but as she turned and surveyed the room, she was surprised to see more than a handful of faces. She wondered how many had actually known John and how many were simply curious onlookers or media personnel. They’d passed by news cameras coming in, and she was sure there were reporters inside as well.

  The music ended and she turned her attention to the front of the room.

  The service was simple and relatively brief. Peter talked of John’s energy and sense of adventure. Joey spoke of his uncle’s kindness and goofy sense of humor. Kali added a few words about their childhood, recounting tales of John’s determination in sports; his love of all things mechanical; and his devotion to the family dog, Sierra. Sabrina had insisted she wasn’t up to the task, but several of John’s friends offered words of their own. A. J. Nash, the attorney from Logan Foods whom Kali had met earlier, a neighbor she’d talked to by phone, a man with whom John played tennis. Fond memories with a sprinkling of light moments, and nothing of the terrible crime of which John had been accused, nor of the unseemly manner of his death.

  Kali got through her own short speech by following the advice she’d given Sabrina. It wasn’t until she sat down again that the reality of John’s death took hold anew. She’d lost a brother—her only brother—without ever knowing him.

  Following the service, when coffee and cookies were served in an adjoining room, Kali finally had a chance to study those who’d come to pay their respects. She recognized only a smattering of faces: A. J. Nash, of course; John’s secretary, Alicia; a few neighbors; and Graciela, the housekeeper, who huddled uncertainly near the door. She left before Kali had a chance to thank her for coming.

  People mingled in small groups, then briefly sought out Kali and Sabrina to offer condolences and a few kind words about John, though it was clear all were uncomfortably aware that John had been a murder suspect. There were so many questions Kali wanted to ask. Had any of them known John was abusing drugs? Had he seemed depressed in the weeks before his death? Had he talked to anyone about his difficulties with Sloane? And most of all, did they know why he might have had a photo of Olivia Perez hidden inside the pages of his office dictionary?

  Instead, she nodded numbly and shook the hands of strangers, many of whom seemed to have known her brother better than she had.

  At one point, Nash approached, and Kali introduced him to Sabrina.

  “It was good of you to come,” Kali told him. Not many people from Logan Foods had. She hadn’t really expected that Reed would, although a part of her had held out hope, but she had thought more of John’s coworkers might have shown up.

  “Were you and John close friends?” Sabrina asked Nash.

  “I wouldn’t say we were close, but we shared an interest in cars. Did a couple of track days together, in fact.” Nash scratched the fair skin of his cheek. “We’d go out for a drink on occasion. If I needed financial advice, I’d sometimes run it by John. If he had a legal question, he’d come see me. As I told your sister the other day”—he nodded in Kali’s direction—”John was well liked in the company. Dedicated and hardworking. Someone whose opinion I respected.”

  “Thank you. That’s nice to hear considering . . .” Sabrina paused and bit her lower lip. “Considering everything.”

  Nash cleared his throat, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I understand the girl’s family might be pursuing legal remedies.”

  “How’d you hear that?” Kali’s gaze had drifted to a baby-faced black man standing alone by the coffee urn, but now her attention snapped back to Nash.

  “I got a call from their attorney,” he said. Kali’s expression must have revealed her surprise because he hastened to add, “It was a fishing expedition. I didn’t tell the woman a thing, I assure you. In fact, I tried hard to discourage her.”

  “Fishing for what?”

  He shrugged. “Whatever she can get, I imagine. She’s not entitled to police records, not officially at least, so she’s got to build her case from scratch.”

  Assuming the lawsuit went forward. Kali was hoping it didn’t come to that.

  Sabrina’s displeasure was evident from her expression. “The attorney’s got a lot of gall, if you ask me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nash murmured, shaking his head in apology. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Not today. But I wanted you to know that we, Logan Foods, that is, aren’t involved in this in any way. I can’t speak for Reed personally, but the company isn’t taking sides.”

  “We appreciate that,” Kali told him.

  “I’m available if there’s any way I can help.” Nash’s hazel eyes met hers warmly. “John was someone I considered a friend.”

  When he’d gone, Sabrina fanned herself with her hand. “Nice man, but I wish he hadn’t brought up that stupid lawsuit.”

  “I think he was trying to be helpful.” Kali appreciated the fact that Nash had come to the funeral while most of John’s coworkers hadn’t. And he’d gone out of his way to be friendly.

  The hall was thinning out. Kali saw Peter glance at his watch a couple of times. He and the boys were heading back to Scottsda
le that afternoon, and Kali knew they were eager to get going.

  She turned to Sabrina. “Why don’t you go on back to John’s with Peter? I’ll finish up here.”

  “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “There’s hardly anyone left but staff. I won’t be long.”

  When Sabrina had gone, Kali wandered over to the refreshment table, suddenly feeling drained. She wasn’t hungry, but she picked up an oatmeal cookie and nibbled on it anyway. It was sugary and tasteless. She wrapped what was left in a napkin and dumped it in the trash.

  The baby-faced black man she’d noticed earlier joined her and held out a hand. “Doug Simon,” he said. “You’re John’s sister?”

  She nodded and shook his hand. “Kali O’Brien. Were you a friend of my brother?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly.”

  “Why are you here, then?” She wondered if Simon might be a reporter, though he was hardly the most inconspicuous person the newspaper could have sent.

  “I’m afraid that came out wrong. I didn’t mean we weren’t friends.” He smiled to put her at ease. It was a warm smile, accompanied by a twinkle of his eyes. “Can we talk privately?”

  “Now?”

  “It won’t take long.” Simon took her elbow and led her aside where their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. “I actually never met your brother, but I did talk to him by phone.” He paused. “I’m a private investigator.”

  “A . . . PI?” It was the last thing she’d expected. Her mind set off in a spin. “John hired you?” Then another, more worrisome thought struck her. “Or was he the subject of your investigation?”

  That smile again. “No, he hired me.”

  “What for?”

  Simon rubbed his palm against his pant leg. “First I want to apologize for crashing a funeral like this. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I just wanted to get the lay of the land before talking to you.”

  Kali shook her head in confusion. “You’ve lost me.”

  “John asked me to run a background check on a couple from Oregon. Ray and Martha Adams.”