“You know people who know people who know scum of the earth.”
He tapped a fingertip on the dent in her chin. “Is that any way to talk of my friends and business associates? Former.”
“Damn straight. You could make some inquiries.”
“I can, and I will. But I can tell you I never associated with child killers. Or anyone who would slaughter a family in their sleep.”
“Not saying. I mean that. But I need every angle on this. The little girl? The one he killed in place of the kid downstairs? She was wearing a little pink nightgown with—what do you call it—frills around the neck. I could see it was pink from the bottom. The rest was red, soaked through with blood. He’d slit her throat open like it was an apple.”
He set his coffee down, walked to her. He put his hands on her hips, laid his brow on her brow. “Anything I can do, I will.”
“It makes you think. You and me, we had the worst most kids can get. Abuse, neglect, rape, beatings, hate. These kids, they had what it’s supposed to be, in a perfect world: nice homes, parents who loved them, took care of them.”
“We survived,” he finished. “They didn’t. Except for the one downstairs.”
“One day, when she looks back on this, I want her to know the people who did this are in a cage. That’s the best I can do. That’s all I can do.”
She eased back. “So, I’d better get to work.”
4
HER FIRST STEP WAS CONTACTING FEENEY, CAPTAIN of the Electronic Detectives Division. He popped on her ’link screen, wiry ginger hair threaded with silver, saggy face, rumpled shirt.
It was a relief to her that his wife’s recent attempt to spruce him up with eye-popping suits had gone belly-up.
“I’m catching up,” she said briskly. “You got word on the Swisher case, home invasion?”
“Two kids.” His face, comfortably morose, hardened. “When I got wind, I went to the scene myself. I got a team working on the ’links and data centers. I’m doing the security personally.”
“I like getting the best. What can you tell me?”
“Good, solid home system. Top of the line. Took some know-how to bypass. Camera shows squat after one hundred fifty-eight hours. Remote jammer, with secondary jam as the system had an auto backup.”
He tugged on his earlobe as he read data from another screen. “Visual security shuts down, backup pops within ten seconds, with alarms both in-house and at security center. Compromised the works.”
“They knew the system.”
“Oh yeah, they knew the system. Deactivated camera alarm, lock alarm, motion alarm. I’m going to pin it for you, but my prelim indicated entrance ten minutes after the camera blanked, four minutes after the secondary jam.”
“Ten minutes? That’s a stretch of time. Might’ve held, insurance the system didn’t make the signal, in-house, to the security company. Four after hitting the secondary. Is that as slick as I think it is?”
“Slick enough. They worked fast.”
“Did they know the code?”
“Can’t tell you that yet.” He lifted a mug to his lips that had MINE printed on it in murderous red. “Either knew it or had a first-class code breaker. Couple of kids not safe in their own bed, Dallas, it’s a fucked-up world.”
“It’s always been a fucked-up world. I’m going to need all the transmissions, in and out, personal and household. All security discs.”
“You’ll have them. I’m putting weight on this one. Got grandchildren that age, for Chrissake. Whatever you need on this one, you got it.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes narrowed as he sipped again. “That real coffee?”
He blinked, eased the mug out of sight. “Why?”
“Because I can see it on your face. I can see it in your eyes.”
“What if it is?”