4th of July (Women's Murder Club 4)

I banged glass and crockery around in the kitchen, feeding Martha, making coffee, eating my Wheaties.

I was half-watching the Today show on the small kitchen TV when a red banner flashed on the screen.

LIVE. Breaking News.

A somber young woman, a local TV reporter, stood in front of a redwood house, the crime scene tape behind her cordoning off the house from the street. Her voice rose over the sounds of a crowd visible at the edges of the frame.

“At seven-thirty this morning Annemarie and Joseph Sarducci were found dead in their home on Outlook Road. Their slashed and partially nude bodies were found by their thirteen-year-old son, Anthony, who was unharmed. We spoke with Police Chief Peter Stark just minutes ago.”

The scene cut away to a shot of Stark facing reporters outside the station house. The crowd jostled for position. There were network call letters on some of the microphones. This was a siege.

I turned up the sound.

“Chief Stark. Is it true that the Sarduccis were slaughtered like animals?”

“Chief! Over here! Did Tony Sarducci find them? Did the kid find his parents?”

“Hey, Pete. Do you have a suspect?”

I watched transfixed as Stark negotiated the balancing act of his life. Either tell the truth or lie and pay for it later, but keep the public calm and don’t give the killer any information he can use. I’d seen the same look on the face of Chief Moose when the DC-area sniper was at large.

“Look, I can’t say more than this,” Stark said. “Two more people have died, but I can’t tell you anything of an evidentiary nature. We’re on it. And we’ll inform the public as soon as we have something substantive to report.”

I grabbed a chair, pulled it right up to the screen, and sat down hard. Even though I’d seen so many murdered people, this case got me to the core.

I didn’t think I could have a reaction like this. I was so outraged at the killer’s audacity I was shaking.

I joined the throng outside the police station by proxy. I found myself talking at a thirteen-inch Sony and Chief Stark’s shrunken image.

“Who is doing this, Chief?

“Who the hell is murdering all of these people?”

Part Four

Trials and Tribulation

Chapter 62

THEY WERE CARRYING THE bodies out of the house just as I arrived. I parked between two black-and-whites on the lawn and looked up at a stunning glass-and-redwood contemporary.

The gaping crowd parted as paramedics bumped down the steps with the stretchers, then slid the two body bags into the open maw at the back of the EMS van. Although I didn’t know Annemarie and Joseph Sarducci, I was swamped by unspeakable sadness.

I edged my way through the mob and up to the front door, where a uniformed officer was on security detail, at ease, with his hands behind his back.

I could tell he was a pro because he gave me both a warm smile and a cold eye. I took a chance and badged him.

“The chief’s inside, Lieutenant.”

I rang the bell.

The first bar of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons chimed.

Chief Stark opened the door, and when he saw that it was me, his jaw tightened.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he said, biting down on his words. I put my heart into my reply, because it was true.

“I want to help, damn it. May I come in?”