Dead in Her Tracks (Rogue Winter #2)(4)

“Bless you, Hank.” Stevie’s eyes were damp.

Zane stood and held out his hand, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. Hank shook it and vanished.

“I didn’t know he did that,” said Stevie. “We should see if there’s something the police department can do during the holidays. I’ll get my mother to ask around for us. Heck, she’ll probably find us elf jobs for next year.”

The front door slammed. “Zane?” Kenny’s voice was an octave too high.

“Back here!” Zane exchanged a glance with Stevie. She and Kenny had gone to high school together, and she regarded him as a sort of gentle pet that needed occasional encouragement and dating advice. Her lips were pressed together, her dark gaze serious, and Zane knew Kenny wouldn’t get any slack from her.

Good. Zane wanted answers.

Loud boots clomped down the hall, and Kenny burst into the office, his lean face horrified. “I locked the door, Zane. I swear I did!”

“Someone got in, Kenny. Did you see anyone near the building before you left?” Zane asked.

“Sheesh, I don’t know. I was thinking about getting out to the motel. It’s not very often that we get a call like that. I know I locked the door, because I forgot at first. I’d driven a hundred yards down Main when I heard Sheila’s voice in my head about the door. She’s always harping on me about it. I turned around and came back, locked it, and headed out to the motel.”

Stevie met Zane’s gaze. Was he initially gone long enough for someone to get in?

“You didn’t go back inside our building after you turned around?” Zane asked.

“I wasn’t gone thirty seconds. I didn’t even turn off my car. I just ran up and locked the door, then jumped back in.” His eyes widened. “I wasn’t out of the car for more than five seconds, Zane.”

Zane had a strict rule about getting out of a patrol car with the motor running. “I’m not concerned about that right now, Kenny. But don’t do it again.”

“Did you check on Bob before you left?” Stevie asked.

“I did.” Kenny nodded vigorously. “I told him I had to run out for a bit. He told me to f*ck off, so I know he was fine.” Shock crossed his face. “Oh my God. This is all my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t left, Bob would still be alive.”

“It’s not your fault, Kenny. I don’t think this person would have let you stand in their way. You might have been killed too. What time did the call from the motel come in?”

“I logged the call just after ten,” said Kenny. “And I left within a few minutes of that.”

“Does anyone on this street have cameras?” Zane asked with a bit of exasperation, already knowing the answer.

“Not that I’m aware of,” said Kenny. “Too expensive, and you know as well as I do that not enough happens around here to warrant that sort of expense.”

Zane did know that. He’d never lived in such a quiet little town until he joined the Solitude PD five years earlier.

But three murders within a few days of one another? His gut said that Bob had killed both women, but who would dare sneak into the police station to kill Bob?

One of the victims’ unhappy family members?

“Someone was waiting and watching,” Stevie commented. “Bob was just processed yesterday. They didn’t have to wait too long.”

“Shit. I’m glad Sheila wasn’t here alone,” said Zane.

“Sheila can take care of herself,” said Kenny. “You know she keeps a .38 in her top drawer, right?”

“Very true,” said Zane. Kenny had a point. Zane had heard about Sheila’s sharp skills on the firing range, but that didn’t mean she would fire at another human. Especially one she knew.

“I saw the fingerprinting dust on the door handles out front,” said Kenny. “You’ve already collected the evidence?”

“I have,” said Stevie. “Zane was interviewing Sheila. Did you tell the morgue wagon driver we needed them here after they removed Vanessa from the motel? Hank is already finished with Bob.”

“They’re out front,” Kenny said. He looked at his feet. “How bad is . . . Bob?”

Zane studied the cop. Kenny was only five years younger than he was, but sometimes it felt like twenty. Right now he looked like a kid who just realized he’d forgotten to feed his dog for three days. “Pretty bad, Kenny. I don’t see any reason you need to go in there.”

“Am I on suspension, Zane?” Kenny peered at Zane as if afraid to make eye contact. “I understand if that’s what you need to do.”

Punishing Kenny would be like kicking that hungry dog. Zane silently sighed. “Seeing as you did lock the door, I don’t need to suspend you. I’m not happy that you left your patrol car running, but not enough to dismiss you for a few days.”

He didn’t have the manpower to cover Kenny’s shifts.

Kenny’s shoulders slumped. “Thanks, Zane.”

Voices sounded in the front lobby. The morgue crew. Zane stood. Time to get something done. He had too many murders on his desk.

“Can you supervise the removal?” he asked Stevie. She nodded and headed to the lobby.

“You know Amber Lynn’s parents?” Zane asked Kenny.