Hope's Peak (Harper and Lane #1)(51)

But there is Stu, and there are the victims awaiting their retribution. And there is Ida, who is as much a victim herself as her mother was. They are the anchors keeping Harper tethered.

It’s midday, and Ida has started her music. Robert Cray spills from inside the house—his clear tenor and riotous band causing the very air to quake.

I need to leave soon, Harper thinks. She sighs and goes in.



“Run this by me again?” Stu asks, looking at the broken glass on the floor.

“Yeah,” Albie Goode says. He consults his notebook. “Victim’s name is Julie Halbrook. Her sister was due to stop by, got no answer, came around the back, saw the broken glass, and called it in.”

They walk to the hall. There are men and women working the carpet on the stairs, pulling glass fragments from the wiry fibers.

“And the body?” Stu asks, looking up to where the bathroom door is open.

“Officer attending the scene discovered her up there. She’s been moved to the morgue.”

“Right.”

Albie flips through the pages. “Uh . . . found on her knees, raped. Strangled from behind, we think. Looked like she took a good beating, too.”

Stu shakes his head. “Fuck.”

A young police officer calls Albie over to her. “Excuse me a moment, Stu,” Albie says.

“Sure, no problem.”

Stu walks outside, stretches the stiff muscles in his back. Several neighbors have gathered on the other side of the street and are talking among themselves.

He dials Harper’s number. “Hey.”

“How’re you doing?”

“They’ve already moved the body. Doesn’t matter. It’s the same MO, Jane. Aside from the fact she’s white, and there was no crown. But it’s too much of a coincidence for it to be anything else.”

“God.”

“I know,” Stu says with a sigh. “Thought I’d give you the update. We should have access to their reports in a couple of hours. We’ll see how they do with any foreign DNA they find on the body.”

“Yeah, we know how that’s going to go, don’t we?”

“Talk soon,” Stu says, closing the phone.

The neighbors to the left of Julie Halbrook are being questioned by officers on their front lawn. Stu looks to the right—that house is dark and quiet.

He ducks under the yellow tape and crosses the lawn. The doorbell doesn’t work so he knocks on the door, hard. When no response comes, he knocks again.

“We already tried that,” a young police officer calls across. “No one home.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Stu looks down the side of the house. It’s overgrown and trashy, but there’s a definite path there, stamped into the short grass. “Anyone tried the back?”

The officer shakes his head. “Want me to tag along?”

“Might be a good move.”

He heads down the side of the house, right hand behind him, over his holster. He notices a window into the kitchen. He glances in, sees no movement, then makes his way around the back.

The door is open.

Stu pulls out his gun, holds it at the ready. “Pull your sidearm, officer.”

The younger man swallows with nerves and fumbles his gun from the holster.

“Shouldn’t we call some of the others over?”

Stu steps inside the threshold and calls out. “Hello?”

Nothing moves in the house. Stu signals for the officer to follow behind, and pushes on into the house, checking every room as he goes. Dining room. Living room. Pantry.

“Stick around down here. I’ll clear the top,” Stu whispers, already heading up the staircase before the officer can object in any way.

“Police department. Anybody home?” The steps creak with every footfall, but he continues up at his own pace. There is a stretch of bare wall at the very top, then a bathroom. Next to that, a bedroom. The door is ajar. Stu nudges it wide open with his foot and goes in with his gun ahead of him, checking every corner. He backs up, walks along the landing. The second bedroom is open; there’s no one in there. “Clear!”

The officer is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. “What do you think happened here, Detective?”

Stu heads down the stairs, smiling. “Looks like they forgot to lock their back door, that’s what.”



Harper answers her phone: “Albie?”

Ida turns the music down while Harper is conversing.

“Hey, Harper.”

“Stu told me you called him about a crime scene this morning.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. I appreciate you keeping us in the loop.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“So, did they find anything on the DNA?”

“Yes. DNA from the semen was a match, Harper.”

Harper is shaking her head. “I don’t know what this guy is doing, Albie. I don’t understand him. His behavior is . . . erratic. Why now? Why go on a killing spree all of a sudden?”

“Beats me. It doesn’t make any sense to me either.”

Harper sighs. “Anything else?”

“The captain’s pulling his hair out. What’s left of it anyway. Member of the press tried to get in here.”