mouth to mouth. That’s when I noticed the thing wrapped around her neck. And then I saw bloody footprints on the floor. I realized someone had done this to her. That’s when I ran outside.”
He stopped talking, breaking down again. Jessie nodded sympathetically and gave him a moment to recover. She glanced out the kitchen window, from where she could clearly see the Strand. In fact, she had a clear view of Randy Fuller, who was still sitting on his porch, sipping his drink. The man was leaning forward, obviously watching the activity two doors down, while trying to maintain an air of casual disregard.
Jessie was about to try again with Carl when Ryan hobbled in the back door, holding his jacket and looking exhausted and in pain.
“What happened to you?” she demanded, standing up to help him. He quickly waved her off.
“I’m okay,” he assured her, though his voice sounded hoarse. “But I could use a glass of water.”
She got up to look for a glass but the uniformed officer stepped forward to do it. As he moved past Ryan, his eyes, wide with surprise, lingered on the detective’s back. Jessie moved over to get a better look.
“You have blood seeping through the back of your shirt,” she said, hoping she sounded detached, though she didn’t feel it.
“Yeah, I had a bit of an altercation. You mind if I sit down?”
She pulled out a chair and he settled into it gingerly. From behind him, Jessie could see that he had some kind of gash in his upper back just above his left shoulder blade. The officer put the glass of water on the table in front of Ryan.
“Could you see if there’s a medic available?” she asked the officer before turning her attention back to Ryan. “Explain.”
First he took a big glug of water. Then he dived in, explaining what had just occurred, including his close call at the hands of a man who easily overpowered him.
“By the time I got the glass out of my back,” he concluded, “he’d disappeared from sight. I called in a description. But with all the empty houses here over the summer, he could be hiding anywhere.”
The officer returned with an EMT, who promptly removed Ryan’s shirt and began studying the wound. After cleaning it up, he got out a suture kit.
“It could have been a lot worse,” the EMT said. “I can sew it up but I recommend you go to urgent care to get it checked out when you get a chance.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said, clearly relieved. “I also have some shards in my palms. Do you think you could pull those out afterward?”
The EMT nodded. While he did his thing, Jessie looked outside and saw that Randy and his margarita hadn’t moved.
“You mind if I check on something?” she asked Ryan. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “I’ll check to see if anyone’s spotted my friendly man in black.”
Jessie nodded approvingly, though something about Ryan’s demeanor was unsettling. As she walked back to Randy’s place, she realized what it was. Ryan looked shaken by the encounter in the cabana. Jessie felt a bit of fear creep into her own gut.
Almost nothing shook Detective Ryan Hernandez. If this man in black had, he must really be bad.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kelly’s murderer, still clad in the silk pajamas, peeked out the window from behind a curtain. He was four houses south of the Landingham place but from his vantage point in the third-floor master bathroom, he could see everything the cops outside were doing.
He’d been lucky. He knew that the owner of this condo, the middle of the three massive units, was out of town. He also knew that the idiot kept his key in a fake plastic rock mixed among others just outside the door to the place. He knew that because he’d stayed in this condo before, more than once. Lastly, he knew that even in pajamas, with bloody feet, he could get here before the cops even made it out of the station.
In fact, he’d been just unlocking the condo door when he heard Carl Landingham’s wail of anguish just half a block north. It was terrible and thrilling at the same time. His heart was still beating wildly at the memory of it.
As with the annoying woman at the Bloom house, he hadn’t intended to kill the girl, at least not at first. After all, he was minding his own business. She was the one who’d startled him