fingerprints on the rear of any vehicle they stopped in case either was later needed to establish a chain of custody.
Lena worked at a police station. There were dozens of prints on the back panel.
“Lots of stairs,” Faith announced, making her way up to the front porch. Will assumed from her delighted tone that she was thinking about Lena dragging a baby stroller up the steep incline. Faith had many thoughts on strollers.
Will let Jared sprint ahead of him. He remembered these steps from a year ago. Will had been working undercover. He hadn’t known whose house he was entering. Then he’d heard a shotgun blast. Then he’d found Lena with blood on her hands.
Jared held open the front door. He took the bucket from Will and dropped it beside the hose, just inside the doorway. “I’ll tell Lee you’re here. If I don’t see you before I leave, have a good one. I need to hit the shower before work.”
“Thanks,” Faith said.
Will looked down at the hose, which had dragged grass clippings into the house. It was already coming uncoiled because Jared had not wrapped each end three times and screwed the connections together, which was the way a man was supposed to store a hose.
“Psst.” Faith’s eyebrows were near her hairline.
Will gathered she was judging every inch of Lena’s house. The public space was open floorplan, the living room at the front, the dining room and kitchen at the back, the entrance to the hall between them. Everything looked very tidy except the kitchen, which was frozen in the exact same stage of remodeling as it had been when Will was here before. The cabinets were still unpainted. Boxes of laminate flooring were still waiting to be installed. At least an actual sink had replaced the bucket under the faucet.
Will allowed himself a petty sense of satisfaction. He’d gathered that Jeffrey Tolliver had been the kind of man who didn’t quickly finish construction projects. By contrast, Will would not sleep until the last nail hole was puttied and the third coat of paint applied.
“Psst.” Faith was at it again. She nodded toward a photograph that looked like Lena was kissing another woman on the mouth.
Will said, “Sibyl, her twin sister. She died a few years ago.”
Faith looked mildly disappointed.
“Will?” Lena was making her way up the hallway. Her hands were pressed against the walls for balance. She was normally a very petite woman, but the pregnancy had rounded out her face and taken some of the luster from her dark brown hair. Jared was right about the difficult homestretch. Lena’s normally light brown skin was the color of a tube sock. Her eyes were bloodshot. She looked exhausted. Nothing glowed about her but misery. The swell in her belly reminded Will of a softball crammed inside of a straw.
“Wow,” Faith said. “You’re so huge! You must be due any day now.”
For some reason, Lena looked aghast. “It’s next month.”
“Oh.” Faith gave the word some space. “You’re carrying so low. Is it twins?”
“No, uh, just one.” Lena gave Will a panicked look that he didn’t quite understand. She was smoothing her hands over her belly the way you’d calm a frightened dog. She asked Faith, “Who are you?”
“I’m Faith Mitchell, Will’s partner.” Faith vigorously shook Lena’s hand. “Sorry I jumped straight in. I’ve got two of my own. I loved being pregnant.”
Okay, so, she was fucking with Lena.
“You said one more month?” Faith’s voice was filled with false exuberance. “That’s such a fractious time. Right before your whole life changes forever. My first one went two weeks past his due date. I thought I was going to explode. They say you forget the pain, but my God, it was like sitting on a table saw. I hope Jared likes cuddling.”
Faith laughed. Lena laughed. Only one of them meant it.
Will suggested, “Should we sit down?”
Lena looked relieved as she padded toward the couch.
Faith waited until the last second to ask, “Could I have a glass of water?”
Lena struggled between sitting and standing.
“I’ll get it.” Will hoped his expression conveyed to Faith that she needed to knock this off.
It did not.
She kept babbling as Will walked into the kitchen.
He easily found a glass in the cabinet because the doors were stacked on top of the fridge. He turned on the faucet. The floor had clearly been swept, but grit bit into the soles of his shoes. Grout. The sub-floor showed gouges where tiles had been ripped up. It made sense to