The Fifth to Die: A gripping, page-turner of a crime thriller. J.D. Barker

slid it across the table to Clair and Sophie.

      Kloz leaned in to get a better look. “The same guy who killed Ella Reynolds did this?”

      “I don’t believe in coincidences,” Nash replied.

      “But why?”

      “That’s the million-dollar question.”

      Sophie swiped back through the images. “That doesn’t make sense. If the unsub is targeting the Reynolds family, why would he take Lili Davies? They don’t know each other. There’s no connection.”

      “There must be a connection, we just haven’t figured it out yet. What do we know about the father?” Clair asked.

      Nash stood and went to the whiteboard. He wrote FLOYD REYNOLDS and underlined it, then wrote WIFE: LEEANN REYNOLDS under it. “He worked for UniMed America Healthcare, has for the past twelve years. Sold blanket insurance and health-care policies. According to his wife, he brings home about two hundred thousand a year before bonuses, and they have no debt aside from an American Express card they pay off every month.”

      Klozowski whistled. “That’s some nice scratch. I’m clearly in the wrong line of work.”

      “We have UniMed,” Sophie pointed out.

      “They’re the number three provider in the state,” Nash told them before writing SIZE II WORK BOOT PRINT FOUND on the board under UNSUB.

      “Where?” Sophie asked.

      “On the back of the driver’s seat in the Reynoldses’ car. A Lexus LS. Looked like the unsub tried to wipe it away but must have been in a hurry. Sam thinks he put his foot there for leverage when he strangled the father.”

      Kloz’s eyes turned toward the ceiling. “Size eleven would put him around seventy-one point five inches, about six feet tall.”

      “How do you know that?” Sophie asked.

      “The average person is six and a half times taller than their shoe size. Any smaller or larger and their feet are out of proportion with their body, which means they’d have trouble walking, standing, balancing,” Kloz replied.

      “Huh.”

      “Hang with me, and I’ll school you on all kinds of trivia.”

      “No, thank you,” Sophie told him.

      Clair said, “I’m not sure I buy the no-debt thing. Maybe they don’t have traditional debt, but what about something not so traditional, like gambling or something he may not have shared with the wife? If you owe the wrong person money, I can see them making an example out of Reynolds’s daughter.”

      “They wouldn’t take him out, though,” Kloz said. “Do that, and there’s nobody left to pay.”

      “What about the wife? Maybe she owes somebody, and they made examples out of her daughter and her husband,” Sophie said. “Women bet on the ponies too.”

      “They have time for that between all the cooking and the cleaning and baby making?” Kloz said, raising his notepad to shield his face from flying pens.

      He lowered the notepad a moment later to find Clair just staring at him. “You are such a douche-nozzle.”

      Sophie was shaking her head at him. “I don’t like you much.”

      Nash studied the board. “That’s actually a good point.”

      “Thank you,” Kloz said, smiling triumphantly.

      “Not you, asshat. Sophie,” Nash said. “Clair, ask Hosman to dig into their finances in case things are amiss in suburbia.”

      “On it.”

      “Is somebody watching the mother?” Klozowski asked.

      Nash nodded. “We left two uniforms there to keep an eye on her and their little boy. There were also three news vans outside when I left. I don’t think they’ll get much alone time in the near future. Probably a good thing.”

      Clair was flipping through the images of Reynolds on Nash’s phone again. “This doesn’t really feel like a collection hit. Those guys tend to work efficiently, a double tap to the head, no mixed signals. They don’t build snowmen or spend hours positioning a body under the ice just right. Whoever this is, they’re trying to send some kind of message.”

      “They’re not afraid of getting caught, either,” Sophie said. “They’re spending a lot of time in visible places.”

      Clair nodded. “Somebody with nothing to lose has no fear, no remorse, they just act. That makes this guy very dangerous.”

      Nash drew a line between Ella Reynolds and Lili Davies. “These two are connected somehow.”

      Klozowski’s phone buzzed, and he glanced down at the display. “We’ve got a make and model on the truck from the park footage. It’s a 2011 Toyota Tundra.”

      “See if you can get a list of matches within a hundred-mile radius of the city.”

      Klozowski was already tapping at his phone. “Yep.”

      “Any luck enhancing the image of the driver?”

      “Nope,” Klozowski replied. “I tried before I came down here. The camera is old and doesn’t have the resolution.”

      Nash went back to the board, crossed out the completed items, and studied the remaining list of assignments. “This is getting long, and now we’re down a man.”

      Kloz set down his phone and raised his hand.

      “Yes, Kloz?” Nash said, pointing at him.

      Klozowski grinned. “See what I did there? Remember when Bishop raised his hand? That’s a ‘callback.’”

      “Do you have something to add?”

      Kloz nodded. “Yes, sir. I can go out in the field. I need to run to that Starbucks anyway to tackle their video footage.”

      Nash glanced up at the evidence board. “What about your other assignments?”

      “I’m not running a one-man show upstairs. I’ve got staff. I’ll bring my laptop, and they can feed information to us as they get it,” Kloz said.

      Nash nodded. “Done. Ladies, let’s divide and conquer. You take the art gallery. They should be open by now. Kloz and I will hit Starbucks and tackle some of these other items on the list. At this point, we’ve got to assume Lili is still alive. We need a break.”

      Clair stood up and stretched. “Should someone check on Sam?”

      “Nope,” Nash replied.

      Evidence Board

      ELLA REYNOLDS (15 years old)

      Reported missing 1/22

      Found 2/12 in Jackson Park Lagoon

      Water frozen since 1/2 — (20 days before she went missing)

      Last seen — getting off her bus at Logan Square (2 blocks from home/15 miles from Jackson Park)

      Last seen wearing a black coat

      Drowned in salt water (found in fresh water)

      Found in Lili Davies’s clothes

      Four-minute walk from bus to home

      Frequented Starbucks on Kedzie. Seven-minute walk to home.

      LILI DAVIES (17 years old)

      Parents = Dr. Randal Davies and Grace Davies

      Best friend = Gabrielle Deegan

      Attends Wilcox Academy (private) did not attend classes on 2/12

      Last seen leaving for school (walking) morning of 2/12 @ 7:15 wearing a Perro red nylon diamond-quilted hooded parka, white