Chapter Six
Carmel Valley, San Diego, California
Baz was waiting for them at McKittrick House, Harlan having asked him to keep watch over the teenagers. Baz had called his daughter and granddaughter to meet him there and, when Kit walked through the front door, she was met with…glitter.
So much glitter.
There was a banner that read Welcome Home, Kit!, the letters outlined in silver glitter and filled in with gold. And beneath that, a smaller banner that read Stop Getting Shot! in so many different colors of glitter that Kit had to blink.
She laughed.
Rita stood beneath the banners, her arms held wide. “She’s back!”
And then Kit was surrounded by six teenage girls, all speaking at the same time. All glad she was home, all worried about her safety.
A few years ago—hell, a few months ago—she’d have been overwhelmed. She might have even turned tail and run. But she was getting better at being touched. Getting more comfortable with the worry and care of others.
She gave Sam a lot of the credit for that. In opening herself up to him, she’d opened herself up to a lot of other people.
“Give her room to breathe,” Akiko commanded, and then she chuckled. “That’s a lot of glitter, girls.”
Baz’s daughter leaned against the archway, smiling. “We cleaned out the craft store. You’re going to be finding glitter in your…well, your everything for weeks.”
“Years,” Betsy murmured faintly, staring at the banners with wide eyes.
Rita’s smile faltered. “Mom? I’m sorry.”
Betsy gave herself a shake. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s beautiful.”
Rita bit her lip. “We did the glitter outside.”
Betsy’s relief was visible. “Then it’s even more beautiful.”
Rita laughed, such a sweet sound. “We also made dinner.” She took Betsy’s hands and danced her into the kitchen. “We warmed up meatloaf you had in the freezer. And then we cleaned. See?”
Akiko and Harlan followed them into the kitchen, but the other five girls remained, crowding Kit despite Akiko’s command to give her space.
Emma and Tiffany were fairly well settled. Dawn, Amy, and Stephie were still finding their feet, and Kit remembered what that felt like. Remembered the uncertainty of not belonging, of wondering when she’d have to move to the next house. Especially when some crisis affected the “main” family.
She could see that uncertainty on all five faces to varying degrees.
As far as Kit and her parents were concerned, every one of these girls had become “main” family the moment they’d walked through the front door.
“I’m fine,” she assured them. “And you’re fine, too.
Everyone’s safe. Everyone has a place. I promise.
” All five girls smiled, but it was tentative.
“Nobody is leaving. If you don’t believe me, ask Sam.
He’ll tell you true.” All five turned to Sam, and Kit had to laugh again. “I guess I see where I stand.”
“What she said,” Sam said simply.
“Are you hurt, Dr. Sam?” Emma asked.
“Nope. Not a scratch.”
“Your shooter isn’t a very good shot,” Dawn said pragmatically.
She was the most outspoken of the group, sometimes speaking before thinking.
Stephie gasped, horrified.
Amy nudged her hard. “Dawn! That’s awful to say.”
Dawn grimaced. “Sorry, Kit. I’ll shut up.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Kit regarded Dawn thoughtfully.
“And never shut up. You could have a point. He got me yesterday. Tried a headshot and when that didn’t work, he got me in the arm.
By that point, Akiko and Sam were shielding me.
He only missed my head yesterday because I moved at the last minute.
Today, he tried another headshot, but I was standing still, right in the doorway.
I was a perfect target.” She looked over her shoulder to Sam. “He legit missed, didn’t he?”
“He had a bad angle,” Sam said grimly. “He didn’t come close enough to the house to get a good line of sight.”
Kit frowned, going over the scene in her mind, because Sam was right. Ella’s security footage hadn’t captured him. After she, Sam, and Baz had dropped to the floor, he’d continued to fire, but there’d been no additional hits to the house. “I wonder why he stayed back.”
“That white van was parked in front of Ella’s house,” Sam said, “and it kept the shooter from getting any closer.”
“Did you shoot back at him?” Dawn asked. “Maybe he didn’t come closer because you hit him, too.”
“I didn’t fire my weapon, yesterday or today.” Kit looked at Baz, who had his feet up in her father’s recliner. “Did Marshall and Ashton get any shots off before they were hit? If he’s been injured, that could account for the missed shot. He was pretty accurate yesterday.”
“They did,” Baz confirmed. “According to the officers who were first on the scene, Ashton said he fired as he was running to assist Marshall. He wasn’t sure if he’d hit the guy or not. Seems like he did.” He gave Dawn a nod of approval. “Good thinking, honey.”
Dawn beamed. “Thank you.”
Kit bit back a smile. “So we could be dealing with an incapacitated shooter. That’s good information.”
“How are you going to find him?” Amy asked.
“Not sure yet.” She glanced at Baz. “Navarro assigned Lennox and West.”
Baz’s eyes went wide. “No fucking way.” Then he caught himself. “I mean, no freaking way.”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “We know that word, Baz. We just try not to say it around Mom and Pop.”
“You, me, and everyone else,” Kit agreed. But her mind was still on the shooter—and those extra shots. “You girls go on and help Mom. I need to chat with Baz and Sam.”
“Case stuff,” Emma said. “We get it. But you’ll come eat what we made?”
Kit gave Emma’s hair a stroke. “You bet I will. It smells amazing.”
“Just warm-ups,” Tiffany said.
“Better than Kit can do,” Baz said. “She can’t even microwave leftovers.”
Kit stared at him. “I can so.”
“Well…” Sam said, his smile brittle. “I’ve had your microwaved food, Kit. It’s not great.”
He was forcing humor for the girls, Kit knew. Now that they were home, in a safe place, he was showing signs of strain. “Everyone’s a critic. See you girls in a few.” She took Sam’s hand and led him to the sofa, close to where Baz was relaxing. “Sit down, Sam. Everything is okay.”
“I know. I just…” Sam sighed as he sank onto the sofa. “It’s not like Dawn’s question made me remember the shots. Those few seconds have been playing on constant repeat in my mind all day.”
“What did you want to chat about, Kit?” Baz asked.
“I’m thinking about those shots. He fired, hit the doorframe. We all dropped to the floor. And he kept shooting, but none of the bullets hit the house.”
Baz lowered the recliner and leaned forward, a frown on his face. “You’re right. I kept expecting a bullet to come whizzing through a wall or the open door, but none of them did.”
Sam went still. “He was shooting at someone else?”
“Maybe,” Kit said, having come to the same conclusion. “But who? And why?”
“And,” Baz added, “how can we find out without getting you into even more hot water? Your father told me what Navarro did.”
Kit sighed. “Yeah, well. I get why he’s pissed off. When it was Marshall and Ashton, I was merely gathering information to pass on to them. Mostly,” she allowed. “I do want to solve this thing, I’m not gonna lie. But now? With Lennox and West on the case? I don’t trust that they’ll do a good job.”
“West might be motivated to show you up,” Baz said. “He really doesn’t like you.”
“Why doesn’t he like you?” Sam asked.
“I worked a case with him when Baz was on vacation, years ago. I was new to the department and West thought he was going to be my mentor like Baz was. But every day I had to correct his work. Go back and reinterview witnesses, fix reports, that kind of thing. Navarro noticed and West got a reprimand. Just a verbal one. Nothing in his file, but he was mad. Called me a stuck-up bitch.”
Sam frowned. “Do you think West will do a shitty job to get back at you?”
“It could go either way,” Kit admitted. “He’s not good at getting people to talk to him. He’s like a bull in a china shop. Yells when he should listen.”
“Why is he still around?” Sam demanded.
He was incensed on her behalf. It was sweet.
“I think Navarro’s hoping he’ll retire so he won’t have to deal with him. He gives him the easy cases. Until today, anyway.” She shook her head. “I’ve always trusted Navarro, but he’s making it hard with this assignment.”
“I’ll do some digging,” Baz said.
“Thanks.” Kit closed her eyes, replaying the scene one more time. “Did either of you hear another kind of gunshot? Like maybe bigger?”
“No,” both men said at the same time.
“It was all semiautomatic rifle fire,” Baz added. “I wonder if CSU has recovered any shells. I’ll dig into that, too. Navarro can’t fire me.”
Kit smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you. You’ve always had my back.”
Baz patted her knee. “And I always will, kid. Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Linda Vista, San Diego, California
Monday, January 30, 11:00 a.m.
Sam pulled his RAV4 to the curb in front of Alf Ashton’s house. “What do you think Baz has up his sleeve?”
Baz had called them that morning and told them to be at Ashton’s house by eleven. So here they were.
Kit counted all the vehicles. “I have no idea, but it looks like there’s a party going on. Let’s find out.”
Sam opened her door and held out his hand. It was becoming easier to take it. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her cheek. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s okay.” She lifted a brow. “You saw me take the pills Mom gave me.”
He’d stayed over again, sleeping on the sofa. It seemed to settle him and…it had settled her, too, knowing he was close by.
“I know. I just worry.”
She lightly bumped her head against his shoulder. “I’m okay. I promise.”
“Have you heard back from Navarro?”
She’d texted him the evening before, telling him that they thought the shooter might have been shooting somewhere other than at them. He’d texted back that he’d check it out and that was all.
“Not since last night. I expected Lennox and West to come by to interview us, but…” She shrugged.