I would get home in the nick of time.
I’d just left the precinct after spending twenty minutes with the night detectives, where I’d discussed my theory about the killer and Tom’s results from estimating his height. It looked like a slam dunk that our pawnshop killer was the same man who had been at Kim’s funeral.
When we’d asked, Danny had said he didn’t know any man fitting that description, but there was no good reason for that stranger to be at Kim’s funeral unless he was there to enjoy the misery her murder had caused others. But why Kim and why Mr. and Mrs. Grimes? I didn’t have those answers, but the easy explanation could be that he killed for the simple pleasure it brought him. He was on a power trip in the most disgusting way, and we would treat the murders as a combined case.
After pulling into the driveway and climbing out of my Corvette, I smelled the aroma of fried chicken wafting out the kitchen window. I followed the scent as if in a trance. It smelled delicious. I walked into the house to find the dining room table set, a bucket of chicken in the middle, and all the sides surrounding it. Iced tea was next to every plate.
I kissed Mom’s cheek, thanked her and Marie for the great idea of take-out chicken, and asked for five minutes to wash up and change clothes.
Chloe and Della protested as usual.
“Hurry up, Uncle Mitch. We’re starving,” Della wailed.
“Yeah, yeah, think about those starving kids in third world countries and then cry the blues. Like I said, I’ll be down in five.”
Upstairs in my bathroom, I splashed cool water on my face and enjoyed the tingling sensation. I switched my business casual attire for strictly casual—shorts and a T-shirt—then went down to join the others. I slapped my hands together as I headed for the dining room. “Let’s eat!”
The bucket of chicken was passed around, and the sides came next. Once everyone had a full plate, we dug in.
“So, Rob Thurston, huh?”
Marie nodded with her mouth full of chicken.
“I thought about that name as I was driving home and can’t place the guy at all. He must not have been an actual friend but possibly a casual acquaintance.”
Marie frowned. “Weird that he would go out of his way to look you up, then.”
“True.” I took a gulp of iced tea. “He didn’t say where he came from or was going to?”
“Nope.”
“What did he look like?”
I got the usual shrug as my response. “I don’t know, like a regular guy. Dark hair, dressed nice, sunglasses.”
I nearly choked. “Sunglasses?”
Marie laughed. “Yeah, those things you put over your eyes when it’s sunny out.”
The girls giggled.
“It wasn’t sunny today. Was he tall?”
“I don’t know. He was standing on the second step, and I guess he was taller than me.”
“What kind of car did he have?”
“No idea, Mitch. There wasn’t a car in the driveway.”
That alone set me on edge, but I couldn’t give away my suspicions yet.
I was becoming worried, but I couldn’t say so in front of my entire family, especially if it was actually the killer who had shown up at my house. Thinking about how he knew me and where I lived and why he would knock on my door made me nervous. He had to be sure I wasn’t home. No killer would risk coming to a detective’s house if they thought that detective would answer the door. It wouldn’t make sense. I assumed it was a taunt or some warning directed at me, but why, I didn’t know. Maybe he was checking out Rue and me at the cemetery the same way we were checking him out. I would wait until Tom tweaked the photo of the man to its best possible clarity then show Marie. Granted, he was a good distance from Rue at the cemetery, but it was the only photo we had.
Later that night, I lay in bed and conducted an online search for the name Robert Thurston. Too many names came up, and I didn’t have all night to look at each one. I glanced at the clock—10:07. It wasn’t too late to get Rue’s opinion, so I made the call.
“What’s up, buddy?” he answered.
“I have an unsettling feeling.”
“Really? I’ve never heard you use that phrase. Why?”
“Marie said that man named Rob Thurston, the alleged college friend of mine that I can’t place, wore sunglasses and had dark hair.”
“Okay, I know where you’re going with this. How about his height? That would have stood out the most.”
“I know, but she said he stood on the second step. Hard to get a perspective of height when the guy stood a good six inches below Marie. I’m sure that was deliberate too.”
“I’d imagine so, but why come to your house? How would that serve any purpose for him?”
“No idea but it makes me nervous.”
“Look up your classmates in college. See if there actually was a student named Robert Thurston there. Maybe you just don’t recall the name.”
“Yeah, I’ll try that first, and then I’m going to show Marie the photo of him that Tom enhanced.”
“You sure you want to worry her?”
“Not really, so I’ll sleep on it. Talk to you tomorrow, pal.” After hanging up, I tried to relax my mind but knew I was in for a restless night. Sleep wouldn’t come easily.