“What is it?” Harrison asked.
“A hunch,” she said. “A hope, maybe.”
She walked back to the roll-top desk in the sitting area and opened it again. In the back, there was a small basket. A few pens stuck out, as did a basic single-sheet personal checkbook. If they keep a house this tidy, I’d assume their checkbook is in the same condition.
She took the checkbook out and found that she was correct. The figures were kept with meticulous care. Each transaction was written very legibly and with as much detail as possible. Even ATM withdrawals were accounted for. It took her about twenty seconds to realize that this checkbook was for some sort of secondary account and not for the Sterlings’ primary checking. At the time of their death, the account held a little over seven thousand dollars.
She looked through the check register for anything that might give her some sort of clues but nothing jumped out at her. She did, however, see a few abbreviations that she did not recognize. Most of the transactions for these entries were for amounts of around sixty to two hundred dollars. One of the entries she did not recognize had been written out for two thousand dollars.
While nothing in the register seemed immediately curious, she remained hung up on the abbreviations and initials that she was not familiar with. She snapped a few pictures of those entries with her phone and then returned the checkbook.
“You have an idea or something?” Harrison asked.
“Maybe,” she said. “Could you please get Dagney on the phone and ask her to task someone with pulling up the Sterlings’ financial records over the last year? Checking accounts, credit cards, even PayPal if they used it.”
“Absolutely,” Harrison said. He instantly pulled out his phone to complete the task.
I might not mind working with him so much after all, Mackenzie thought.
She listened to him speaking with Dagney while she closed the roll-top desk and looked back toward the stairs.
Someone walked up those stairs four nights ago and killed a married couple, she thought, trying to envision it. But why? And again, why were there no signs of forced entry?
The answer was simple: Just like with the Kurtzes, the killer was invited in. And that means that they either knew who the killer was and let him in or the killer was playing a certain part…acting like someone they knew or someone in need.
The theory felt flimsy but she knew there was something to it. If nothing else, it created a fragile link between the two couples.
And for now, that was enough of a connection to go on.
CHAPTER SIX
While she had been hoping to avoid speaking to the families of the recently deceased, Mackenzie found herself working her way down her to-do list faster than she had expected. After leaving the Sterlings’ house behind, the next natural place to go for any answers was to the closest relatives of the families. In the case of the Sterlings, their closest family was a sister that lived less than ten miles from the Kurtzes’ townhouse. The rest of the family lived in Alabama.
The Kurtzes, however, had plenty of family nearby. Josh Kurtz had not moved very far away from home, living within twenty miles of not only his parents, but his sister as well. And since the Miami PD had already spoken extensively with the Kurtzes earlier in the day, Mackenzie opted to check in with the sister of Julie Kurtz.
Sara Lewis seemed more than happy to meet with them, and although the news of her sister’s death was less than two days old, she seemed to have accepted it as well as a twenty-two-year-old could.
Sara invited them into her house in Overtown, a quaint one-story house that was little more than a small apartment. It was decorated sparsely and held the sort of edgy silence that Mackenzie had felt in so many other houses where someone was dealing with recent loss. Sara sat on the edge of her couch, cupping a mug of tea in her hands. It was clear that she had done her fair share of crying recently; she also looked like she hadn’t slept much.
“I assume that if the FBI is involved,” she said, “that means there have been more murders?”
“Yes, there have,” Harrison said from beside Mackenzie. She frowned briefly, wishing he had not so willingly divulged the information.
“But,” Mackenzie said, interjecting before Harrison could continue, “we of course can’t make any solid claims about a connection without a thorough investigation. And that’s why we’ve been called in.”
“I’ll help however I can,” Sara Lewis said. “But I already answered the police’s questions.”
“Yes, I understand, and I appreciate that,” Mackenzie said. “I just want to cover a few things they might have missed. For instance, do you by any chance have any idea how your sister and brother-in-law were in terms of financial standing?”
It was clear that Sara thought it was a strange question but she did her best to answer nonetheless. “Okay, I suppose. Josh had a good job and they really didn’t spend too much money. Julie would even scold me sometimes for spending too frivolously. I mean, they certainly weren’t loaded…not from what I know. But they did okay.”
“Now, their neighbor told us that Julie liked to draw. Was this just a hobby or was she making any money off of it?”
“More of a hobby,” Julie said. “She was pretty good, but she knew it wasn’t anything spectacular, you know?”
“How about ex-boyfriends? Or maybe ex-girlfriends Josh might have had?”
“Julie has a few exes, but none of them took it hard. Besides that, they all live halfway across the country. I know for a fact that two of them are married. As for Josh, I don’t think there were any exes in the picture. I mean…hell, I don’t know. They were just a really good couple. Really good together – disgustingly cute in public. That sort of couple.”
The visit felt too brief to end but Mackenzie had only one other route to pursue and she wasn’t quite sure how to refer to it without repeating herself. She thought back to those odd entries in the Sterlings’ checkbook, still unable to figure them out.
Probably nothing, she thought. People keep their checkbooks differently, that’s all. Still, worth looking into.
Thinking of the abbreviations she had seen in the Sterlings’ checkbook, Mackenzie continued on. As she opened her mouth to speak, she heard Harrison’s phone vibrating in his pocket. He quickly checked it and then ignored the call. “Sorry,” he said.
Ignoring the disturbance, Mackenzie asked: “Would you happen to know if Julie or Josh were involved with any sort of organizations or maybe even clubs or gyms? The sort of place they’d routinely pay fees to?”
Julie thought about this for a moment but shook her head. “Not that I know of. Like I said…they didn’t really spend a lot of money. The only monthly fee I know of that Julie had outside of bills was her Spotify account, and that’s only ten bucks.”
“And have you been contacted by anyone like an attorney about what happens with their finances?” Mackenzie asked. “I’m very sorry to ask, but it could be pressing.”
“No, not yet,” she said. “They were so young, I don’t even know if they had drawn up a will. Shit…I guess I have all of that to look forward to, don’t I?”
Mackenzie got to her feet, unable to answer the question. “Thanks again for speaking with us, Sara. Please, if you think of anything else in regards to the questions I’ve asked you, I’d appreciate a call.”
With that, she handed Sara a business card. Sara took it and pocketed it as she led them to the door. She wasn’t being rude but it was clear that she wanted them to leave as quickly as possible.
With the door closed behind them, Mackenzie found herself standing on Sara’s porch with Harrison. She considered correcting him on