Signature Kill Read Online Free PDF Page A

where she might’ve gone?” Behr asked. Even though Kerry Gibbons thought her daughter was dead, Behr had the odds as being much better that the girl had just taken off in search of the mythical “better life.”
    “Oh, I don’t think she went anywhere,” Elisa said.
    “No?”
    “Nope.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “Her daughter, obviously.”
    “Uh-huh,” Behr said. “Plenty of young women have run away, leaving a child in the care of their mother.”
    “Not Kendra,” the woman said.
    “I see. Who’s Samantha Williams? You know her?” Behr asked in reference to one of the witnesses in the police report—the remaining one, the Village Pantry clerk, had recently returned to his native Bangladesh. So far Behr had been unable to locate the woman. All the Samantha Williamses listed in the vicinity were either too old or too young to be the likely candidate.
    “Don’t have a clue,” the woman said.
    “You know if Kendra had a boyfriend? Maybe one from out of town?” Behr had of course started his efforts by researching Pete Lambrinakos, the Greek ex-boyfriend Kerry Gibbons had mentioned. He and Kendra had broken up two years back, before she went missing, and he’d been jailed in Toledo on car theft, evading arrest, and past warrants at the time of the disappearance. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a new boyfriend in the mix. “Or a client from out of town who something romantic had developed with?” he continued. “Did she talk about wanting to get away to someplace?”
    “She didn’t have a boyfriend,” the woman said, crossing her arms. She really wanted Behr to leave, but he wasn’t going anywhere.
    “I’d like to learn a little bit about Jonesy.”
    Elisa grew even more agitated at mention of the name.
    “Ooh, he is
not
someone I’ve kept up with,” she said.
    “Maybe you can give me some background on him then, and an address where I can find him.”
    “He lives with his girlfriend—girlfriend of the moment slash wife type or common-law something or other, but you did
not
hear it from me.”
    Behind her, inside the house, a toddler walked by behind a toy lawn mower that popped colored balls inside a clear dome as she pushed it.
    “My daughter. She plays with Kendra’s daughter sometimes. Used to anyway. My husband isn’t her father.”
    “I see,” Behr said. If she turned out like her mother the little girl would have heavy eyebrows and a light mustache by the time she was thirteen, but she was as cute as a gingerbread cookie right now. And then the twice-mentioned husband appeared in the doorway beside his wife. He was stocky and powerful looking, with the first few buttons of his starched dress shirt open and a gold chain around his neck.
    “The pie is browning,” he said to his wife, and then turned to Behr and asked: “What’s up?”
    Behr said nothing.
    “The pie is fine. He’s a salesman,” Elisa Brook said.
    “What do you sell?” the husband wondered.
    There was a quiet desperation in the woman’s eyes that found Behr. The modest rambler on the quiet street must’ve been a huge step up from nights spent climbing in and out of truck cabs on Pendleton Pike.
    “Encyclopedias,” Behr said.
    “Yeah? People still use them?”
    Behr shrugged.
    “Where are your samples?”
    “Not printed books that take up your shelf space. Online. We sell an access code to the website,” Behr said.
    “Don’t you guys usually just do e-mail blasts?” the husband continued.
    Behr didn’t want to jam the woman up but wasn’t sure how long he was going to continue with the pretense.
    “We don’t like to spam potential customers,” he answered, patience near an end.
    “Well, that’s good to hear. Kid’s only three. Doesn’t even read yet, so thanks anyway.”
    “I’m gonna slide him a couple of referrals,” Elisa Brook joined in. “He said I get a free access code if I give him five names.” When it came to lying, there was nothing like a hustler who’d perfected her