Family Lies

Chapter One

La Jolla, San Diego, California

Saturday, January 28, 4:30 p.m.

Present day

Police psychologist Sam Reeves wasn't certain about what they were about to do, but he believed in homicide detective Kit McKittrick and she was certain.

So . . . here they were, knocking at the front door of a woman who'd claimed to know about Akiko McKittrick's mother. It was an intriguing mystery, to be sure.

Sam glanced at Akiko, who was biting her lip. "You okay?"

They were supposed to have met Mary Sherman at a diner about two blocks away, but the woman hadn't shown up. Kit had, however, traced Mrs. Sherman's initial phone call to Akiko and now knew nearly everything about her, including the woman's home address.

Kit insisted she hadn't broken any rules to get the information, that the woman's phone number had been easily traced on the internet. Sam had checked that out for himself and it was true. Whoever Mary Sherman was, either she was not adept at covering her tracks or she had nothing to hide.

She was forty-six years old and of Japanese descent, as was Akiko, so that part worked. Mary had been married to Leo Sherman for twenty-four years and was the mother of twenty-two-year-old fraternal twins-two daughters. Both were seniors at San Diego State-one was majoring in accounting as their mother had, and the other was a pre-med student, following in their father's footsteps. Leo Sherman was a cardiologist, and Mary had her own accounting firm.

Sam had acquired all this information in about fifteen minutes of online searching. They seemed to be an ordinary family.

Akiko probably would have been fine meeting Mary Sherman on her own, but Kit's spider-senses were telling her to accompany her sister. Kit almost always listened to her gut, for which Sam was grateful. Her intuition had saved her life several times.

Sam was along to pay attention to what Mary shared, as Kit wasn't sure if she could do that and support Akiko at the same time.

Sam was just happy to assist. He loved helping Kit, largely because she rarely asked for anyone's help. That she trusted him gave him hope that they did, indeed, have a future together.

He wanted a future with Kit more than he'd ever wanted anything. But he knew her well enough by now to know not to rush her. She'd get there in her own time. He could wait. She was worth it.

"I don't know if I'm okay or not," Akiko murmured as the three of them gathered on the woman's front porch. "If she got cold feet, maybe I need to respect that."

Normally confident, Akiko had been uncertain about meeting this woman ever since Mary Sherman had first made contact. But, above all else, she wanted to learn more about the mother who'd left her at a firehouse thirty-two years before.

Kit arched a blond brow. "We can turn around right now."

Akiko winced. "But you took today off just for this. Just for me."

Kit smiled at her sister and the sight warmed Sam's heart. Kit wasn't overly demonstrative, but she loved her family fiercely. It was one of the many things Sam found so appealing about the homicide detective who'd stolen his heart nearly a year ago.

"I'd take off a million days just for you," Kit said, stroking her hand down Akiko's long black hair. "If you want to set up another meet for a later date, I'll be there for you."

"Thank you, but I've come this far. I might as well see it through while I have you two. I really need to settle this so that I can get back to work." Akiko ran a charter fishing boat business. She took anglers out to do deep-sea fishing off San Diego's coast, but her nerves over Mary Sherman's call-amplified by Kit's gut telling them that something wasn't quite right-had kept her from taking her boat out. She'd canceled a few charters in the weeks since receiving that call. She met Sam's gaze. "I'm okay."

He didn't really believe her, but he nodded anyway. "Then let's knock."

Kit did so and the three of them stood for a moment, waiting. But no one came to the door. Kit leaned in to put her ear to the door.

"Noth-"

Her words were cut off by the crack of gunfire.

Sam stared for a moment at the bullet hole in the door, just inches from where Kit's head had been only moments before. Then his brain kicked in and he yanked both Kit and Akiko down, but there was no cover. There was no porch railing and only a small overhang.

They were sitting ducks.

Another shot was fired and Kit made a muted noise of pain.

"Kit!" Akiko screamed.

"It's not bad," Kit said with a grimace. "Just a graze. We need to get out of here."

Sam moved to cover Kit's body with his own, looking around for a better place to hide. It would take them too long to get to their car.

Inside, he thought. We go inside.

He lurched to his feet, prepared to use his shoulder to bust through the door. Which is gonna hurt. But that didn't matter.

Someone was shooting at Kit.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Akiko cover Kit with her body, her hand fumbling at the left sleeve of Kit's blazer, which was already dark with blood.

No more shots were fired, but that didn't mean they were safe.

Sam put one hand on the doorknob and braced himself for the pain of shoving open the door. But the doorknob turned and he fell into the house.

It was dark. Too dark for this time of day. And too quiet.

And none of that mattered right now.

"Move," he barked, taking care not to touch Kit's left arm as he scooped her up and entered Mary Sherman's home. Akiko followed and closed the door behind them, visibly trembling.

"Kit?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Kit bit out. "Just a graze."

"Liar," Sam said mildly, even though his heart was pounding with fear and adrenaline. "Let me look. Akiko, call 911."

That Kit didn't argue about calling 911 told him that it was far more painful-and potentially far more serious-than she was admitting.

Carefully he removed her blazer, leaning up to hit the light switch so that he could better see. But no lights came on.

The power was off, which explained why it was so dark and quiet. No appliances hummed and the living room drapes shut out the waning afternoon sun.

Akiko put her phone on speaker so that she could shine her cell's flashlight on Kit's arm.

"Thanks," Sam said, listening to the 911 operator assure Akiko that help was on the way as he examined Kit's arm as gently as he was able. "It appears to be a through-and-through. Entry and exit wounds."

"Listen to you," Kit said with forced lightness. "Sounding like a cop."

Sam pushed a lock of hair off her cheek. "I've been hanging out with the best. The bleeding has already slowed down. I'm going to try to find Mary Sherman and see if she's got any bandages. You two stay here."

Kit gripped his jacket sleeve. "Stay here with us. Someone has been in this house. Power's off and it's on in the other houses on the street. I could see lights."

So had Sam. "I need to find bandages to dress this wound."

"You said the bleeding had slowed. Stay here. Please. I don't know where the shooter is. I can defend us here." Kit drew her service weapon from the hip holster he'd rarely seen her without.

"Kit," Sam protested. "Let me have that."

She shook her head. "Right-handed, so I'm okay to shoot if necessary. Just . . . stay down. Please, Sam."

Sam sighed. It was pointless to argue with her when she got that stubborn look on her face. "Fine." But he twisted on his heels to take in the rest of the room, the flashlight from his phone illuminating a very normal-looking living room.

Someone was planning a trip to Germany, based on the two travel books and one German-English dictionary on the coffee table. Someone wore size thirteen shoes. And someone-

He sucked in a breath. "Oh shit."

"What?" Kit demanded.

"What?" Akiko echoed.

"What's happening?" the 911 operator asked.

"Mary Sherman," Sam said, recognizing her from her Facebook photos. He shined his light on the woman who lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. The wall behind her was streaked with blood, the source of which appeared to be the bullet hole in the middle of the woman's forehead.

"Oh shit," Kit muttered.

"Now we know why she didn't show up at the diner," Akiko said, her voice hitching up in fear.

Even though the windows were covered with drapes, Sam kept his head down as he crawled across the floor and touched Mary's throat. "No pulse. She's dead." Which he'd surmised from the bullet hole, but miracles sometimes happened.

Kit reached for her blazer. "I need my phone. I have to call Navarro."

Sam crawled back to her. "I'll call him. You stay quiet until the medics arrive." He took Akiko's phone, keeping his touch gentle since Kit's sister appeared to be holding herself together by a thread. "Ma'am?" he said to the operator. "This is Dr. Sam Reeves. I'm with Detective Kit McKittrick, who was shot. We took shelter in the home of Mary Sherman, who I just discovered dead. The body is still warm and the blood on the wall behind her is still dripping, so I think her death was quite recent."

"It was probably her shooter who shot at me," Kit said loudly.

"I'm sending help," the operator said. "Please stay on the line."

"We will," Sam promised. But he needed to call Navarro, so he muted Akiko's cell and used his own to call Kit's lieutenant.

"Dr. Reeves?" Navarro said when he answered. "What's wrong?"

Sam sighed. "Found a body."

Navarro groaned. "You two. It's always you two."

"Three today. Akiko's with us."

"All right. Tell me what you know."

Sam filled him in, hearing sirens approach as he came to the end of his explanation. "Medics are here. What should I tell the cops who show up?"

"To touch nothing. I'll call the ME and CSU. I'm coming to the scene. I'll make sure they don't take you away in cuffs."

"Thank you," Sam said dryly, because that had happened to him in the past. Just once, but that was enough. "See you soon."

He ended the call and unmuted Akiko's phone. "The medics are here," he told the operator. "Thank you for your assistance." Then he ended the call and returned Akiko's phone. "You okay?"

"No," Akiko said honestly. "What just happened?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," Kit said.

"Will they let you?" Akiko asked. "Conflict of interest and all?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them," Kit said. She glanced at Sam. "You okay with me conflicting the interest?"

He cupped her cheek, gratified when she leaned into his touch. "As long as you know that I'm not letting you do this alone."

Hell, he wasn't going to leave her side. Someone had shot her. Shot. Her. It was starting to sink in and Sam thought he might be sick.

Until she smiled at him. "I know I'm not alone. Not anymore."

His spinning mind began to settle and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Good."

San Diego, California

Saturday, January 28, 6:05 p.m.

"Connor, I swear I'm fine," Kit said through clenched teeth. Her San Diego PD partner's voice was panicked, so she was trying not to lash out.

"I leave you alone for two weeks-two fucking weeks, Kit. And you're shot. Shot!"

She glanced over at Sam, who leaned against one wall of the ER cubicle. He was busy texting someone but looked up as though feeling her gaze.

He smirked. Hang up, he mouthed, then pointed to the ER doctor who was impatiently waiting.

"Look, Connor, it throbs, but it's nothing like your owie." Her partner had been shot on the job two weeks before and was looking at months of recovery time. He'd nearly died and Kit remembered her own panic at all the blood he'd lost. "My arm's no longer bleeding and they're going to stitch me up."

"Which would be easier to do if you got off the phone," the ER doctor said. He raised his voice, leaning toward her phone. "Connor, she's fine. I promise. Goodbye. Hang up, Miss McKittrick."

"Gotta go," Kit said, ending the call. "He was worried."

The doctor nodded as he prepared to suture her wound, which was a through-and-through. Sam had been right.

"I got that," the doctor said. "Boyfriends tend to get worried."

Kit's gaze flew to Sam, who just rolled his eyes.

"Um," she said uncertainly. "Connor's not my boyfriend. Sam's my . . . boyfriend." She'd not said the words out loud before.

It wasn't as difficult as she'd expected. And so worth it when Sam's smile lit up his face.

The doctor glanced at Sam as he lifted a syringe with a huge needle, inspecting the drop of moisture at the huge needle's tip. "Then who's Connor?"

"My partner at work."

"This is Detective McKittrick," Sam said. "She's Homicide."

"Oh." The doctor looked suitably impressed. "I've heard of you."

"You have?" Kit asked weakly, unable to take her eyes off the needle. "That's a big needle, isn't it? Can't you use a smaller one?"

The doctor chuckled. "Scary detectives are always scared of tiny needles."

"That isn't tiny," Kit argued. "It's fucking enormous."

"It's truly fucking enormous," Sam said and, to his credit, he didn't laugh. Out loud anyway. But his green eyes were crinkled behind his Clark Kent glasses. "Hold my hand. I won't let him hurt you."

"Asshole," she muttered, but she took his offered hand and shut her eyes tight. "Why are you giving me a shot?"

"To deaden the pain of the sutures," the doctor said. "It'll only feel like a pinch."

Kit clenched her teeth once again. "Tell me when it's over."

"It's over," the doctor said. "But if you don't like needles, keep your eyes closed for now."

"Okay." She turned her head to one side, just in case her eyes opened accidentally. "Did you talk to Navarro, Sam?"

He squeezed her hand lightly. "I did. He arrived shortly after you left with the medics."

He hadn't wanted to leave her side, but Akiko had been borderline hysterical, so he'd let her sister ride in the ambulance with her. He'd stayed to answer all the lieutenant's questions.