“How did you find out what happened?”

“When I left the next morning, one of the neighbors told me.”

“Who?”

“The girls who live on the first floor of her house, Kimberly and Lainey Merzinka. They’re sisters, waitresses. By the time I got out, the ambulance was gone.”

“What time was that?”

“I was out by eight. I think Linda was found closer to dawn.”

“Do you know who found her?”

“No.” Rachel checked her watch. “I hope that helps. I’ve got to get to the barn before it gets too dark.”

“By the way, I’m sorry about Gail Robinbrecht.”

“I know, isn’t that so awful? I thought she was so nice. She always made a point to include our street in her block parties, and it’s shocking to think that a serial killer struck so close to home. I lock my door and my car, now. I never did before.”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m so glad they caught him. I’m not a fan of the death penalty, but I hope he rots in prison.”

Christine shuddered but kept it to herself. “Did you see or hear anything unusual that night Gail was killed? I noticed that you have a view of her back staircase.”

“No, the police asked me that, too, but I was at the barn that night. I stayed late because my horse was colicky.”

Christine hadn’t known that horses could get colic, only babies. “Did you ever see the man they locked up, Zachary Jeffcoat, at Gail’s before?”

“No. Okay, well, I have to leave. Thank you.”

“Thanks.” Christine stepped away, feeling a tingle of anticipation as she approached the next house, 505. That was Linda Kent’s house, and if anybody had heard or seen anything on the night Linda was killed, it would be her downstairs neighbors, Kimberly and Lainey, the sisters.

Christine went to the door, which was black and matched the shutters, and she was about to knock when suddenly the door was flung open, and a blonde and a brunette in their early twenties came out, tottering on wobbly black platform shoes, enveloped in a cloud of powdery perfume.

“How funny!” the blonde squealed. “I didn’t know you were there, did you knock?”

“No, I’m sorry, I was about to.” Christine introduced herself and gave her a business card and quick cover story.

“Okay, hi, I’m Kimberly, and that’s Lainey.” The sisters had on matching uniforms, a black-and-white checked vest with no shirt underneath and black satin shorts. Lainey closed and locked the door behind them.

Christine said, “I was wondering if you could help, I just have a question or two about Linda Kent.”

“Sorry, we can’t talk, we’re late for work.” Lainey aimed the fob at an old red Jetta parked on the street. An oversized white purse dangled from the crook of her arm, and her skin glistened with glittery moisturizer.

“I’ll walk you for a minute.” Christine fell into step with them. “I’m sorry about your loss. It must be sad to have a neighbor die, so suddenly.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s sad,” Kimberly said, with a glossy pout.

“Really sad,” Lainey added. “She wasn’t even that old.”

Christine asked, “How well did you know Linda?”

“Not very well, because of our hours,” Kimberly answered, while Lainey went to the driver’s side of the Jetta. “We work at night, at Burnsie’s on 202? When you work at night, you sleep during the day. We don’t know many of the neighbors.”

“Were you home the night she fell?” Christine walked Kimberly to the Jetta, where she stopped at the back fender.

“No, our only night off is Wednesday.”

Christine made a mental note. “What time did you get home Sunday night?”

“Not ’til four. We went over a friend’s house after work and got in really late. We didn’t even hear the ambulance come the next morning, on Monday. It didn’t run the sirens, that’s why.”

“Who found Linda then, do you know?”

“Our next-door neighbor, Dom. They live right there, at 503.” Kimberly pointed with a manicured acrylic nail. “Yo, I appreciate you work for a lawyer and all, but you know Linda fell because she’s a total drunk. You knew that, right?”

“I had heard she had a drinking problem.” Christine switched gears. “By the way, the night that Gail Robinbrecht was murdered, did you see anything unusual on her staircase?”

“Gail was so the coolest! We loved her parties, and it’s horrible that she’s dead. We can’t even deal.” Kimberly grimaced. “Our mom freaked the hell out, too. She wants us to move home now.”

“Did you see anything unusual at Gail’s the night she was murdered?”

“No, we were working that night, too. We weren’t home, and I’m so glad they caught that guy. So horrible!”

Christine couldn’t let it go. “I’m asking because the back of your apartment is directly across from Gail Robinbrecht’s.”

“I know, but we never go in the backyard. We just use it for trash, and that’s where Linda used to hang, on her stairs. She smoked there.”

“Really?” Christine sensed something wasn’t adding up, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Yes, the landlord’s big on the rules. No smoking in the apartments. Linda smoked outside, a lot.”

“I wonder if that’s why she was out on her steps that late? Because she was smoking?”

“Prolly.”

“When did she usually go to bed, do you know?”

“I only know from my night off. She smoked her last cigarette at midnight, usually. I know because I could smell it. I used to smoke so I didn’t mind.” Kimberly dug in her oversized black purse. “You said you work for her lawyer, right?”

“Well, uh—” Christine started to say, but before she could answer, Kimberly had rummaged around in her purse, wedged a key from her key ring, and handed it over.

“Here, take it. She gave us her key in case she got locked out, but would you give it to her lawyer?”

“Yes, thanks.” Christine hid her excitement as she pocketed the key.

“We gotta go, nice talking to you.” Kimberly turned to the passenger door, then stopped. “Oh wait, here’s Dom now. Dom, come here a second!”