To Jim and Ben Glusing, for many years of friendship and support Chapter 1 ANA HAD TO GET THE BABY OUT OF THE HOUSE. Things were about to get ugly. She called Ralph’s sister, told her one of them would drop off Lucia in ten minutes. She packed a bag of diapers, bottles, extra clothes, Lucia’s favorite blanket and stuffed beagle. In the kitchen high chair, Lucia was finger-painting her tray with yams, her meaty little hands coated with orange goo. She’d managed to get some in the black tufts of her hair. Ana stared at the mess on her daughter’s bib and realized she was thinking about blood-splatter patterns. Looking at her own daughter, and thinking about the homicide case. Ana had to end this. Tonight, before she lost her nerve. She zipped the travel bag, unlocked the high chair tray and immediately got yams on the sleeve of her blazer. “Damn it,” she muttered. She hadn’t bothered changing from work. She’d only taken time to empty her shoulder holster and lock the service-issue Glock in the hallway closet where it always went the moment she got home. She was trying to figure out how to get the baby cleaned up without ruining her clothes when Ralph stormed into the kitchen.