But that didn’t account for all of the prints.

Sara walked over to the bed. She knelt down, asking Faith, “Two attackers, right?”

Faith’s voice was muffled as she dug around the closet shelves.

“That’s right.”

“Four responders?”

“Uhhh …” She drew out the word. “Yep. Two cops, an off-duty paramedic, and a chick with the fire department.”

“What about this?”

Faith turned around.

Sara pointed to a shoe print right up against Jared’s bedside table. This one was also from a boot, but it was larger than the other two and the heel had the distinctive logo of a Cat’s Paw no-slip rubber sole.

Faith turned back to the closet. She didn’t seem interested. “I’m sure Charlie got it.”

“But look at the prints. Lena was barefooted. The attackers wore cowboy boots.” She pointed to the other prints. “Two of the neighbors wore sneakers, the third one probably had on bedroom slippers, and the fourth one was wearing socks.”

Faith pulled a couple of pairs of sweatpants off the shelf. She added a T-shirt from the dirty-clothes basket. “These can pass for pajamas, right?”

Slowly, Sara stood up. “Aren’t you concerned that a third assailant might’ve been here last night?”

“Are you saying that I’m not doing my job?”

“No.” Sara felt properly chastened. “No, of course not.”

“You’re forgetting the EMTs.” Faith counted it off on her fingers. “Three crews, right? Jared was taken out first. The second shooter was next, the first was taken to the morgue, so that’s six more guys at least, which is twelve more possibilities for prints. And God only knows who traipsed in here from Macon PD.”

“Charlie told me the cops from the 911 call stayed out of the bedroom.”

“Really?” Faith didn’t sound happy, but Sara kept talking.

“He also said that the first ambulance took a while to get here. The extraneous blood would’ve been dry in five, ten minutes tops. So unless an EMT purposely stepped in the pool of blood around Jared, then walked over here, there’s no way that any of them could’ve made this third print.” Sara put a finer point on it. “Whoever left this boot print was here when the crime occurred.”

“That’s where the second assailant fell,” Faith said, her voice straining to sound reasonable. “I’m sure one of the first EMTs checked on him. Right? They wouldn’t just rush in, see one body, and leave the other two without checking on them.”

“The EMTs were most likely in 5.11 Tacticals.” Sara was familiar with the boots, which were specifically designed for paramedics and firefighters. “And even without that, the blood was obviously dry by the time they got here. You don’t see any other prints from the EMTs, do you? Not even around Jared.”

Faith gave a heavy sigh. “There was a lot going on in this room last night. There’s no telling where that print came from. All right?”

Sara nodded, but only to keep the peace. It was absolutely possible, even probable, that one of the EMTs had checked on the second assailant before leaving the house. But there was no way in hell he’d stood over the body and leaned down to do it. The EMT would be on his knees as he ran vitals. Unless he was a contortionist, there was no reason for him to wedge his foot against the bedside table.

“Look.” Faith closed the closet door. “I know you’re good at this, Sara, but this is Charlie’s scene. He’s been here practically from the minute Jared was carried out. Maybe it’s Charlie’s shoe that made the print, or one of his guys. Or maybe he’s tracked it back to an EMT who tripped or stepped where he should’nt’ve or whatever. Charlie will do all the rule-outs and trace it back to someone. You know the process. No stone unturned.”

“You’re right,” Sara agreed, but she had seen Faith lie enough to know what it looked like. Obviously, something else was going on.

Faith said, “Come on. Let’s see if my plan worked.” She left the room.

Sara assumed she was supposed to follow. She took one last look at the boot print before heading back up the hallway. Her medical examiner’s mind wouldn’t shut off just because she hadn’t done the job in years. The Cat’s Paw logo said a lot about the owner of the boot. He was frugal, the type of person who would resole a shoe rather than throw it out. Going by the size, he was at least six feet tall or more. He worked in a job that required a nonconducting, nonslip sole—probably a mechanic or electrician or builder. Analysis would show if there was any oil or residue transferred from the porous rubber sole. Known associates of the assailants could be narrowed down from there. Barring that, a simple phone call to the shoe repair stores in the area could easily generate a list of customers who’d purchased Cat’s Paw soles.

Which was probably what someone on Charlie’s team was doing right now.

Faith was right. Charlie was very good at his job. So was Faith, for that matter. If they were hiding something, it was probably for a good reason. As much as Sara felt otherwise, she had to keep reminding herself that she was firmly on the outside looking in.

Faith stood at the open front door. In the street, the motormen had surrounded Nell in a protective huddle. They all seemed relaxed and talkative. Sara was sure they were telling Nell stories of Jared’s many exploits. Whether or not they were true didn’t matter. There was no better liar than a cop spinning a yarn.

“I’m shocked they listened to me,” Faith admitted. “I told them to take up donations for the cleaning service. I figured even old Razor Mouth wouldn’t be rude enough to say no.”

Sara laughed despite herself. “That’s pretty smart.”

“One of Amanda’s tricks—but don’t tell her I’m using it. People think they’re gonna be judged if they hire someone else to clean up their mess. I think it’s a southern thing.” She walked back to the kitchen. “I’ll see if I can get them to pitch in and finish the kitchen, too. Jesus, I woulda killed him myself if I had to wash dishes out of a bucket.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Sara pointed out. The bucket had a hole in the bottom that led to the drain. A garden hose was threaded to the faucet to extend the reach. It was exactly the kind of thing that Jeffrey would’ve done—completely rigged yet unquestionably functional.

By contrast, Will would’ve been horrified by the contraption. He shared a lot of qualities with Jeffrey, but he would not rest until a project was not just finished, but finished right. Or at least the way he felt was right. It drove Will crazy that the builder who’d worked on Sara’s apartment hadn’t painted the top edges of all the doors.

“Do me a favor?” Faith was rummaging through the stack of mail on the kitchen table. “Check to see if Nell’s still outside.”

Sara stood on the tips of her toes to see down the hill. Nell was still talking to the cops. “Yes. Why?”

Faith ripped open one of the envelopes.

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Only if I get caught.” Her eyes skimmed what looked like an invoice. “Jared opened it, right? Only he can’t remember because of his head injury.”