Chapter 8Their next stop was across the city in an upper middle-class neighborhood. Kylian pulled up behind a car parked in the driveway of a brick and fieldstone home.
“The yellow house is where our second victim died,” Kylian said as they got out of the car. He led the way to the front door of the home belonging to their witness and rang the bell.
A woman in her late fifties, Brett estimated, opened the door a moment later.
“Mrs. Johns?” Kylian asked. When she said she was, he replied, “I’m Detective Bush, from Denver. Sorry to bother you, but I have a case somewhat similar to what happened to your neighbor. I wanted to put you together with our sketch artist to see if you remember anything more than you told Detective Daniels.”
She stepped back to let them into the entryway. “It’s n
