Chapter 1

Walking into the bowling alley took Audrey back over two decades. And not in a good way. She’d last come to Lonny’s Lanes on a high school trip for her physical education class. The class she’d liked least for many reasons. She was surprised to find the air breathable as she entered. While it still had a stale stench with hints of sweat and cigarette smoke, it was nothing like before. Back then, smoking was still allowed indoors, and the place had reeked. She’d had difficulty breathing on a prior trip and had known what to expect the second time. She couldn’t say if it was asthma, an allergy, or something else. Never having had a problem otherwise, she’d always assumed it was her aversion to the smell.

Both times, she’d immediately showered upon her return home, thoroughly washing her hair and throwing her clothes into the washing machine. Her class went a third time, but she’d gotten a note from her mother, who’d taken some convincing but had come around.

I won’t have to shower today, she thought.

Other than the smell, the bowling alley hadn’t improved much during the last two decades. It still had the same seating that had been peeling and falling apart back then, only now much worse. The overhead scoreboards had previously been boxy televisions but had now been replaced with flat screens—one of the few updates she noticed—and even those now looked old.

An officer stepped into her path and held out a clipboard. She checked his name tag. Officer Carlson. He appeared to be avoiding the oppressive heat by waiting inside. She glanced at his body camera, still not used to every uniformed officer carrying one.

“You new?” she asked. He didn’t look much older than her youngest son, Tyler.

“It’s that obvious?”

Audrey gave him a comforting grin while shaking her head. “I don’t recognize you.”

“It’s my second week,” he admitted.

“I’m Deputy District Attorney Audrey Spencer. Gregory Pope asked me to stop by.”

She jotted down her name and signature before pushing into the bowling alley, leaving him to fill in the date and time. She paused at his frown, but he waved her through while muttering something inaudible.

Judging from all the activity, the body was down lane nine at the back toward the pinsetter.

District Attorney Gregory Pope had told her the victim was Chad Ventura, a local defense attorney. Pope was out of town and wanted somebody present from the District Attorney’s Office because it was such a high-profile murder. He hadn’t yet assigned the case to her, but she assumed it was a mere formality and would treat it as her own until told otherwise.

What an odd place for a murder, Audrey thought, her high heels clicking on the grungy tile floor. She didn’t know Chad Ventura all that well, but she’d met him and had seen his name in the news countless times. She’d also heard about him from various colleagues, both while a practicing defense attorney and during her last few years as a deputy DA.

Ventura was a defense lawyer through and through, to the point guilt and innocence never crossed his mind. He only cared about what he could make the state prove. Audrey had developed a similar mindset while in private practice, but she’d always been careful not to let her sense of justice become dulled, never losing sight of how her clients sometimes left victims in their wake.

Detectives Barry Michaels and Mary Ramirez waited in a corner. Ramirez was on her phone as Michaels stared at the crime scene with a dark expression.

Several years back, Audrey had worked a case where they’d been the detectives. She’d had a few interactions with them but hadn’t worked with either since that time.

It had been a rocky start, but she’d gotten along with Barry Michaels. Ramirez, as the lead detective, had proven a difficult pill to swallow. Audrey had been overjoyed when Ramirez took sick on the first day of trial and sent Michaels in her place. Ramirez had warmed up to her by the end, but she expected that she’d be starting from square one again with the woman.

Ramirez glanced over, glowering at Audrey before her face became smooth. A mask exuding fake politeness that barely covered her underlying hostility. Audrey gave the cop a pleasant smile in return. Ramirez’s dark-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had her usual expression that said stay away or risk getting bitten. So Audrey was surprised when Ramirez headed over, affecting a welcoming expression.

“Should’ve known Pope would send you,” she said.

That’s as close as Ramirez will ever come to giving me a compliment, Audrey thought.

“How have you been, Detective Ramirez?” Audrey made her tone polite even as the air seemed to grow colder. Michaels trailed after Ramirez, now focused on his phone.

Ramirez’s phoniness evaporated, and she stared at Audrey in much the same way a cat might regard water. “I assume you know the vic is Chad Ventura?”

Audrey nodded. “How was he killed?”

“Shot in the back twice, and his head was smashed with a bowling ball.” Ramirez looked at Carlson and glared. Apparently, he was supposed to be outside because he exited after noticing Ramirez.

Audrey stared at the crime scene team, which consisted of three people. All wore protective gear to prevent contamination. Just past them, she could make out Ventura’s body on the floor. He was face down. She couldn’t see much from her present position, but what she saw was messy.

“Ventura was bowling?” she asked.

“Seems so. It’s unclear why his body was found on lane nine when he’d rented lane five. Maybe he tried to run.”

“Security cameras?” Audrey could tell Ramirez didn’t like answering questions, but she’d continue to ask.

“One out front. The footage hasn’t revealed anything, but we’ve only reviewed the last couple hours. Who knows what a thorough review might show. In back there’s a broken camera. Preliminary evidence suggests somebody shot it out. Pellet gun, maybe a BB gun, certainly not a high-powered weapon.”

“That’s where they came in?”

Ramirez shrugged. “Probably. There’s a window in the manager’s office, but it’s locked, and the desk in front is undisturbed.”

“Witnesses?”

“Nobody else was here. The guy behind the counter got an emergency call and left without notifying his boss. Apparently, it was meant to draw him away.”

“No other patrons?”

“A senior couple, but they left right before the employee. We have them on camera going out the front. Judging from their age and appearance, it’s unlikely they have anything to do with it, but we’re tracking them down.”

“Is Ventura missing anything?”

“No.” Michaels looked up. He was tall and fit with dark hair.

At least he has no latent hostility, Audrey thought.

Ramirez used this as an opportunity to excuse herself. Audrey wondered if she wanted to leave before she said something regrettable. She walked over to where a uniformed cop waited for the forensics team to finish. She’d done her duty by welcoming Audrey, which was more than expected.

“At least nothing obvious,” Michaels continued. “The killer left behind Chad’s wallet, phone, keys, and his suit coat.” He nodded toward the seats on lane five.

“So he was bowling?”

“Yes. Ramirez thinks he was here for another reason, though there’s no evidence suggesting that yet. Do you know anything about his family?”

Audrey nodded. “He’s got a wife and daughter.”

She stared at the scene as Michaels, Ramirez, and the other law enforcement officers went about their jobs. She also stayed out of the way and watched for a while before finally approaching and getting her first unobstructed view of Chad Ventura. She frowned at his corpse. The wounds from two shots into his back were obvious as were the effects. His head had been smashed to a pulp, and the bloody bowling ball lay nearby.

“Who did this to you, Ventura?” she muttered while trying not to gag.