In the office, Mr. Johnston sat on a stool, breathing hard. April whipped out a notebook and pen, readied herself.

“Okay, tell us all about it.”

“I normally take the cash to the night drop every evening, but not last night.” He scrubbed his wrinkled forehead, clenched his tired eyes shut. “Last night I closed shop and just went to my granddaughter’s birthday party. I was running late and figured it wouldn’t hurt this once.”

He dropped his hand with a slap on his jeans leg. “I’ll be damned if my register wasn’t cleaned out this morning. It’s all gone.”

April’s eyes flicked upward, she tipped her head slightly. “Mr. Johnston, at the risk of sounding ridiculous, do you have an alarm system?”

“Yes, yes I do! Of course! And I set it every night.” He scooted off the stool and across the floor to the button panel. “I put in my code, faithfully. Got a motion detector and the works. I installed my best system—the DR690 Deluxe!”

Realizing that the officers appeared slightly confused at his rambling numbers, he broke it down for them. “Look—if a cat even passes too close to the window at night the sucker goes off! I’ve had it misfire—but I’ve never had it fail!”

“Let’s settle down, Mr. Johnston, what do you say?” April took his arm and gently led him back to the stool. “Guin, could you get him a glass of water?”

Guin nodded. Johnston motioned behind them to another smaller room that had a kitchenette. She rifled through the cupboards for a cup and filled it with water from the cooler. She was headed back for the main room when a lopsided picture hanging on the wall caught her attention. It was a baby girl—Ted Johnston’s granddaughter, she presumed—frolicking in a sprinkler wearing nothing more than a diaper. Guin smiled, nudged it straight with her index finger as she passed by.

In an instant, the contact inspired a vision of the boy in the hat—the same one she’d seen hacking codes in her previous vision. She was stunned. She pulled her finger back and then touched the picture again. Same thing.

Guin set the water on the countertop and snatched the picture off the wall. The vision of the boy in the Shelby Mustang Diner hat was painstakingly clear and growing more dimensional by the moment. Guin unfastened the back of the frame and removed the picture. Behind the baby girl’s photo was her suspect in another photo, hat and all. Guin doubted very much that if his picture was hanging on the wall the boy was merely a night janitor.

Guin walked into the next room holding the frame and both pictures. “Is this your son, Mr. Johnston?” She waved the blond thug’s picture in front of him. At once, the shop owner’s shoulders caved forward. Next his body did as well, and the old man was in a heap on the floor, motionless.

Guin dropped the picture and frame and shouted into her collar mic. “Unit fifty-four! We need a bus at Valley Alarm Company ASAP.”

And then she dropped to the floor and administered CPR until medics arrived.

Back at the station, Guin showered and dressed in fresh blues. The old ones had gotten sweaty with her lifesaving efforts and then ultimately were vomit-covered—thankfully not with her own. The old guy had come around, but he didn’t look as happy to be alive as he could have.

Guin finished towel-drying her hair and went to meet up with April who was waiting in the lounge. She was hanging up the phone when Guin entered.

“Unbelievable!” April’s eyes were wide. “Old Man Johnston just dropped a dime on his own son. Kid has a record. Winters is en route to pick him up right now.”

“Poor old guy. Probably knew it was his kid all along.”

“Boy, I sure didn’t get that from him.”

“Sad thing is, now Johnston faces insurance fraud.” She shrugged. “Probably he really just didn’t want to believe his own kid was ripping him off. Now he’ll lose his business. That’s a tough reputation to recover from in that line of work.”

“How on earth did you know to look for that picture?”

“It was sticking out the back of the frame.”

April was still stunned. “And how did you know he was the boy? This is confusing.”

“Remember how I said I recognized his associate—the tattoo kid?” Guin was really thinking on her feet today. “He wasn’t involved in this particular case, but I saw the picture, acted on a hunch.” She shrugged. “Of course, I didn’t think my hunch would send him into cardiac arrest.”

April shook her head, looked slightly disheartened. “You must have just touched on the old guy’s nerves. What an understated approach to getting a confession. Wow, I don’t know if I’ll ever get that good.”

“You will.” Guin rushed to comfort her. “Trust me—it was a lucky guess. Soon enough you’ll be guessing what these morons are thinking, okay?”

“If you say.” April wore a slowly emerging grin. “You’re my super-cop hero, Guin Marcus.”

“Believe me when I say it was nothing,” Guin told her, and she actually meant it.

April scooted considerably closer to her partner, whispered, “How about I arrange a hero’s welcome home anyway?”

“Oh yeah?” Guin considered all the benefits that being a supersleuth might offer her after all. She laughed softly thinking about it, made a crooked little smile. “Whose home did you have in mind to welcome me to?”

“Mine,” April replied, resolute lust in her eyes. “I’ll cook for you. And later we’ll make dinner.”