CHAPTER FIVE
Thomas Kenner’s house didn’t look much more prosperous than Beachy’s. Alexa took in the battered old two-door Toyota, the small ranch-style dwelling with its stucco walls, and the general lack of affluence in the neighborhood. From his file, she knew Kenner was only 25 and wasn’t working. It was hard to get a job as an ex-con. She wondered how he supported himself. Kenner had told his parole officer that the bills were being paid by family.
Alexa wondered about that. People lied to their parole officers all the time and the officers were so overworked they generally didn’t have time to check.
Sergeant Ortiz parked out of sight on the next street over, keeping an eye on the property’s backyard. They’d deal with Kenner themselves. Stuart kept a handheld radio inside his jacke
