Chapter 13
“Five kids, and look at them,” Kruso said.
Kate was holding the photo Kruso had pulled from her wallet of her very tall, lean husband, with glasses and an oval face. Their five children looked to range in age from a toddler to a teenager, and every one had Kruso’s red hair.
“Oh, they’re so cute,” she said. They looked like a handful, she noted from the gleam in the boys’ eyes. She touched her chest for a minute, struck with an image of Walker’s child with the same impossibly challenging personality, and she ached again.
“I think so, but I’m partial. After all, they are my kids, and isn’t it a parent’s responsibility to think her kids are the best looking, the greatest, better than any other kid out there, even though they’re a handful? Some days police work is the easy job.
