Excerpt from ‘Last Day’

Beth Lathrop was six months pregnant and hadn’t been heard from in three days. Her silver Mercedes was parked in the driveway, and at least two days’ worth of dog waste was visible through the window. These facts, plus Kate’s demeanor, told McCabe that she and Hawley could claim exigent circumstances if they faced a problem in court later.

“Is there an alarm?” she asked. “Is it silent?”

“Yes, there is one. No, it’s not silent. It’s a siren,” Kate said. “But I know the code. I can disarm it.”

“Get back,” McCabe said. She pulled on latex gloves, took her baton from her black leather belt, and smashed the door. The glazed glass shattered into a thousand tiny squares, but they held in place. She gave it one extra-forceful tap with the butt of her baton, and the pieces rained down onto the blue tile floor. She reached in to unlock the door from the inside.

The alarm didn’t go off. It hadn’t been set.

The officers stepped into the kitchen, but Kate pushed past them. “Beth!” she shouted.

“Wait,” McCabe said, grabbing Kate’s arm. “Please step outside until I tell you to come in.”

“There’s no way,” Kate said and disappeared through the kitchen. McCabe kept her hand on her hip holster, following Kate. Hawley petted the dog, let him outside into the fenced yard, and then followed the other two up the stairs.

“Beth!” Kate called. She was on the stairs, mounting them two at a time, McCabe just behind her. McCabe heard the air conditioner humming behind a closed door at the top of the staircase. Kate started to grab the knob, but McCabe clamped her wrist to stop her. Kate’s hand was shaking.

“Wait out here, Kate,” McCabe said.

Kate took a step back, letting Hawley pass, seeming to comply.

McCabe turned the brass knob—even through her glove, the metal felt like ice. Inside, the bedroom was freezing cold, the air conditioner running hard. The room smelled sickly sweet and rotten. Beth lay on her right side facing the window, her back to the door. Flies, sluggish in the chilled air, buzzed around her head. Kate ran past both officers to her sister.

“Beth,” Kate said, crouching down to look into her face. She let out a sharp, instant shriek of wild, immediate grief. “No, Beth, don’t let it be this—don’t let it.” “Don’t touch her,” McCabe said. “Oh, Beth,” Kate said.

Reprinted with permission.