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Joel didn’t want to let her go, but he didn’t have a reason to keep her here, either. The boats were pulling in, and Joel wanted to get a look at everything before the ME’s people started.
“Let me see that card,” he said.
She hesitated a moment before pulling a card from her bra and handing it over. Joel took out a pen and wrote on the back.
“That’s my mobile,” he said. “Call me if you remember anything else.”
“All right.”
“Thank you for your time today.”
“No problem.”
She stepped around him to open the Jeep, and Joel moved out of the way.
Bollinger was still with his vehicle, zipping into his white Tyvek suit. Meanwhile, the boats had docked, and Emmet was securing the canoe to a cleat.
Thunder rumbled, and Joel glanced at the sky just in time to catch the first fat raindrops. He looked at the canoe that held two dead young people, along with any forensic evidence he hoped to recover. All of it was going to get drenched.
Joel started for the dock.
“Detective?”
He turned around. Miranda wore a rain jacket now with a hood that covered her head. Wherever she was going, she was about to get soaked.
“Make sure they bag her hands,” she told him.
“What’s that?”
“The female victim,” she said. “She’s holding a feather. You don’t want it getting lost in transport, so tell your CSI to make sure to bag her hands.”
About the Author
Laura Griffin is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty-five books and novellas. She is a two-time RITA® Award winner as well as the recipient of the Daphne du Maurier Award.
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