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back the blanket to reveal a pillow with a brown stain across the center. A strand of gray hair lay across the pillow.

“Benson slept here,” LeVar said, swinging his eyes around the room.

“We’d better alert the sheriff’s department.” She removed her phone and turned to LeVar. “Call Raven. Let her know Benson is hiding outside Wolf Lake.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

October 31st

1:35 p.m.

Thomas sat in the passenger seat of Detective Presley’s cruiser. They were parked near the back of the lot outside the high school. Three students in hooded sweatshirts braved the cold and mingled outside a rusty muscle car, one kid sucking on a cigarette and puffing smoke. The principal would make an announcement about Derek before the day ended. As he reviewed his notes, Thomas wondered how many people Leland Trivett had already told.

“I don’t believe Trivett killed Derek,” Thomas said. “The kid seemed genuinely shocked.”

“Agreed. The more I learn about Derek’s stepfather, the more I think he had something to do with the murder.” Presley read her watch. “We have an hour to kill before we interview Valerie Leonard.” Valerie had left school for a dentist appointment and was due home by three. “How do you want to handle the interview?”

Thomas drummed his hand against the armrest.

“Her parents will demand to observe the interview. That could present a problem if the father is involved.”

“How about I lead the interview, and you focus on the dad? Watch how he reacts when we bring up Derek.”

“That works.”

Presley yawned into her hand.

“The long day is catching up to me. There’s a coffee shop on the way.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Thomas said, hopping out of Presley’s vehicle.

He followed Presley down a winding hill which deposited them on the southern outskirts of Barton Falls. The residences on this side of the town seemed to sag and lean more than their counterparts. Like thinning hair, missing shingles left bald spots on roofs. Beaten cars sat on blocks in yards, and a woman bundled against the cold pushed a shopping cart of returnable cans along a buckled sidewalk.

The coffee shop sat beside a gas station in the center of Barton Falls. While Presley ran inside, Thomas refilled at the pump, bracing against the chill. A paper pumpkin blew around his ankles, and a sign announcing beer at thirty percent off flapped against the store.

After he topped off the tank, Thomas parked his vehicle beside Presley’s and joined her inside. She waited in line with a coffee cup in one hand and a protein bar in the other. Remembering Aguilar’s advice, Thomas ordered green tea. Three customers waited in line between Presley and Thomas. The detective motioned for him to stand beside her, but he shook his head, not wanting to jump the line. The woman in front of Thomas held a sandwich. She eyed Thomas’s badge with curiosity as she tapped an impatient foot.

On their way out of the coffee shop, Presley’s phone rang. Holding the coffee and protein bar, she struggled to grab the phone out of her pocket.

“Let me take that,” Thomas said, holding his hand out for Presley’s coffee.

“Thanks.” Thomas waited beside Presley’s cruiser while the detective answered the call. After some back and forth, she held up a finger. “Perfect. Send me a photo of the impressions…right…I’ll let you know what we find.”

“Good news?”

“We got a break. CSI took impressions of the tire tracks this morning. The driver drove on mismatched tires: two snows and two all-seasons.”

“So we’re looking for a dark-colored sedan with mismatched tires.”

“It’s not much to go on, but it’s a start.”

“Let’s hope Valerie Leonard’s father parked his vehicle in the driveway, rather than inside a locked garage.”

“That’s the thing. I checked with the DMV, and Ed Leonard drives a black Volkswagen Passat.”

* * *

Raven snapped awake to a car door slamming. She blinked and glanced around the parking lot, embarrassed she’d fallen asleep. With Mark Benson in Wolf Lake, now wasn’t the time to let her guard down. Though she considered the parking lot outside the sheriff’s department a safe place, she took nothing for granted.

She glanced at the clock. At most, she’d dozed for five minutes. Aguilar was inside the building, meeting with Lambert. Raven checked her phone for missed calls. After leaving voice-mail messages with Lizzie Todd and Ellie Fisher, she’d hoped one of the women would get back to her. Raven called Ellie’s phone, expecting to end up in voice-mail purgatory again. When Ellie answered, Raven sat forward.

“Ellie, I tried to reach you earlier.”

“Sorry, Ms. Hopkins. I meant to call, but it’s been a crazy day at work. Not a moment’s rest.”

“You’ve heard the news by now, I hope.”

“What news?”

Raven slapped her palm against her face. Ellie had gone about her day, unaware her kidnapper was in Wolf Lake and possibly targeting her. As she told Ellie about the jailbreak, heels clicked against the pavement while wind whistled over the phone.

“Are you outside?”

“I’m on my way to meet a client,” Ellie said as the clicks sped up. Raven pictured the woman—slight build with a runner’s physique, dimpled cheeks, hair tied back in a ponytail. “Oh, I never told you. I got a choice job with an advertising agency. We’re two blocks from your private investigation firm. We should do lunch sometime.”

“Did you say you’re meeting a client?” Raven’s awareness of her surroundings exploded. Suddenly, every fall color sharpened. She heard leaves scraping beneath the undercarriage, car horns bleating from a block away. “Who is the client?”

“A Mr. Sandford, or something. He’s meeting me at the village park, then we’re going out for lunch.”

“So you’ve never met this man.”

“Is that a problem?”

Raven drummed her foot as she searched the windows for Aguilar. What was taking so long?

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Stay away from the park.”

“I can’t blow off Mr. Sandford. This is my third week on the job. They’ll fire me if I lose the account.”

Raven turned the key in the ignition and motored out of the lot, pointing the Rogue toward the park as

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