I should have thought of that, but I didn’t, and a creeping sense of dread slinks up my back. “Tomasetti, I’ve been careful. I mean, I’m a cop. I would have noticed.” But even as I say the words, I silently acknowledge that I’ve been distracted and probably not as cautious as I think.

Neither of us mentions my pregnancy, but the fact is as glaring and palpable as a physical presence.

I tell him about Doc Coblentz’s assertion that Lucy Kester’s injuries were more than likely a result of shaken baby syndrome. “He was going to get a second opinion, but that was his finding.”

Tomasetti grinds his teeth. “That fucking Kester doesn’t want to go down for that.”

“He tried to blame me. His wife blames me.…”

“She probably doesn’t know he abused the child, and he wants to keep it that way. It’s a damn farce.”

I try to smile. To let him know I’m okay. That I can handle this. All I manage is a twisting of my lips and a smile that feels like a lie.

Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

It takes five hours for the CSU to process the scene, which basically consists of the kitchen, living room, hallway, stairs, and bedroom. The largest piece of evidence recovered was the slug he dug out of the wall, which will be sent to the lab in London and analyzed. During a search of the woods at the rear of our property, Skid found a man’s boot print in a muddy area. A Wayne County deputy discovered tire tracks in the dirt near a gravel pullover on the road just north of our property. The CSU successfully captured impressions of both. All the evidence will be analyzed and, if the case goes to trial, used in conjunction with my testimony to put Nick Kester behind bars. Of course, we have to find him first.…

Despite the efforts of every law enforcement agency in the three-county area, Nick and Paula Kester have been eerily elusive. I suspect that after the shooting at the farm, Kester hightailed it to his vehicle and fled the scene before roadblocks could be set up. Some in law enforcement believe they fled the state. Tomasetti isn’t buying into that theory; neither am I. I think they’ve found a safe haven and are hiding out nearby. Sooner or later they’ll turn up. The question is when and whether anyone will get hurt.

Being a stickler for personal safety—especially mine—Tomasetti suggests we spend the night at the Marriott in Canton. We leave the farm at just after 4:00 P.M. and end up having a nice dinner at a steakhouse not too far from the hotel. After a stressful, frustrating, do-nothing day, it’s a nice break.

*   *   *