“I left it at the office,” he said, peering through the hazy day. It felt like another storm was coming.

“Wolfe,” she snapped.

He had promised. “Didn’t the police tell you anything during your interview?”

Her cute face scrunched up in pure irritation. “No. They seemed to think giving a journalist information was a bad idea.” She slipped her flip-flops off and stretched her toes, her toenails painted a pretty pink. “Although they did give me a copy of Candy’s will, which names me as Executor.”

He should’ve forced his way into the room with her. “Did Candy have an estate?”

“Some money she wanted donated to a couple of charities, and she wants to be cremated and have her ashes scattered on Dogwood Creek, where we used to go fishing. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal, but I’ll take care of it next week after the wedding.” Her voiced thickened.

There was nothing he could do to ease her pain, and his body tensed. He’d given her space the night before, when maybe he should’ve pushed her to talk, but he hadn’t wanted to tell her about the autopsy. “What all did the detective ask?”

She rocked back and forth, still wearing her seat belt. “They asked the same questions as before, and I told them everything I knew.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Even about Captive and Frank Spanek?”

“Yeah, but I left your name out of it all. They need a complete picture, and I want them to find out who killed her. Even if we find the killer, you and me, we’re going to call the police, right?” She leaned down and reached into her bag, retrieving a band to secure her thick hair in a ponytail. “It’s so muggy. When will fall be here?”

Not soon enough. He didn’t answer her question, because he wasn’t turning Rock into the police.

“The police wouldn’t give me any details last night, but it all had to be in the autopsy report, right? So tell me everything. Where did they find Candy?” Dana asked, persistent as ever.

He normally liked that quality in her. Not so much right now. “Two hikers in a wooded area in rural Virginia found the body. She was probably killed at home and then dumped elsewhere.”

Dana paled and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. “She’d been dead the whole two months?”

“Yes.” The ME had done a good job with makeup and putty, putting her face back together for the picture. “She died from blunt-force trauma.” There wasn’t any need to go into more detail.

“Somebody beat her to death?” Dana’s voice shook. “Was she raped?”