“Whoever these belonged to could have come to watch the police proceedings or be nosey neighbors. It could be the press looking for a better angle for a photograph to go with their lead news story. We have the culprit in custody.”

Irritation hissed along Eban’s nerves. This detective had already tried and convicted Darby based on circumstantial evidence, but Eban knew her better than that. It wasn’t the detective’s fault that she didn’t, but it was her responsibility to do her job properly. Police only had one real opportunity to process a crime scene. Best to do it correctly the first time.

Eban unclenched his jaw. “You have a suspect in custody who doesn’t remember what happened. Now you have evidence to suggest someone else was here, possibly within the timeframe of the murder. What was the time of death, anyway?”

Torgerson shook her head. “Medical Examiner hasn’t determined that yet.”

The patrol officer adjusted his hat. “I didn’t see these prints approaching or leaving the house anywhere else—I only saw them exiting, but I want to go back and take a closer look.”

Eban nodded. That was good work. Examine the evidence. Mine every detail for as much information as possible. He held out his hand to the uniformed cop. “Sorry I haven’t introduced myself. Supervisory Special Agent Winters. Please call me Eban.”

They shook hands. “Patrol Sergeant Allan Robertson. Most people call me Big Al.”

Something in the man’s tone made Eban cock his head. “Is that what you prefer to be called?”

The man blew into his cupped hands, the first indication he was also feeling the chill. “Actually, I prefer Allan.”

“Allan it is.” Eban nodded.

“You never mentioned that before,” Detective Torgerson said quietly from behind him.

“You never asked, Detective Torgerson.” There was no missing the bitterness with which Allan addressed the detective.

The long pause was taut with undercurrents Eban could only guess at.

“Signy.” The detective said finally. “Call me Signy.”

Allan nodded and Eban was satisfied with the exchange. He’d established himself as someone who noticed details and was considerate of other people’s feelings. Someone worth listening to and not just some hotshot asshole from the lower 48. He needed to squeeze every ounce of empathy and cooperation out of this police department if he had any hope of extricating Darby from this bloody mess. And the real irony was, if he’d made different choices over the last six months, Darby might not be in this situation in the first place.

He’d believed he was allowing her the opportunity to move on from her bad experiences. He’d hoped to watch her fly. Live her dreams to the fullest. Instead, they were both stuck in this nightmare, and Eban had no clue how things would unfold. Best he could do would be to keep pushing the investigation to collect as much evidence as possible and hope to hell it didn’t backfire on a woman who meant so much to him.

“Call in the K9 unit,” Torgerson told Allan while Eban let the silence ride. “Let’s see where these tracks lead.”