“It’s being processed as part of the crime scene.” Crime scenes often extended beyond the room or space where the body was found. If a killer disposed of the murder weapon in a different location, it became part of the scene. Basically, anything touched by case evidence was part of the crime scene. And she had arrived at the murder house minutes before all hell broke loose.

“That’s what Spencer said,” Avery said.

“They find anything interesting yet?” Everyone’s environment said something about them. What had hers whispered to Spencer?

“Probably that you’re a control freak.”

Jordan laughed. She took several steps forward, skimming her foot over the gravel and slate. She pictured the path that she had put down herself last year.

Avery hurried beside her, her bracelets rattling as she tapped Jordan’s elbow. “Let me help you.”

“I know every inch of this yard. I’ve spent enough time in it.”

“I don’t remember you out here in the middle of the night,” Avery said.

Jordan quickened her pace to prove her point. She covered the next five or six feet fairly fast. And then her foot caught on a piece of flagstone. It tipped her off balance, and she could feel herself falling forward. Her hands went out in front of her as she braced for impact.

Avery grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back up. “Nice going.”

Jordan jerked her arm away. “I would have been okay. A few falls are to be expected.”

Avery took her arm again. “You just suffered a head injury. You don’t need another one.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Jordan’s heart thundered in her chest, but she still moved forward, at a more tentative pace.

“Shut up,” Avery said. “And step up.”

“What?”

“We’re at the front porch. Three steps.”

“I know that.”

Avery sighed.

Jordan climbed the three, surprised that what had been so familiar was now awkward. She counted each step, sliding her foot forward until it touched the next landing.

They crossed the porch, and Avery’s keys rattled as she shoved the house key in the front door. She pushed it open wide. “I moved my stuff back into your house. No sense in me keeping my apartment right now.”

“You moved back?” It was the best news she had had all week.

“Temporarily.”

“Right. Temporary,” Jordan said.

“It’ll be easier when you master your white cane.”

Jordan gripped the cane. “Did you know only two to eight percent of blind people use a cane or a guide dog?”

“And the rest rely on usable vision.”

“You’ve been doing homework.”

“I have.”

The floor under Jordan’s feet was too smooth. “Where’s the carpet?”

“It’s a tripping hazard, so it’s in the spare room.” Avery guided her to the couch and helped her sit.