Large halogen lights, set up by the fire department, illuminated the house and grounds. It was a modest, two-story center hall-plan home. Vinyl siding, shutters on the window frames, and a wheelchair ramp that connected a side entry to the driveway were the main design elements. Several large maple trees and a collection of evergreen shrubs accounted for the landscaping in the front of the property. No fence, not much privacy.

That was good. Hopefully, someone saw something.

An ambulance had been backed into the driveway. Cooper parked his car behind a squad car and jumped out, Lamond right behind him as they entered the house.

“Lamond, good to see you.” Patrol Sergeant Sue MacLeod strode over to them. Small, broad, with open, freckled features, she gave off a farm-girl vibe. Until you looked into her eyes. “How’s Ethan making out in Vice?”

Lamond grinned. “He’s right at home.”

MacLeod smiled. “A change is as good as a rest.” She eyed Cooper. “You must be Ellis. Sorry to get you guys out of bed, but this isn’t your garden variety house robbery.”

Cooper nodded. “Did your team find the weapon?”

“It’s over here in the living room.” MacLeod led them in single file to the living room. They were careful to follow her direct path. No one wanted to be responsible for contaminating evidence.

Near the back of the living room, two paramedics crouched over a woman. Was this the victim or the suspect? When he got close enough to see her features, he ruled out victim. The woman was alive—but barely. And she was much younger than the age of Harry Owen’s parents.

Pale white blond hair had been pulled back from her forehead with a black headband covering her hairline. Her eyes were closed. The lashes were invisible on her eyelids. She reminded him of a freshly hatched bird. Yet her eyebrows were strangely dark. With her fair skin turning grey from blood loss, the brows were grotesque. He revised his impression of her: she looked like an alien that had been shot from the sky.

Then he realized that she had darkened her brows so their unusually pale shade would not be visible. Just as the hairband had been used to cover her hairline.

She was smart.

The woman’s upper body lay in a large pool of blood, her neck stabilized in a cervical collar. A black balaclava lay on the floor.

Calmly, but quickly, one of the paramedics cut the hoody and pants from the woman while the other paramedic kept a gloved hand over the bubbling wound in her chest. The woman was soaked in blood, her skin becoming alarmingly blue beneath the gleaming red fluid.

Cooper noted the tear in the upper shoulder of her jacket where the bullet had penetrated.

“What’s her status?” Cooper asked one of the paramedics.