Noah turned to Miguel. “Thank you for showing me your alligators.”

Miguel nodded. Shifted. And rubbed his arm.

“You’re a beautiful craftsman. Thank you for showing us your sculptures.”

“You have a good boy.” Miguel rubbed his arm again and a trail of blood smeared down his arm from a broken scab. “Keep him close.”

A breeze rustled the foliage and the ugly feeling Lane had the day she found Sydney’s body returned. Her eyes skated the shadows beneath the trees. Was someone out there? Watching?

“Are you okay, Miguel?”

“You need to leave.”

The hardness returned to Miguel’s eyes. Lane wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw Miguel’s body stiffen as though he too sensed something. “Come on, Noah. Time to go home.”

“Bye, friend Miguel.” Noah waved.

Lane hurried Noah to her Jeep, unwilling to find out what had spooked Miguel so suddenly. Inside the safety of the SUV, she realized two things: it’d be a long time before she stepped foot in the woods near the Ogeechee River again, and something had Miguel terrified.

“DEA?” Charlie slipped a sideways glance at Sheriff Huggins as he took the exit toward Savannah. The sheriff was only catching Charlie’s side of the conversation he was having with Agent Padello, but he imagined they shared the same expression—shock.

“Yep. Deputy Frost sent me that address, and as soon as I hit enter on my keyboard my office phone rang with a curious DEA agent demanding information,” Agent Padello said.

“What did you tell him?”

“Only what I know. Video shows your vic carrying a package with the address on it the day before she was killed.”

“And what’d they say?”

“He, Agent Mitch Edmonds, is wondering if you’ll let him observe your knock and talk?”

“Knock and talk?” Charlie scratched his cheek. This day . . . this case . . . was not what he was expecting. “Why? What’s the DEA’s interest in our case?”

“Wish I could tell you.” Agent Padello’s tone went rigid. “Unfortunately, not all agencies have an affinity for sharing information. All I can tell you is that they’re interested and I’m not sure you have much of a choice in letting him observe you, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Oh, and I’m running the video footage we have of Sydney leaving the gallery through facial recognition. Maybe we’ll get a hit on someone in the area who’s not supposed to be there.”

“Like Pablo Escobar frequenting an art gallery in Savannah?” Charlie’s mention of the infamous Mexican drug lord drew a short laugh from Agent Padello, but something else pricked his memory. “We appreciate your help more than you know.”