Chapters (87)
- TITLE PAGE
- COPYRIGHT
- DEDICATION
- CONTENTS
- START READING
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY
- EPILOGUE
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
If I can get a decent sample, I can find out if it is the same kind of plant material as on the shore at Octopus Hole where Sophie’s body was found.
“I don’t have to say anything more to you. I don’t have a lawyer, but I guess I could get one. Now we’re done here.”
“Let’s go,” I say to Montrose.
The man without the smile turns and heads back to the mobile home, and Montrose and I get back into the car.
“What got into you?” he asks.
“We need to come back,” I tell him. “But we need a warrant.”
“You were looking at something behind him. Did you at least see something useful?”
“The Ford,” I say. “It matches something I saw on Facebook.”
Montrose looks over and shakes his head. I know the look. God, I know it better than anything. I wait. Three. Two. One. Here it comes.
“‘Facebook’?” he asks. “Seriously? Now we’re using that piece of self-absorbed crap as an investigative tool? What’s wrong with your generation?”
“Nothing that we can’t fix once your generation is gone.” I snap this back at him with heat.
He stays silent until we’re back on the highway.
“Okay, now that our little tiff is over, tell me about the truck you read about on Facebook.”
I manage an embarrassed smile. “It’s more than what I read. Last night I was scrolling down the Mason County Crime Watch page, and someone posted that just before Sophie’s disappearance, they saw a red pickup truck parked on the road next to Canal View. There was no one in the truck. Poster shared it because he’d read on another thread that Adam Warner had told police that he ran after the man who was carrying his wife and he thought someone might have been waiting just off the road above the cabin.”
“I know all this, Lee.”
“But here’s something you didn’t know: I think that there were some reeds consistent with what I saw at the body recovery site on the back bumper of his truck.”
This time he gives me the side-eye.
“You a forensic botanist now?” he asks.
“We need to do two things, and we need to do them fast,” I say.
“All right. What’s on your list?”
“Find out if Coyle was really on the road and when. Find out more about that truck from the Facebook user who posted about it. Then get a warrant to return. If Sophie was in that truck, we’re going to need to prove it.”