Keeping the retriever close, Brody hurried back to the house. Through the kitchen window, he could see Kailee and Hannah working together. Kailee was smiling, talking, and sketching. Hannah’s body was tense, and her brows were furrowed in concentration. The young artist had her hands full getting Hannah to relax.

Brody led the dog inside. He unsnapped the leash and locked the door.

Kailee set down her pencil and turned the pad around. “We did two drawings. Hannah has a good eye for detail.” Kailee turned the sketch pad toward him.

The first sketch was of a scroungy-looking man in his late twenties. Goatee. Thin. Mean eyes. The second sketch made Brody suck wind. Beyond the physical characteristics—young, dark hair and eyes—Kailee had captured the terror and hopelessness on the young girl’s face. Brody didn’t have to ask to know Hannah was seeing that face every time she closed her eyes. No wonder she was exhausted.

“Are you satisfied with the pictures?” he asked Hannah.

“Yes.” She nodded. “Both of these look accurate. I’m not as comfortable with my memory of the second man to attempt a sketch.” She turned to the artist. “Thank you so much, Kailee.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Kailee tore the sketches from her pad. “I need to go. I have a date.”

Brody walked her to the door. Then, considering the dog’s behavior in the woods, he escorted her all the way to her car and watched the young woman drive away. When he went back into the kitchen, Hannah was still sitting at the island, staring at the drawings. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea.

“You should reset the alarm.”

“What did you see?” Hannah asked.

“Nothing. But the dog was agitated.”

Hannah went into the pantry, and Brody heard a few digitized beeps.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Reliving the attack had obviously been stressful, but Brody knew better than to let her suppress the images. Denial didn’t work in the long run.

She nodded. “I can’t get her out of my head. Why didn’t the Vegas detective have me do a composite image?”

He looked over her shoulder. “I talked to him this afternoon. Because of budget cuts, they’re using a computer program instead of artists. The new software is giving them problems. Composites are a crapshoot, but Kailee is unusually good.” Brody paused. “You have to take these drawings with the knowledge that your mind could be conjuring up details all on its own. It wouldn’t be your fault. It just happens. If Kailee worked with a dozen witnesses, she’d get twelve slightly different images of the same suspect. Everyone sees things from their own perspective.”

“So you’re saying these drawings might not be accurate?”

“It’s hard to say. It’s been a few days since the attack. Memory fades fast.”

“Then why did you bring Kailee here?”