“Let him push.” The tires squeal as I pull away from the curb. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I push back.”

Leaning back in the seat, Tomasetti groans, looks out the window.

From the rear seat, Glock clears his throat. “So what’s your take on Payne?”

“He’s worth looking at,” Tomasetti says. “The torture aspect fits him better than the others.”

I glance in the rearview mirror, catch Glock’s gaze. “Dig up everything you can find on him. See if he’s in CODIS. If not, get a warrant. I want a DNA sample from that son of a bitch.”

“You think he knew the girl?” Glock asks.

Tomasetti shakes his head. “I don’t think he’d have a relationship with an Amish female.”

“Yeah,” Glock agrees. “Too much hate.”

“He could have raped her,” I put in.

I feel John’s eyes burning into me, but I don’t look at him. I don’t want him to see what I know shows on my face.

“Autopsy substantiate that?” Glock asks.

I shake my head. “Inconclusive.”

I park in front of the police station and get out without speaking. I’m still angry, but now that anger is focused on myself. I feel like an idiot for taking a shot at Payne. I’m embarrassed because I did it in front of two people I respect. Two cops whose opinions matter to me.

I’m midway to the front door when Tomasetti breaks the silence. “I’d like to see the crime scene.”

I know it’s petty in light of everything that’s happened, but I don’t want to go back there. I’m feeling too battered, too vulnerable. I want to blame it on my confrontation with Payne, but I know the feelings zinging inside me have more to do with a dead Amish girl than an ex-con full of hate.

“Come with me,” he says.

We stop on the sidewalk in front of the station. Glock’s gaze goes from Tomasetti to me, and he clears his throat. “I’m going to get some queries going on Payne. See about that warrant.”

“Thanks,” I mutter and watch him disappear inside.

I turn my attention back to Tomasetti. He stares evenly at me. I stare back, determined not to look away despite my discomfort.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m always okay.”

He looks away, studies the building behind me, then gives me a sage look. “It’s not like you to go after a suspect like that.”

“Nobody likes a bigot.”

He frowns. “Or maybe I’m not the only one this case is hitting too close to home for.”