Edden’s round face went questioning behind his glasses. Glenn flicked a glance at me. “I know,” he said. “The body is too old. Sit down and shut up.”

The FIB officer came to a halt beside us, and my eyes widened as Glenn put an aggressive arm across his shoulders. “I told you to detain them,” he said softly. “What are they still doing here?”

The man went white. “You meant in one of the cruisers? I thought Mr. Kalamack would be more comfortable here.”

Glenn’s lips pressed together and his neck muscles tensed. “Detained for questioning means move them to the FIB offices. You don’t question people at the crime scene when it’s this important. Get them out of here.”

“But you didn’t say…” The man swallowed. “Yes sir.” Glancing once at Edden, he headed toward Trent and Sara Jane, looking apologetic, frightened, and very young. I didn’t have time to spare him any pity.

Still angry, Glenn went to stand over his father’s shoulder, typing in his own password with a stiff finger. My stomach gave a lurch and settled. I pushed the top of the computer down on his hands. Glenn clenched his jaw as they both looked up at me. I turned to Trent and Sara Jane on their way out, waiting until Edden and Glenn followed my gaze to them before saying, “I can’t say for sure, but I think that’s Dan.”

Sara Jane’s face remained blank for a telling moment. Eyes widening, she clutched at Trent. Her mouth opened and closed. Burying her face in his shoulder, she began sobbing. Trent patted her shoulder gently, but his eyes on me were narrowed in anger.

Edden pursed his lips in thought, which made his graying mustache stick out as we exchanged shrewd looks. Sara Jane didn’t know Dan as well as she wanted everyone to think. Why would Trent make Sara Jane come to the FIB with a phony complaint of a missing boyfriend when he knew I’d find the body on his grounds? Unless he hadn’t known about it? How could he not know?

Glenn, apparently, missed everything as he grabbed my upper arm and yanked me past a hysterical Sara Jane and out into the shadows of the oak tree. “Damn it, Rachel,” he hissed as Sara Jane was led sobbing to a cruiser. “I told you to shut up! You’re leaving. Now. That little stunt of yours might be enough to let Kalamack walk.”

Even in my heels, Glenn was taller than me, and it ticked me off. “Yeah?” I shot back. “You asked me to read Trent’s emotions. Well I did. Sara Jane doesn’t know Dan Smather from her mailman. Trent had him killed. And that body has been moved.”