“Good morning, Mrs. Morgan.” It’s all formalities today. I still wonder why he’s being nice. Does he think Adam is innocent? Does he feel sorry for me? Or does he have some other motive for this nice guy act?

“Good morning, Sheriff Stevens.” He shakes my hand, and I notice he is sweaty despite the cool weather. What is he nervous about? Does he know something?

“We’re just going to take a look around, and you tell me if you notice anything out of the norm,” he says leading the way. I follow, a bit apprehensive. I wouldn’t notice anything out of place even if it were. I rarely came here. This was essentially Adam’s home. I don’t say a word though. I’m sure there’s stuff the police missed, and I bet I can at least help with that.

Sheriff Stevens turns back to me and hands over the folder he was carrying.

“Almost forgot, here are the results of the autopsy as well as DNA. We’re still pulling phone records and running additional tests on some of the evidence we collected here.”

I nod, opening the folder as I walk. I trip on the first step of the wraparound porch because I’m face deep in the autopsy report. Sheriff Stevens catches me and pulls me up onto the porch. We lock eyes, inches apart from one another. My breath is a bit ragged. His breathing is steady. He asks me if I’m all right and I tell him yes. I step back from his embrace and straighten my skirt, while he bends down picking up the papers.

“Do you want to take a seat and read that over before we go inside?” He points to the bench on the porch. I nod, knowing I should look over the report before trying to assess the crime scene. I take a seat and begin flipping through the papers.

“Kelly Summers had Rohypnol in her system?”

“Yes.” Sheriff Stevens paces back and forth on the porch. He’s not one to sit still.

“Odd. What about Adam?” I ask looking up at him. “Did he have the same drug in his system?”

“No,” he says without hesitation.

“Did you test for it?”

“I believe so, but I’ll double-check with the lab.”

I flip through a few more pages and then stop when one catches my eye. I scan the text quickly and let out a breath of frustration.

“She was pregnant?” I look up at Sheriff Stevens. He shuffles his feet a bit and instantly he is visibly upset. He seems to collect himself almost quickly enough not to notice that this news bothered him. I supposed it would bother anyone. A woman and her unborn child stabbed to death. He finally nods.