“Nothing on the federal, either,” Laurel murmured. She would’ve been instantly informed. “So the woman wasn’t being stalked?” The deviation from the killer’s pattern disturbed her. Or had Dr. Bove just not reported any incidences?

Huck shrugged. “I’ll be back.” He put an arm over Monty’s shoulders and all but forced the captain to a Fish and Wildlife rig, where he ordered an officer to take Monty home. Aeneas remained in place, watching them go.

Officer Zello cleared his throat. “Agent Snow? Your sister said she was busy last night and that she’d call me, but she hasn’t. Is that normal or is it the brushoff?” He shuffled his feet.

“My educated guess? She’s brushing you off,” Laurel said honestly. Abigail used people, and the officer was no longer of use to her.

“Hey. Hey. Let me through,” a man bellowed.

Laurel turned to see a round-faced thirty-something man in jeans and a sweater, no coat, trying to shove his way past two officers. His glasses were fogged from the steam of his breath. She turned and strode toward him while Huck approached from the other direction. “Who are you?”

He fought uselessly against the burly officers. “Let me in. That’s my wife. Or ex-wife. Whatever. Is it Ellie? What happened? Let go of me.” His thin face turned red.

“Stop for a second.” Laurel held up a hand and waited until he’d given up fighting and just stood there, panting. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jay Martin. I live just around the corner and woke up to see the police lights out my back window. What happened? Is Ellie okay?” He craned his neck and then went stark white as he apparently spotted the body. “Oh God. Tell me that’s not Ellie.”

Huck pivoted to block his view. “We don’t have an identity yet. But tell us about Ellie.”

Jay clamped his hands to his thighs and partially bent over, gasping for air.

Laurel waited until he’d stood, his chest still wheezing. “Mr. Martin, we need help. You said Eleanor was your ex-wife?”

“Yes.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “We divorced a year ago because I made a mistake.” He gagged. “Had an affair with the gal at the coffee stand on Fourth—it didn’t mean anything. She made me feel smart, you know?” He kicked a chunk of ice.

“What do you do?” Laurel asked.

He flushed. “I’m in construction, but I’m between jobs right now.”

“I see.” Laurel took in his body language. He was embarrassed about that? Was he furious with women who were more successful than he? “Was there any sign your ex-wife was being stalked?”

His eyes widened. “You think that was it?”

“What was it?” Huck interjected.