Page 44

CHAPTER 44

DETECTIVE WILL brOGAN WAS holding a cell phone down by his side, and his eyes were set and hard. His jacket was dusty, and the lines in his face seemed deeper than they had two days before.

The phone and the hard eyes told me all I needed to know.

He’d been taking and making so many calls that morning, he’d simply grown accustomed to carrying the phone around. And he’d shut off his own emotions completely because there were other people to devastate now. The public, through an address to the media. Daisy’s family. Me. Brogan couldn’t afford to show whatever it was he felt. So his gray eyes, when they fell on me, were empty. And when he spoke, his voice was even and flat.

“Rhonda.”

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” I asked. “Daisy Hansen.”

He flicked his head toward his car, which was parked just down the street.

“You better come see the body,” he said.