Page 47 of A Deeper Darkness

“You said the Savage River, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s weird.”

Sam felt a little thrum in her chest. Her adrenal gland was throwing a party in her brainstem.

“What’s weird?”

“We vacation there. It’s great for the girls. We camp, hike, go fishing. It’s one of…was one of Eddie’s favorite places. But we haven’t been since last summer.”

Susan got quiet and Sam knew she was thinking about something.

“What. What is it?”

“One of Eddie’s old Army buddies lives up there. I haven’t met him. According to Eddie, he’s a bit of a recluse. Saw too much in the war. Usually when we go up there, Eddie will take a morning and go fishing with him. I don’t know the last time they spoke, though.”

Bingo.

“What’s his name?”

“Xander. Xander Whitfield. They served together during Eddie’s last tour in Afghanistan.”

* * *

Sam left a message for Fletcher, asking him to call when he had a chance, then finished the drive to the Donovans’ house in silence. She didn’t like what the evidence was saying. Someone connected to the Savage River was involved in the murders. She hated the thought that it could be someone from Eddie’s unit, but knew that was the most likely place to look.

The intersection of Old Dominion and Spring Hill Road appeared ahead. She took the right turn, realizing she wasn’t entirely prepared to roll up on Donovan’s house. She’d never seen where, and how, he lived before. Left. Left again. The final turn came up before she’d fully steeled herself, and then they were there, in a perfect little cul-de-sac, facing an elegant two-story whitewashed redbrick house, with black shutters, a red door and a fenced-in backyard.

It was so unlike anything she pictured Donovan in, and yet it was exactly right. A perfect place to raise children, away from the hustle and bustle of downtown. Anotherwhat ifstrolled through her mind to poke at her, and she abruptly slammed on the brakes in response. Susan shot her a glance.

“Sorry. Shall I park out here on the street?”

“It looks like all the police cars are gone. You can pull right in.”

Sam drove around the side of the house and left the car in the drive.

They walked in through the mudroom, which exited into the family room. It was a beautiful space, honey oak floors and built-in bookshelves, with an indoor-outdoor glass conservatory hidden in the back. The family room led to the kitchen, the heart of the house.

Sam could smell Donovan. God, it was like being thrust back fifteen years. He obviously hadn’t changed his cologne since she’d dated him. She wondered if this was the case in her own house, and she was so used to the way it smelled that she never felt Simon and the twins there.

“Oh, my God,” Susan said. Sam focused and saw the mess. There was fingerprint powder everywhere, a fine black dust that coated everything like soot after a fire. Susan ran her finger across the kitchen counter, leaving a snail’s trail in the dust.

“Yeah, crime scene techs aren’t known for their neatness.”

“I can tell. What’s the best way to get this up?”

“Clorox wipes work great. Just be thankful you don’t have carpets. Stuff will never come out properly.”

“I’m going to need a gallon of them. Can I get you something to drink?” Susan asked.

“Water would be nice, Susan. Thanks.”

“The refrigerator water is filtered.”

“That’s great. Tap is fine, too. Good old Potomac never messes me up.”

Susan got the water from the refrigerator, anyway, then handed it to Sam. “It’s colder this way.”