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Going house to house, business to business, Luke glanced back at the grief-stricken truck driver standing with the investigators.

Luke distanced himself, pressing on with his assignment.

He stood on doorsteps and asked residents if they’d recalled seeing anything unusual the previous night. He entered stores, asking employees at a computer shop, a diner and a gas station the same questions. He got names and numbers of staff who were around last night. And he asked if anyone had security camera footage.

But while taking down preliminary statements and tapping in notes, his moistened fingers began slipping on his tablet. Several times at each location he had to ask people to spell their names more than once, or repeat information they’d already provided.

“Last night?” one man said. “Hell, no, I didn’t see anything, not in that storm.”

An older woman stroked the cat she held in her arms and looked toward the scene. “A dead woman down there? Dear Lord,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I didn’t see anything.”

He came to a house where a man and woman answered the door together. They were husband and wife—they hadn’t noticed anything but still had their theories.

“I bet she was shot,” the husband said. “A drug deal.”

“Yes, a murder. Was she murdered?” the woman asked.

“We can’t speculate,” Luke said. “I don’t know.”

Finished with his last canvass, he walked to his car. Nearing the scene, he looked at the tarp covering the woman’s body. He stared until the sudden yelp of a siren, a city unit pulling out, shifted his thoughts. He got into his car and radioed dispatch. A few minutes later, in keeping with instructions, he drove to Clear River Police Department headquarters downtown.

***

Along the way, Luke’s mouth went dry as he was assailed by images of the woman under the tarp and the storm.

Stop. Keep your mind on what’s real.

He seized his water from the front seat and drank, fear swirling through him. The day after tomorrow, he had to go to California.

Then I’ll fly back with Carrie and Emily. The movers are scheduled; it’s all coordinated.

His chest tightened, thoughts and buildings blurring. He forced himself to stay calm upon arrival at Clear River PD. He parked, then entered the new one-story brick building.

Inside, Luke was directed to the Criminal Investigations Division, where he reported to Sergeant Gary Raeburn.

“Appreciate the county’s help,” Raeburn said.

“Not much in these statements. Nobody was really out last night, with the storm and all.”

“Yeah, we figured.”

“Get Ready N’ Go Gas will provide security footage—with a warrant. I called the clerk who worked the night shift. He doubts there’s anything there, but worth a look,” Luke said.

“No problem, we’ll take care of that. We’ll make a public appeal for anyone to come forward, and for dashcam footage.”

“Think you’ll get anything you can use, what with the storm?”

“Technology’s getting better. We can enhance these things. Thanks again.” Raeburn gave a small wave.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What’s that?”

“Do you have anything more on a timeline, or her clothing?”

Raeburn’s smile faded as he looked at him.

“How did you know it was a woman?”

“My supervisor told me when he called me in? And a distraught man arrived at the scene concerned about his daughter.”

Considering Luke’s response, Raeburn said: “I see. Word’s getting out. What’s your interest in the timeline and clothing?”

“You know, if tips come our way, we can filter them out, save you a lot of trouble.”

Raeburn stuck out his bottom lip.

“Let me ask the detectives.” He made a call and began relaying information to Luke while on the phone. “She left the house party around midnight…Right…They looked for her but she wandered off in the rain…Right…”

Luke’s stomach tensed as Raeburn continued.

“Wearing sneakers…Jeans…Right…A pink top…”

Pink.

His heart ready to burst, Luke slid his hand into his pocket, feeling the plastic bag holding the small piece of fabric.

“…it’s a pink pullover hoodie…over a black T-shirt with a US flag…Right…Thanks.” Ending the call, Raeburn turned to Luke. “You got that?”

Luke had shoved the plastic bag deep into his pocket and was busy tapping notes into his phone.

“Yes, sir, I got that.”

Later, driving through the city, he pulled the bag with the piece of pink fabric bearing a single pink button from his pocket and tossed it into the wind.