Page 65 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 61

Seabrook, New Hampshire

T hey definitely did not cover what I’m about to do at Columbia Law.

I’m trained as a lawyer but thinking like a damn criminal.

What the hell has happened to me?

I need to put a crucial piece of evidence back where I found it—then make sure the police find it.

It’s barely twilight and I’m trying to follow the same path Garrett and I took through the park last night.

I don’t see any hikers, but I freeze every time I hear skittering in the underbrush.

I duck down behind a tree and watch for moving shadows.

I hear it again. Too light to be human.

Probably a squirrel, right?

This is no place for a girl from Bed-Stuy.

When I get to the big memorial rock, I orient myself and plunge through the thicket into the small clearing.

I’m wearing my work gloves, but I didn’t bring a shovel.

I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.

All I brought was an ice scraper from the trunk of the Subaru.

I kneel down and brush a section of leaves aside, then use the ice scraper to dig down through the soft dirt.

Six inches… twelve inches…

I cannot believe I’m doing this.

Two feet now. My forearms are covered in dirt.

At three feet down, I lean back, breathing hard.

Enough. I sit there for a moment looking around, listening for sounds, watching for shapes.

I pull the plastic bag out of my pocket and take out the tennis bracelet.

I drop it into the hole I just dug.

Suzanne, I hope this helps bring you home.