Page 50 of Liar's Point

Nicole tipped her head to the side. “She seemed... optimistic.”

“Yeah?” Emmet felt a glimmer of hope for the first time all day. Miranda was the best CSI he’d ever worked with. If she felt optimistic about the potential for DNA, that was a good sign.

Nicole’s brow furrowed. “And you heard about the fibers, right?”

“Yeah, like she was zipped into a duffel bag.”

She shook her head. “That’s really sick.”

“I know.”

Just the thought of Aubrey’s parents learning that detail made his stomach turn. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel to know something like that happened to your daughter.

“The livor mortis pattern makes it look like the bag was sitting on something in the trunk,” Emmet said. “You notice anything back there? I haven’t had a chance to look at the car photos yet.”

Nicole seemed to think about it. “There was a flashlight. One of those mini ones? It was in a case with batteries.”

After meeting Aubrey’s father, Emmet could picture him giving his daughter a flashlight to keep in her car for safety. He seemed like a protective dad.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“A tire iron. About, I don’t know”—she held her hands up almost eighteen inches apart—“this long, maybe? Could that have been it?”

“Possibly. I’ll have to take a look at the pictures and study the scale.”

Nicole took a sip of wine. “So... the lab was okay, in terms of getting new info. The rest of my day was crap, though.” Frustration sparked in her eyes. “Did I tell you I ran into Green Truck Guy?”

“No.”

“Well, I thought it was him,” she said. “It was this afternoon. I had to respond to a call in Sunset Shores.”

“The golf cart theft.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I had just taken the report and was leaving the neighborhood when I spotted this teal green pickup truck. It was a landscaping contractor, and his crew was planting palm trees at one of the houses there. This guy even had a black dog with him, too. I was sure it was him.”

“And?”

“And I pulled over to interview him.” She shook her head. “He had no idea what I was talking about. Said he wasn’t on the beach that day.”

Emmet watched her expression. “You don’t believe him?”

She shrugged.

“Why would he lie?” Emmet asked.

“I don’t know. That’s the thing. But I could swear he was lying. I mean, he had a black dog in his truck with him. What are the odds?”

The server was back again, this time with two baskets heaped with fried shrimp and French fries.

“Anyway, it’s just so frustrating.” Nicole handed Emmet the Tabasco sauce, and he shook it over his food. “How is it possible I can’t turn up a single decent witness on our most popular beach? Even in the dead of winter, people are back and forth there.”

He picked up a fry. “We’ve got three potential witnesses, not none.”

“Yeah, but why do I feel like I’m not getting a straight answer out of anyone?” She dunked a shrimp in tartar sauce. “Green Truck Guy says he wasn’t there, but I can sense he’s not telling the truth. And this runner says he was there but didn’t see a damn thing—not a single car or person, nothing.”

“What about the yoga teacher?” Emmet asked. “Anything new with her?”

“Nothing, really, just more strange vibes from her whenever I question her. She’s being evasive for some reason.” Nicole leaned forward. “You know, even her place was off.”

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