Read Online Shadow Fall (Tracers Series Book 9) by Laura Griffin - Free Book Online

second victim was discovered not far from his home, too. Coincidence, you think?”
    “Maybe.”
    Tara turned back to her computer, not sure why she resisted the idea of Liam Wolfe as a suspect in the Jane Doe killing. He was definitely a suspect in Catalina’s death. And it wasn’t clear at the moment whether Catalina’s murder and Jane Doe’s were linked.
    She thought about him back at his ranch, heaving lumber around like it was nothing. Certainly, he was physically capable, but the more she thought about him, the more she had trouble with the whole idea.
    “I don’t know. I keep thinking about it—” She glanced at M.J., whose eyes were shut now. “M.J., go to bed . Seriously. It’s almost midnight.”
    She sighed.
    “I mean it.”
    M.J. groaned and pulled herself to her feet. “I’m going. Don’t let me oversleep.” She grabbed her key card off the table. “We’re meeting with the Silver Springs police chief at eight.”
    “Want the leftover pizza?” Tara nodded at the box.
    “You keep it.”
    After she left, Tara returned her attention to the screen. Her eyes felt gritty. She rewound the tape again, cursing herself for not being pushier. She should have stood up to Ingram that first night. She should have called a halt to what he was doing and insisted on waiting for an FBI evidence response team. Instead she’d tried to be diplomatic, and now the original crime scene had been trampled on, driven on, rained on, and otherwise screwed up beyond repair. And there was no turning back the clock.
    Tara rubbed her eyes and tapped play. Again. By now, she’d memorized the entire eighteen-minute loop. Deputy Lardass circles the fire pit, zooming in on beer cans and cigarette butts and evidence markers. He pans to the trees and then jerks back again, yelling at one of the deputies to get his butt over here, he missed a can. He tromps down the trail leading to the body, obliterating footprints and other possible evidence with his big boots. He pauses at the edge of the clearing, muttering softly as the body comes into view. Sheriff Ingram is standing there, his face twisted with revulsion. He waves his deputy over and orders him to get a 360-degree view of the area.
    Tara sighed and picked up a pizza crust. She nibbled on it, watching the wobbly footage.
    More back-and-forth with Ingram. The camera jerks down as the deputy picks up a spotlight. More wobbling as he adjusts the camera. He pans it around the scene, and the next six minutes is a collage of leaves, twigs, tree stumps, and pine needles, with the occasional glimpse of the deputy’s boots as he combs the woods surrounding the crime scene.
    Tara sat upright. She hit pause, then backed up the footage.
    She watched again—leaves, twigs, tree stumps. A gnarled root.
    “There.” She hit pause and used the touch pad on her computer to zoom in.
    Something small and white amid the leaves. A cigarette butt.
    “Son of a bitch.” Tara’s pulse was thrumming. It was right there. Physical evidence, possibly DNA evidence, just a stone’s throw from the body. And it hadn’t been marked or flagged.
    She chewed her lip, thinking. She reached for her phone to call M.J., then changed her mind.
    “Damn it.”
    Tara stood up and glanced around. Her motel room was a sea of files and clothes and empty fast-food cups. She grabbed her jacket and checked the battery on her phone. Twenty percent. She stuffed it into her pocket.
    Then she strapped on her holster and reached for her keys.

CHAPTER FIVE

     
    T ara dipped over the low-water bridge, her headlights illuminating the narrow road. She rattled over the cattle guard, then rounded a bend and rolled to a stop before a police barricade.
    She cut the engine and stared at the barrier. What was the point of it? The remote outdoor crime scene was impossible to wall off, so the wooden barricade did little more than signal to the morbidly curious that they’d found the right place.
    Tara grabbed the heavy Maglite from