Scene Of The Crime: Means And Motive

“Nothing quite so grand. We need to chase down all the men Kevin said he was with Sunday night and confirm his alibi.”

“Even if his alibi is confirmed until around midnight, that doesn’t clear him for the murder, which took place much later than that,” she replied.

“True, but in order to make a solid record, we need to corroborate everything.” He pulled into the parking lot of a small place called Subs and Such.

“I’ll just run in and grab something,” she said. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got some leftover meat loaf waiting for me at home.”

It took her only minutes to get a submarine sandwich, several bags of chips and peanuts and then return to the car. All she wanted now was a long soak in the tub and time to put the mirrors and her memories behind her.

She might not have been woman enough to make her marriage work and she might not have been the daughter her parents wanted her to be, but she was one hell of an FBI agent. That was all she needed to be.

“Do you want me to drive into the station tomorrow morning or are you planning on picking me up?” she asked once they were back in the Diamond Cove parking lot.

“Why don’t I come here around seven in the morning to get you? That way I can start the day with one of Joan’s breakfasts.”

“Sounds good to me.” She gathered her purse and the white bag holding her sandwich and snacks. “Then I’ll see you in the dining room at seven in the morning.”

She gladly escaped the car and stepped into the cold night. She just needed a little time to get herself centered again. The little foray through the maze of mirrors had definitely shaken her up more than she’d expected.

She carried both her purse and her bag of food in her left hand, leaving her right hand to rest on the butt of her gun as she made her way down the path toward her cabin.

The night was once again silent around her and smelled of the clean evergreen that reminded her of Gabriel’s attractive woodsy cologne.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she reached her door. She stepped into the warmth of the room and noticed a folded white piece of paper that had apparently been slid beneath the door at some point while she’d been gone.

It was probably something from Joan and Ted, perhaps concerning breakfast the next morning.

She dropped her purse and the sandwich bag on the coffee table and then picked up the paper. She unfolded it and a sizzle of adrenaline whipped through her as she read the message written in red block letters.

U R Next.

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