Waking Evil 02 by Kylie Brant Page B

than days or weeks, moving the investigation into a much faster pace.

    “Everythin’s there except the latents, casts of footprints, and fibers. Rollins will probably want to have a deputy deliver it all, but you can put the request in when you stop by his office.” Switching topics, Powell went on, “Matthews is out makin’ a second pass on the interviews of the kids. I’m door knockin’ on the properties fringin’ the woods to see if anyone claims to have seen anythin’ that night.”

    From the disgust in his voice, his lack of progress was clear. But Ramsey asked anyway. “Getting anywhere?”

    “Lot of nothin’ so far. People who don’t like talkin’ to law-enforcement types.” The phone crackled, as if he were traveling farther out of range. “Give me a call when you finish at the sheriff’s office. I could use a hand out here.”

    After promising to do so, Ramsey disconnected and went outside, jogging across the parking lot to where two people were standing near the mobile lab and the midsized SUV that had followed it in.

    “You two must have really pissed Raiker off to have drawn this duty,” she joked, joining Abbie Phillips and Ryne Robel next to the lab. “Where’s Jonesy?”

    “Inside unpacking his baby.” Robel stretched then slipped one arm around his petite wife. “And Raiker sent us because we’re on our way to Lexington.”

    A dart of jealousy stabbed her. “Get out.” She gave Abbie a light shove. “You two are working the Lexington child-snatching case?”

    Her friend nodded, satisfied. “That’s right.”

    “How about you?” Ryne’s faint Boston accent sounded foreign to Ramsey’s ears after only a day of the rural dialect of Buffalo Springs. “How’s the case shaping up?”

    She gave them a rundown in a few succinct sentences, welcoming the chance to bounce even a few of the details off her colleagues. Both looked pensive for a moment. “Jeffries is making your job IDing the victim a bit difficult with the media blackout.”

    “I’ve got an idea I’ll be following up tomorrow, or as soon as Bledsoe faxes back a likeness to distribute. We’ll keep it out of the press unless we have no choice.”

    The other two nodded. They worked with her at Raiker Forensics, Ryne most recently when he quit his job as a Savannah police detective to move closer to Abbie. Both were familiar with the dynamics politics could play on a case.

    “Maybe the killer’s a ghost and the red mist is its disappearing act,” Ryne suggested, sober-faced.

    “You’re a funny guy. I’m surprised Abbie hasn’t beaten that sense of humor out of you yet.” The other woman was lethal with Muy Thai.

    “She’s tried,” Ryne’s grin was wicked. “But I’m a fast runner.”

    Abbie checked her watch. “Uh-oh. We need to get moving to make it to Lexington for our case briefing.” She and Ryne moved in tandem to the car.

    “Good luck,” Ramsey called as she headed toward the sleek black RV. The pair waved and got in the vehicle.

    It still gave her sort of a jolt to see Abbie with Ryne, relaxed and . . . happy was probably the word she was looking for. A few months ago Ramsey would have guessed the woman was destined to remain as solitary as she was herself.

    But Abbie’s new relationship, as unexpected as it was, wouldn’t be affecting Ramsey’s lifestyle. She’d long ago learned that a no-strings private life worked out the best for her in the long run.

    She climbed the two steps to the lab and pulled the door over. “Jonesy. Ready to go to work?”

    “You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.” The most brilliant scientist on the Raiker team—and that was saying something—pulled his head out of a lower cupboard for a minute to glare at her. With his smooth baby face, he looked like a twelve-year-old on the verge of a tantrum. “It’s going to take hours to get organized. And I still have to get hooked up to a water and electrical source. The supply I have