but he couldn’t count on her getting quick results. He and the others were going to have to crack this case the old-fashioned way, with good solid police work.
15
Ronan
Two hours later, and Ronan was still trying to figure out if what Bertha had to say was a crock of shit, an absolute possibility, or the answer to the puzzle. He’d never given it a second thought that Skye could have been the killer and had been double-crossed or outplayed at her own game.
Now, he was sitting in the Mustang, waiting for Ten and the others, so they could drive out to the crime scene. In the years Ronan had lived in Salem, he’d been in the Salem Towne Forest a dozen times, almost dying once, and he never knew a murder had been committed there.
Ten running out of the Magick shop brought him back to the present. He was carrying a piece of paper in his hand, which was flapping in the stiff December breeze. Carson and Cole trailed behind him. Ten opened the door to let the brothers into the backseat. “Sorry we took so long. I realized the forest is a big place and we didn’t know exactly where the body had been discovered, so I printed a map.”
“A map of the forest? How is that going to help?” Ronan started the car and pulled out into traffic. He saw Fitzgibbon, Jude, and Cope pull out behind him.
“No, Ronan, it’s a map of how to get to the spot where the murder occurred.” Tennyson sounded amused by Ronan’s confusion.
“There’s maps like that on the internet?” What the hell was this world coming to? Ronan knew murder was big business, but it chilled him to the bone that it was a market the internet catered to.
“Yeah, there’s this website called Murder Maps. You can type in the name of a murdered person and it gives directions on how to get to the crime scene.” Carson sounded as if he didn’t quite believe what he was saying.
“All that matters right now is you being able to get us to the actual murder scene.” Ronan would reckon with Murder Maps later.
It started to snow as Ronan pulled the Mustang into the parking lot of the Salem Towne Forest. “This brings back memories.”
“For us too,” Carson agreed. He’d been the one who’d driven Tennyson to this very spot on the night they’d almost been killed.
Ten rubbed the scar on his shoulder. “Okay, enough of our glory days. Let’s do this.” He pulled the seat forward for Carson and Cole to hop out of the car.
“We’re all here,” Fitzgibbon said as he joined the group. “Where to?”
“Straight ahead.” Carson pointed, and then took off with Cole at his side.
Ronan noticed Tennyson hanging back. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I wanted to be last so I could take everything in as we walk. We’ve been here so many times before, and I’ve never felt anything remotely connected to this case. I’m hoping that if I concentrate and take it slowly, something will pop.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be quiet and stay behind you.” There was no way Ronan was going to let his husband out of his sight in a creepy, snow-covered forest.
He kept his word, but for the way his boots crunched in the frozen snow. Ronan didn’t know how this little field trip was going to turn out, but what he did know was that he was freezing his ass off. According to a little research he’d done before lunch, the temperature the night of the murder was in the twenties. A late November snowstorm had left fourteen inches of snow on the ground, which hadn’t melted in the two weeks between the storm and the murder.
The conditions that night were much like they were today. Ronan thought back to the crime scene photos. Skye was dressed in jeans and a light parka. She was not wearing a hat, scarf, or gloves, like Ronan was now. The teenager must have been cold and getting colder by the minute since twenty percent of body heat escapes through the head.
“Here!” Carson shouted from up ahead.
Ten paused to look at Ronan. “What’s got you frowning?”
“I was walking through here thinking about the conditions of that night. It was ten degrees colder than it is now with about the same snow cover on the ground. Plus, Skye wasn’t dressed for prolonged exposure to the cold.”
“I noticed that too in the crime scene photos. The problem is we don’t know