could sympathize somewhat. In France, people didn’t express their affection in the same way with complete strangers. There had been times in Paris where Adele had walked down a street without a single person nodding or waving at her. She supposed John would have to acclimate on this side of the pond.
The car took them away from the airport, along the stretch of highway, meandering through the traffic, and then heading north, toward where the body had been dumped.
Through the duration of the journey, Agent Carter tried to strike up a conversation, and while Adele answered his queries in short, single-syllable responses, John ignored him completely. Eventually, even the gregarious agent fell quiet. The sky was laden with clouds, and more swept in across the horizon. A gray tinge eventually fell over the highway, like a funeral procession heralding their approach. Adele shivered, leaning against the side of the car, her head resting against the cool glass as she endeavored to parse out what she knew about the case.
They reached the crime scene about thirty minutes later. By now, some of John’s bad mood had rubbed off on Agent Carter. The happy-go-lucky young agent from San Francisco had lost some of the spark in his Labrador eyes, and he wasn’t smiling anymore.
Which, coincidentally, meant John was.
The tall agent stretched his legs and stepped out of the vehicle onto the small, wooded path. Adele followed suit, and was immediately assailed by the scent of oak and stale sap. Pinpoint leaves scattered the ground, but sweeping crews had been by, dusting off the trail. The edges of the road were lined with large piles of these gathered leaves, and Adele spotted rustling and trembling detritus, suggesting a squirrel or chipmunk had found a safe haven amidst the dross.
She walked along a cracked asphalt road that seemed in poor use.
“Body’s not here anymore,” said Agent Carter, briskly, lest he entice John’s ire again. He waved a hand toward the trees. “Couple of joggers found her. Bled dry.”
Adele looked around and said, “This wasn’t the scene where she was killed?”
Agent Carter shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it. No blood spatter. She was dumped here.”
Adele and John moved toward three orange traffic cones set up in a triangular shape which marked out where the body had been discovered in the center of the road. She nudged John and nodded. “Think he just pushed her out of the back of a car?”
John scratched his chin. He replied in English, his accent thick. “Possibly. Could’ve come from the woods?”
Adele looked to the trees, and at the slope angle leading up to the trail. She pointed further down the path. “Would’ve dumped her there if from the woods. The trail on either side here is too steep. Would’ve made our killer’s job a ton harder, lugging a body up this way.” She hummed in thought and shook her head in finality. “No—I think he was in a car. Dumped her in the middle of the road now that he was done with her.”
Adele and John moved along the trail a bit longer, but there was nothing much to find. The body had been taken to the morgue, and the report would be forthcoming. Beyond that, other vehicles had come through, ruining any potential chance at finding tire tracks.
Still, one could never be too careful. “We should photograph the road,” she said to Agent Carter.
He nodded. “On it. Agent Grant suggested the same.”
Adele smiled softly at the mention of her old boss. “This wine-making shop—Artisan’s Supplies… how far is it?”
“Only two miles,” he stammered.
“Take us.”
A short trip later, John and Adele once again stepped out of the vehicle. Agent Carter also disembarked, and now, seemingly intent on earning Renee’s trust, he was trying to be more helpful than before. This, Adele knew, would only irritate John further. But she decided to let it play out.
“Here, Agent Renee, I can help with the door.”
“Stop,” John grunted.
Agent Carter had to jerk his hand back before getting it slammed in the doorjamb. John looked at the younger agent. “Which one is the victim’s car?”
Agent Carter looked delighted he had something to offer that John needed. “Here,” he said, quickly, “look, just right here.” He gestured toward a vehicle in the nearly empty lot.
A couple of other cars were tucked around beside the building, and Adele’s eyes flicked up, noticing a white security camera facing the parking lot. She nudged John and pointed.
He nodded, but then approached the indicated vehicle—an old, white