When a thumb, index finger, and ear were found in the canyon at the end of their block, Elspeth did not initially consider her husband Jonah a suspect. It was only after the detective came by that she began to feel uneasy.
Most people who came to their house stood at the gate by the street and shouted “Hello!,” intimidated by their barking dogs. But not the detective. He came straight to their front door. Maybe he was reassured by the fact that he was wearing a gun under his navy suit jacket. Or maybe he just had a way with dogs. He patted their bigger dog, a pit mix, absentmindedly while he asked his questions. Elspeth answered each question as thoroughly as she could. She wished she had more to contribute. And she agreed, of course, to let the detective’s uniformed colleagues go through their garbage bins.
That night, Elspeth couldn’t wait to tell Jonah about the detective’s visit. It was a fizzy change from the daily reports on kids’ activities, or her work writing copy for movie trailers, which was not even of much interest to her. But as she was recounting her exchange with Detective Brandon Espinoza, she started to feel strange.
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