“We are about to inform their attorney,” Sloan said.

The light in the gravel parking lot was gray and thin, the afternoon sun hidden behind a low shelf of clouds.

Evelyn stood near the rear bumper of a blue police cruiser, her wool coat buttoned to her throat.

Her gold wedding band was bright against the dark fabric of her gloves as she gripped her purse.

“Mara,” she whispered.

Her voice was thin, the words coming in the quick, desperate gasps she used when Caleb was shouting in the kitchen.