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But that wasn’t the only worry slithering around her brain. She didn’t know what it was, but it was there. “Lord, help. Give me Your guidance and protection.”
He watched from his car as she drove away. The cops quickly left the scene after her. His fingers wrapped around the steering wheel as anger shot through him. This was the second time she barged into the place he was searching. The woman was becoming a complication he couldn’t afford. Joyce had uncovered the truth and threatened him with it. He wanted that proof destroyed.
He would find it, no matter what it took. He wouldn’t go to prison. Not again.
Daniel finished taking down the last license plate from the cars parked on the road beside the grave, then slipped the small spiral notebook into the inside pocket of his sport jacket. He’d run checks on cars and their owners when he got back to the office, then compare notes with what his partner turned up. Hopefully, Raul had tracked down Joyce’s family.
He walked over the sand and stones to the grave site and joined the mourners. There were only a handful of people. Elena and her mother, Preston Jones, Cam McGinnis, Carolyn Ellis from the homeless shelter, and Susan and Jeff Marks, owners of Mama Rose’s Cantina.
“Lord,” the minister began, “accept the spirit of our sister and comfort those who grieve for her, we pray. Amen.”
Each person held a rose and as they filed by the coffin, they put a rose on the closed lid. When Elena looked up, she stopped.
“Detective Stillwater.”
Before he could respond, Cam McGinnis moved behind Elena. His expression and the set of his body signaled the coming flare-up.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
The words exploded in the silence of the overcast morning.
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