“A rock?”
“Take a look.” Reed pulled out his phone and sorted through several pictures he’d taken at the scene. When he found the shots of the rock, he handed the phone to Jamison. “The stone is clean. Polished. The weather has been bad, lots of rain and wind, debris everywhere. And there were no insects or larvae or eggs under it. Nothing but bent grass. It might have come from Billy’s pocket … but …” Reed thought hard, watching a white cat slink behind a potted palm. “Like I said, probably nothing.”
“You think it was placed under the body by the killer?”
“I wouldn’t go that far yet, but it seemed out of place, even with all the clutter in the barnyard.” Reed watched the cat hop nimbly onto a table and then the top of the fence. “Huber was an odd duck, no doubt about it. A hoarder. Junk everywhere, except for paths and walkways and a small clearing where the body was found.”
Jamison narrowed his eyes as he studied the picture of the rock. “What’s the significance of the number? Nine, right?”
“Or six. Impossible to tell.”
“A rock with a number scratched into it … hmm.”
“Not scratched. Etched. Probably with some kind of specialized tool,” Reed added. He’d learned that much from the lab where it was being tested. “We’re trying to make sense of it.” He pointed to his phone. “Take a look at the next shot of the other side of the rock.”
Jamison swiped the screen and squinted at the image. “Writing of some kind.”
“Looks like.”
“A message?” Jamison frowned as he handed the phone back to Reed. “That someone, presumably the killer, placed under Huber’s body?”
“Maybe it’s just another piece of his junk collection.”
“Or a talisman?”
“A talisman?” Reed shook his head at the thought of the stone being a good luck charm. “If it was, it was a piss-poor one. The only luck Billy Huber had was bad.”
Chapter 7
“Oh, look at you, Chocolate Face,” Nikki said, taking Chloe from her sister’s arms. Nikki had heard the car approach and hurried down the stairs and out the front door just as Lily released Chloe from her car seat.
“We ran out of wipes,” Lily explained, squinting against the lowering sun. “I thought I had an extra pack in my bag, but as it turned out, no.”
“No worries, I’ll clean her up.”
“Ice cream,” Chloe said, a grin splitting her messy face.
Nikki nuzzled her little cheek. “I can see.”
At that moment, Phee climbed out of the car. Wearing earbuds and clutching her iPhone, she bopped her head to music only she could hear as she walked into the house.
“Taylor Swift,” Lily explained, as they headed into the house. “I swear she knows the lyrics to every song.”
“Like you did. Only it was Michael Jackson or Justin Timberlake.”
“J.T.,” Lily said, remembering. “Okay, fine.” Lily agreed, walking inside, where the air conditioning was rumbling. She dropped her bag onto the floor in the hallway next to the console table and warned, “I’m not cooking. I know it’s my night, but I figure I did my duty with Mom.”
“How is she?”
“Irascible. Picky. Snobby. Basically the same. And that country club …” Lily gave a fake shudder. “The worst. Shoot me if I ever start turning into her.”
“No chance of that.”
“I don’t know. Remember Janey Cartwright? She was in Andrew’s class, I think.” Lily paused and whispered, “God rest his soul.” Their older brother had been gone for years, but his early death still brought with it a low-level pain and grief from which their family had never quite recovered.
“Janey Cartwright? Not ringing any bells,” Nikki said.
“In high school, she smoked and drank and was always high. God knows what drugs she was on, and she dressed—well, she kind of had this whole Madonna Goth vibe going on. Fingerless gloves, skirts over jeans, thick eyeliner, and dark eye shadow, like that.”
