The trek across town on I-64 took Jacob twenty minutes. He took Exit 195 and continued east on Laburnum. Soon he spotted the blue lights of the squad cars flashing next to a convenience store called Ned's. He parked behind the county's white forensics van. From his trunk he grabbed rubber gloves. Ned's was a one-story building covered in vertical siding painted a muddy red. In a large picture window hung signs for beer, cigarettes, and lottery tickets. The parking lot was crushed gravel. The officers had closed the store and driven off morning patrons. Jacob walked up to the young officer who stood by the yellow crime scene tape, huddled in his jacket, his face pointed down away from the wind. "Officer." The young guy stuck out his hand. "Detective Warwick." "Where's the body?" He stamped his feet to stimulate the circulation in them. "By the Dumpster. Hasn't been there long." Jacob frowned. "How do you know that?" "Ned, the owner of the store, said when he opened the store at five she wasn't there.
