Trace jumped from his vehicle and rushed forward, but a uniformed cop held up a hand, blocking his way. “Sorry, sir, but you need to step back.” What he needed was to find out what the hell was happening. As if on cue, a dark van pulled up behind him. The side of the van held two simple words written in garish yellow: County Coroner. Then he saw her. Trace caught a glimpse of Skye’s dark hair as she bent near the side of a patrol car. She was climbing into the back seat of that cruiser. Being arrested? He lunged toward her. “Skye!” Her head turned at his call, and the man next to her straightened. Trace wasn’t particularly surprised to see Alex Griffin there. “What happened?” Trace demanded. He wanted to reach for Skye and pull her into his arms, but after the scene last night, he didn’t know how she’d react to his touch. To him. “I found Parker’s body.” Her voice was low. His heart wouldn’t slow down. “He’d been stabbed. And his throat was slit.” And she’d seen that.
