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How could someone have done this here? How could she not have known? What if she had taken the garbage out sooner, would she have caught the irl? Unable to answer any of the questions and frustrated by her powerlessness, Claire considered the facts

The killer had left the body in her Duirl had probably died here Guilt rose like bile She should have known so was amiss and stopped it, or at the very least called the cops Harvest was her restaurant It was her responsibility to protect her guests

The bastard, whoever he ould pay She’d make sure of it

She sto with each step Dry Creek was the kind of place where people said hi to each other when they passed on the street They left their cars unlocked at the mall To outsiders, it was just another railroad town on the flat Nebraska plain, but to the folks who lived here, it was home Home was supposed to be safe

Sure, they had cri toilet-papered Ainto a house in thea car for a joyride Nothing like this She couldn’t remember the last time there had been a murder in Dry Creek

Hank’s backup arrived in a convoy Every deputy, on duty and off, flooded in while Claire glowered from Harvest’s doorway

They swarawked Others talked off to the side with Hank The CSI-type guys laid down numbered cards and snapped photos Yellow cri on top of the bushes and trussing up her Jeep like a macabre Christmas present

No way her Jeep was leaving the parking lot anytiet home now?

She didn’t want a deputy to give her a lift She needed a friendly shoulder and a hug Beth would come pick her up It wouldn’t be the first ti, or been on the receiving end of such a call

An invisible hand squeezed her brain like a sponge Desperate for some aspirin to relieve her tension headache, she headed inside to raid Harvest’s first-aid kit

Her phone vibrated in her hand Without even looking at the screen, she realized Beth’s best-friend-sixth-senseto the police scanner again She’d gotten the scanner for Beth last Christirl had been addicted to it ever since She could picture her now, curled up with a ro a bare-chested man on the cover, her ever-constant cup of coffee on the bedside table and the police scanner buzzing in the background The idea made her smile for the first time in hours

“Beth?”

“Sure, let’s call me Beth,” said an unfamiliar male voice

Claire froze, ice-cold fear solidifying in her veins

“I can see you right now, so pretend you’re talking with Beth That way none of the Barney Fifes end up with holes in their heads”