CHAPTER EIGHT
"I don't like being back here while it's getting late," Ilse grumbled, frowning through the window as they maneuvered back into the parking lot outside Ben Connolly's scrapyard.
"You have a better idea?" Tom asked.
Ilse sighed and shook her head. She reclined in the car seat, staring towards the towers of crushed automobiles, metal containers, scraps, and old appliances. She paid particular attention to the rusted, metal gate as they passed through.
Sawyer came to a complete halt just inside, pulling off to the edge of the road. He parked, pushed open the door, one lanky leg jutting out into the dirt. He looked back at her. "This is the same shift when Matthew was discovered. These guys were all here when the car was pulled into the lot and the body was posed."
Ilse shiv
