CHAPTER NINE
Ilse glanced through the sunroof at the thin wisps of cloud cover introducing across the sunny, summer sky. Afternoon had now turned to early evening. The journey from the preserve had taken less than a half hour. As the tires scraped against the sidewalk and Sawyer pulled the sedan to a stop, Ilse glanced through the window, past a broken mailbox. Half the mailbox post still jutted up, an accusing finger of wood, but the metal box itself lay discarded amidst overgrown weeds at the base of the post.
Her eyes drifted from the broken box towards the small house set against the backdrop of the forest preserve and a thin, wire-mesh fence distinguishing the property line.
Ilse stepped out of the car first, standing beneath the sunny, evening sky, part of her hoping the arrival o
