CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ilse stood by the window on the second floor, murmuring answers beneath her breath as she looked out the window, watching the police and FBI comb through the trees in the park across the street. Other CSI agents were picking through the carpet, and still others had accessed her apartment, sorting through the rooms, looking for any sign of the attacker.
Ilse simply felt numb.
It was nearly one in the morning, and below, she spotted Supervising Agent Rawley talking to two agents, his motions calm, muted as ever. He glanced up, his hand standing out in the beam of light from the parking lot fixtures. He watched her for a moment, through the window. She stared back, motionless.
Part of her felt a jolt of gratitude Rawley himself had shown up.
Perhaps Sawyer was right.
To
