25
TO COVER ONE’S TRACKS
Saint Tammany Parish, along the edge of Interstate 12
When they finally got out of the patrol car on the other side of the wall, the afternoon Louisiana sun was blazing. Jana could feel the heat on her back, and the humidity made it hard to breathe.
“There’s the hole in the wall,” Virgil said.
Jana again asked, “Are you sure the crime lab technicians never examined this side of the wall?”
“Yes, ma’am. Absolutely.”
Kyle said, “We should approach slowly. We don’t want to step on any evidence.”
“There’s not going to be any,” Cade said.
“Leave it alone, Cade,” Jana said.
A tractor-trailer rumbled by and the vibrations under their feet were only paralleled by the blast of wind that accompanied it.
“Kyle,” Jana said, “look at that.”
“Look at what?”
“Over the
