He could feel his heart bouncing in his chest and knew he needed to get a grip on things. Take a step back, keep the details at bay and let the rest of the day just blow.

He eased the car onto Lincoln Drive and started through the woods, following the narrow S curves two miles up the hill. Turning right, he raced down West Allens Lane and made a left at the light onto Germantown Avenue. The road was cobblestoned, the Corolla vibrating over the choppy surface as he pushed past the trolley station and entered the quaint old town twenty miles an hour over the speed limit. Many of the buildings lining the street were over two hundred years old. Antique shops and art galleries whizzed by, along with restaurants and fashionable boutiques that could afford the high rent. He could see people on the sidewalks carrying packages to their cars. Most likely they were gifts for the holidays—the kind you couldn’t buy from a chain store at the mall.

Teddy glanced at the address Jill had written down. 931 Scottsboro Road. He made another left, leaving the shopping district behind and entering a neighborhood of homes that seemed to grow in stature with each passing block. When he hit a stop sign, he looked down the street to his right and caught the flashing lights atop a long row of police cars. This was it, he thought, making the turn onto Scottsboro Road and finding a place to park behind a news van five houses down.

A small crowd had formed in front of the death house. As Teddy walked up the wooded street, he could see people being held back by crime scene tape that looked as if it extended deep into the property. Cops in uniforms stood behind the tape, one with a clipboard who checked off names as various people were let through. Another cop, this one dressed in a suit, stood off to the side and spoke with the press. Teddy’s eyes moved to the fence in the neighbor’s yard. When his view cleared, he got his first look at the Lewis house. It was a three-story Tudor, probably built in the 1890s, set on a well-planted, two-acre lot. On any other day, he would have called it majestic. But not today. Not with the medical examiner’s van parked on the snow-covered lawn and backed up to the front door with its rear gate open.

Teddy grimaced, but kept walking until he reached the cop with the clipboard. He gave the man his name and told him who he worked for. What seemed like a long, icy stare followed before the cop grabbed the radio mike clipped to his parka and spoke with someone inside. Ignoring the black vibes, Teddy turned back to the death house. If the medical examiner was still here, then so was the body. That meant there was a chance Teddy would have to look at it. His eyes fell away from the van. He noticed an attractive woman with blond hair standing in the doorway with a two-way radio in her hand. She was staring at him. After a moment, she nodded at the cop with the clipboard.