The detective did not look away from the screen.
Neither did I.
The garage camera had frozen on a woman standing beside my daughter’s car, one hand holding Rachel’s phone and the other gripping a spare key fob.
Sunlight struck the diamond bracelet beneath her sleeve.
I knew that bracelet.
Everyone in the room knew it.
Tyler’s mother, Evelyn, wore it so often that it had become part of her identity.
