Hans parked the vehicle in front of the structure and all three of them climbed out. Fenn’s skin prickled and a breeze tickled the back of his neck like invisible fingertips as he scanned the crumbling edifice.
Twenty-five years ago the structure had been dominated by nature, and barely recognizable. He’d expected it to be more of a skeleton, but the stone and bricks had held their own against the creeping vines and stalwart trees that erupted through the cracked floors. The bright flash of yellow police tape was jarring and unsettling against the wild background.
“The police are keeping an eye on the place because Antonio was killed here,” Emery explained.
“Are we allowed to go inside?” Fenn asked, eyeing the police tape.
“Yeah. Hans called in a favor with the local police. Since the
