CHAPTER EIGHT
Rylie stared at her GPS as they drove toward Billings, her ringing phone to her ear.
“You really think this guy’s just going to be hanging out at whatever rest stop we go to?” Michael was saying. “If he’s the killer, he’s not just going to be sitting there, waiting for us to come get him.”
“Obviously,” she murmured. “But the fact remains that he saw Neez Ramirez. So he’s our best bet.”
There was a click at the other end of the phone, and a voice said, “Hey, Rylie.”
“Hi, Beeker. Can you give me an idea of the rest stops around Billings, on I-86?”
A pause. “Nice to talk to you, too, Ry. Cheery as always.”
She rolled her eyes. Beeker was the young IT guy on their team. He and Michael had a bond, but she’d yet to establish much of one with him. She just hadn’t had the time
