CHAPTER SEVEN
Alexa lay on her bed in the motel on the edge of Flagstaff, trying to unwind. They had spent the rest of the afternoon checking on Elaine’s story, finding that she really had been working at the time of the murder. They also found no evidence that Thomas had anything to do with it either, despite a long session of grilling down at the station. Analysis of the phone had revealed that it had been wiped of prints. Not even Helen Beachy’s prints were on it.
Someone was playing tricks on them, and it didn’t seem like they’d get any good leads until the killers made their next move.
Alexa sighed, wiping her eyes as she lay on the lumpy bed. Even though she hadn’t done much physical activity today, her whole body was a mass of aches and pains.
She didn’t feel much better inside.
