Chapter 17
Marla spoke first. “So what does all this mean?” she demanded impatiently. “Is that Tony’s blood? Albert’s? Or somebody else’s?”
“Here’s my best guess,” I said. “This tube?” I pointed. “This is where the blood came from that ended up spilled all over the shirt in your trunk.”
“But whose blood is it?” she repeated impatiently.
Before any of us could answer, however, Jake darted off, away from the granite outcropping, up the hillside path. Tugged along by his dog, Arch yelled for us to follow. General Bo gave one quick shake of his head, leapt to his feet, and jogged up the path in pursuit. I held Marla’s arm as the two of us struggled to follow.
The rain thickened to icy drops. Thunder rumbled overhead. The shaggy pine needles overhanging the path trembled as the chill rain
