47 Fredericksburg, Virginia“Where were the woods located?” Maggie wanted to know.
The pizza had arrived, and she practically elbowed Turner out of the way to grab a slice. She was starving.
“I tell you we found the body that might be a match for our spleen à la mode and you want directions?” He was shaking his head at her.
“What are you thinking, Maggie?” Delaney asked.
“How many driving hours is it from Richmond to Boston?”
“I used to drive from New York to the District,” Gwen offered. “It’s about four hours. To Boston is another four, maybe four and a half.”
“And it’s almost two hours from D.C. to Richmond,” Turner said. “So nine or ten hours. That’s a long drive with a dead body in your trunk.”
“Tells us our boy doesn’t mind picking up and moving to a whole new area,” Delaney sai
