CHAPTER 22
Steadman stared, his heart sinking like a ball of lead in his chest. He and Frost had finally made it to the island where Rico Ferguson lived but the sight that greeted them was not encouraging. The piers of the bridge had vanished, completely submerged, and several pieces of decking floated in fragments, creaking as they strained against each other in the tossing water. Only traces of the railing remained to show where the bridge had once stretched between the two land masses.
Steadman wasn’t surprised to see it, but he couldn’t crush the wave of frustration that washed over him. If murder had been committed on the island, the logistics of processing the scene and transporting the victim would be greatly complicated without a connection to the mainland.
He glanced at Frost.
