CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
The Tobin Bridge housed six lanes of US Highway 1 and crossed over Mystic River. It was a double-deck truss bridge that sat a little more than two hundred and fifty feet over the water at its highest point. As the bridge came into view, Avery was pretty sure that anyone trying to remain at least somewhat private in their actions would stay away from the middle of the bridge where morning traffic would be at its thickest.
She knew that the deck beneath the bridge would be the most probable location for Barry Kechner to do his demented work. Doing it off of the upper deck where traffic zoomed by in the morning would be opening himself up to being caught easily. On the lower deck, he’d only have joggers and pedestrians to worry about. And given the cold weather, she dou
