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32

“The victim was a reporter for the Daily Post. Her name was…' He consulted the clipboard. “Misty Sharpe. It looks like she was leaving the archaeological site to conduct more research. She stopped here, parked the car and walked a few meters before someone attacked her and ripped her throat out.

My head spun. Was Misty dead? I spoke to her yesterday. Your ridiculous article was on the Internet this morning. How could she be dead? And who would have done such a thing? Rip out her throat, like a wild animal...

The cop gave me a pointed look.

“She was coming here to talk to you, Miss Sinclair. Apparently, there was an article about you published this morning, and Misty was hoping for a follow-up. Sounds like you're…” He consulted his notes. I could see he had a printout of Misty's article. — Warm and unapologetic about her part in her boyfriend's mysterious death.

My face burned. Death followed me everywhere, it seems. My mind spun with memories of the police at my house, asking for info
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