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“From every angle.”

“Open her hand.”

Will gently released the victim’s fingers. The paper had been folded into a square no larger than a Post-it.

He lifted it with tweezers and placed it inside a clear evidence tray.

“Do you want the honors?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

I unfolded it carefully.

The paper was thick and yellowed with age. It looked like it had been torn from an old letter. A few handwritten words stretched across it in faded black ink.

I leaned closer.

“I’ll be waiting where it began.”

Beneath the message was a hand-drawn symbol.

A tree with a river flowing beneath it.

My heart slammed once against my ribs.

“He’s leaving us a clue.”

Will looked at me. “Do you recognize it?”

I didn’t answer. My brain was trying to remember where I’d seen this.

I stared at the symbol and felt the room close around me.

“This is painted on the sign going into Eagle River.”

“How do you know?” Will asked.

I went to college with a girl named Rylie Tate. Once, during our freshman year, I spent the Fourth of July with her family in Eagle River.

It was painted on the old welcome sign outside Eagle River.

“Judy?” Mills stepped closer. “You need to get to Eagle River.”

“Bag that note.”

Will hesitated. “We still need⁠—”

“Bag it now.”

Something in my voice made him stop arguing.

He slid the paper into an evidence sleeve and sealed it.

Mills watched me. “You know what that means.”

It wasn’t a question.

I looked at the dead woman again. Her painted smile seemed different now. Less like part of his ritual and more like a warning meant specifically for someone in Eagle River.