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She lifted the chain carefully,holding the dog tags up to the light.
“Rosalind’s?” Simon asked.
Amber shook her head. “The name onthe dog tags is different. E. Hunter. Now, why would his dog tags be here, atthe scene of her murder?”
“I don’t know,” Simon said. “Maybewe ask him.”
Amber nodded. Compared to all theother leads they’d had on this case, this one was direct. They had a name leftbehind at a murder scene. They had to track it down.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“I know who E. Hunter is,” Ambersaid, as she and Simon drove back into Keystone. “Euan Hunter, ex-military, thesame as our victim. The information I’ve found suggests that they may haveserved in the same unit.”
Which only raised Amber’ssuspicions. If the victim and the man whose dog tags they’d found at the scenehad some kind of connection, would that connection lead to a motive for murder?
“Do you have an address for him?”Simon asked.
“Not in the files. I’ll need tocheck the DMV.” Now that they had a name, Amber was determined to talk to thisman and find out what connection, if any, he had to this case.
She started to look through the DMVfor him and quickly found an address. It wasn’t in Keystone, but it was justa little way outside, on a farm that was close enough that he would have hadready access to the town.
Meaning that he was close enoughthat he could have committed all three murders. Amber didn’t want to jump toany conclusions about this man, not yet, but she needed an explanation why hisdog tags had been found at a murder scene.
“I’ve got the address,” Amber said,showing it to Simon. “I’ll keep trying to look into Hunter while we head overthere.”
“See what you can dig up onRosalind Elm, too,” Simon said. “We still know almost nothing about her.”
That was true. The murder was sofresh that they didn’t have days’ worth of someone else’s investigation to workfrom. They didn’t really have anything more than the most basic information onRosalind at this point: just her name, and the fact that she’d served, probablyalongside Hunter.
Amber dug deeper into that, pullingwhat military records she could in an attempt to find answers.
“It looks as though Rosalind Elmwas doing pretty well in the military when she had to leave. She saw a tour ofduty out in the Middle East. A couple of minor commendations from her superiorofficers. A discharge on medical grounds after an operation where two othersoldiers died.”
“And Hunter?”
“Euan Hunter was in the same unit,”Amber said, piecing what she could find together from the files. “Dischargedshortly after the same incident.”
“Injured along with her?” Simonasked.
“Looks like PTSD,” Amber said.“There’s no mention of physical injuries. They both got back into Keystone alittle over two years ago.”
Was that timing significant? HadEuan Hunter come back from his service in the military and decided that heneeded to start killing? If so, why had there been a gap of two years betweenkills?
Maybe he’d sought help in between.Maybe he’d gotten well for a while, then something had happened more recentlyto set him off killing again. Amber realized that she was thinking about him asa likely suspect now.
Certainly, he had questions heneeded to answer.
It wouldn't be long now before theywould be able to ask him. They were approaching the farm, moving off the mainroad onto a track that led towards a set of farm buildings. Those buildingslooked as if they'd been carefully repaired in recent times, someone workinghard to get them back into shape. There were animals out in the fields, andboth barley and wheat were growing nearby. They drove past a couple of signswarning against trespassing down into the farmyard.
They pulled to a halt and got out,heading over to a farmhouse with a green painted door. Amber knocked on it,waiting for an answer.
“Mr. Hunter. Are you there? We needto talk to you.”
There was no answer from inside, soAmber started to move around the building, looking for signs of life. She andSimon split up, with her going one way, him the other.
Amber made her way over to anoutbuilding, checking it for any sign that Euan Hunter might be there. “Mr.Hunter? I’m with the FBI. We need to talk to you.”
There was no reply, but from theother side of the farm, Amber heard a crash.
