Mule

Chapter Twelve: Van

"He was blonde," Ana said to the sketch artist. "At least I think he was. I saw some hair poking out from his hat. He was average, maybe a hundred and sixty-five pounds. Medium height, around five-nine or five-ten. Definitely smaller than Mule."

She gave the artist some time to sketch what she'd described so far. Sheriff Sanders decided this case was too much for the small-town cops since the jurisdiction wasn't quite clear. This person could be from Winthrop but also could be from King County.

That morning, a sketch artist from upstate came in as well as a detective from Winthrop who had access to criminal files from the area. The only person they were waiting for now was a detective from out of state. Masters or something along those lines. According to Sanders, this detective was good at what she did.

"His nose was pointed, and he had thin eyebrows. His cheeks were red, not sure if it was from the cold or a natural flush. His eyes were blue . . . or dark . . . I can't remember exactly, but they were large and close together."

The artist added a few more touches then turned the screen around. To think back in the day they solely relied on pencil drawings and now they could do it digitally and alter the face with the software as need. They had to bring in someone with the software, of course. What Ana saw on the screen was exactly who she'd seen in her flashback.

"This look about right?" the kind, old man said. He was dark with the kindest brown eyes and the grey stubble that dusted his chin made him endearing. He had steady hands, no signs of arthritis there just yet.

"Yes, that's exactly right."

Sanders nodded. "Perfect. We'll run this through our system."

Ana let out a long exhale, wringing her hands. The previous day had been hell on earth, but she was slowly getting a handle on things. As her brother suggested, the three of them slept on the queen with Connor in the middle. Ana was relieved to wake up in the same place she'd gone to sleep, but they'd been restless all night, so Connor was a bit of grouch that morning. She left him behind and had Mule accompany her to the station.

She knew the bad-night's sleep wasn't all that made Connor ornery. He hadn't been his usual jocular self after hearing the results of her exam. None of them had. Derek was never too far away, and Connor got snippy at every little thing. Her father was quiet and kept hugging her every chance he got.

"Are you sure this is helpful?" Ana asked. "All these years and I haven't remembered anything until now. What if I'm leading us down the wrong trail?"

"Anything is better than nothing, Bells," Sanders said.

Officer Daniels came around the corner. "Sheriff, we have more news from Seattle on Derek Mueller's clothing. They found traces of soil on the shoes and pants that aren't found in nature. Apparently, it's department store soil, like Miracle Grow or something."

Ana frowned. That made no sense. Why would Derek be tromping around in garden soil? And why would someone have garden soil in the woods where there was plenty of regular soil at anyone's expense? She wanted to ask him, but they had him in another room for questioning. Her brother had to be questioned as well since he was the last person to speak with Chad.

"There's more," Daniels continued. "They tested the rose left in the truck, and there were traces of the same soil."

Sanders crooked his mouth. "Why am I not surprised? Daniels, did we get that court order for the DNA?"

"Yeah, yesterday."

"Good. Tell Jameson to get on that. I'm sure with Mule's amnesia they haven't made any progress."