The Hunted Girls by Jenna Kernan (best book club books for discussion txt) 📕

suspected, like her, had limited experience. Death notification generally fell on local law enforcement and to the detectives working the case.

“You have a minimum of three. Usually a detective and two uniforms. In this case, one uniform. That will be the sheriff.”

“Add to that an FBI agent and one forensic psychologist,” said Nadine.

“You, me, Skogen and the sheriff. Yes.”

“He’ll know we have bad news,” she said.

“Yeah. But some part of him will likely hold out hope. First, we try to get him to allow us inside and get him seated. We do a visual sweep to make certain there are no sharp objects or weapons of any sort within easy access.”

“I see. Self-harm, or do you think he might attack us?”

“Both. People are unpredictable.” He paused, then took up the explanation again. “The sheriff is there to present a man in uniform. He grounds us and has our backs. His job is to observe and protect. Step in if things get hostile. I’ll deliver the news and answer all his questions. Then you ask who we can call to be with him.”

“Skogen?”

“I got no job for him. After Darnell’s questions, we leave our cards and are out. Sheriff remains until a relative or friend arrives. Never leave him alone. Got it?”

“Yes. I’ve done this once before.”

“Great.”

She recalled the howl of a mother on notification of the sudden death of her child. She thought that cry of agony would live in her memory forever.

“Everyone experiences grief differently,” she said.

“Don’t I know it. Once had a guy run right through a sliding glass window after I delivered the news of his wife’s death.”

“Acute stress disorder cause by psychological shock.”

“Yes.”

At three-fifteen in the afternoon, under brilliant blue skies, they parked before a modest home with pygmy palms flanking the entrance and assembled on the sidewalk. After a brief discussion, they rang the bell.

They were expected. Skogen’s people had notified Roger that they had news on his wife.

After a slight wait, the door opened and a gaunt man, with a hawkish nose, filled the gap.

Skogen took over. “Mr. Darnell, I’m FBI Agent Jack Skogen. Might we come in for a few minutes?”

“Did you find her?” He clutched the doorknob.

“May we?” Skogen motioned to the house.

Roger Darnell stepped aside to let them pass. Nadine entered between Skogen and Demko. Skogen chose the living room, taking a seat on the couch. Demko stood before the television, just beside the couple’s wedding photo, and Nadine perched between them at the opposite end of the couch from Skogen. The sheriff moved to be in clear view of Darnell, who settled in the recliner, waiting.

“Did you find her?” he said again.

Skogen looked to Demko, and Darnell followed the direction of his gaze.

“Yes, Mr. Darnell. I’m Homicide detective Clint Demko. I am sorry to inform you that your wife is the victim of a homicide. We made a positive identification with both dental records and the DNA sample you provided.”

Darnell’s face went red and tears sprang from his eyes. He retrieved the pillow from behind him and hugged it.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” said Demko.

Darnell pressed his face into the pillow. The room went silent except for his ragged breathing. When he lifted his gaze, he seemed lost. He shook his head slowly, processing, Nadine thought.

“What happened to her?”

Demko gave a very amended version of events. “She was attacked somewhere on the trail and died from a neck wound.”

And starvation. And a spine injury. And an alligator attack, thought Nadine.

“Where did you find her?”

“By the St. Johns River. Near a trail.”

“Our dog?”

“Still missing.”

He swallowed hard, staring straight ahead.

“Why would someone do this?”

That one Demko did not answer. He just waited.

“Do you have any suspects?”

“As you can see, the FBI is involved. We are doing everything in our power to solve your wife’s homicide.”

She admired how he avoided saying killer or murder. He obviously did know what he was doing.

Nadine directed her attention to Roger Darnell. He seemed to have shrunk before her eyes. His posture drooped and he pressed a hand to his forehead.

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered.

Demko stepped forward. “This is my card.” He placed it on the coffee table. The sheriff did the same.

“Do you have someone we can call to be with you?”

He shook his head but said, “My brother.” He glanced to Nadine. “We were trying to get pregnant. We were…” His words fell off and he dropped his face into his hands as the grief pushed past the shock at last.

With Darnell’s assistance, Nadine retrieved the number and made the call. Then all but the sheriff made their exit. Demko paused at the door.

“Mr. Darnell, we will be in touch.”

And Nadine saw something then, a widening of the eyes as if he found the prospect of another contact with authorities as a threat. Then he noted her watching and dropped his gaze.

Nadine lingered. Darnell reached for a cigarette, his hands shaking. It might be nothing, a normal reaction to having his wife’s death investigated. Certainly, he’d just had his worst fears realized. Likely he was heartbroken, trying to hold it together until they left.

“What do I do about her will and stuff?” asked Darnell. “Call a lawyer?”

Nadine’s eyes narrowed. That was definitely not what should be on the mind of a worried husband upon notification of death. She and Demko exchanged a knowing look.

“Perhaps start with a funeral director?” said Demko.

“Or Nikki’s parents?” she suggested.

“I can’t. They haven’t spoken to me since we got engaged.” He glanced to Nadine. “Could you tell them?”

“Of course,” said Nadine.

Darnell took a long drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke toward the ceiling.

Skogen had headed back to his vehicle as Nadine and Demko reached the SUV. She settled inside and he got them under way.

“What was your take on him?” Demko asked.

“Fairly normal until you told him we’d be back. That made him apprehensive, which could be natural. Police make people nervous. But that comment about the will. That wasn’t normal.”

“Yeah. I agree,” said Demko.

She clipped