This was the stuff of nightmares.

She scanned the text first and then moved on to the photos. The first image of Tessa’s body lying in the cattails took Morgan’s breath away. The close-ups of Tessa’s face and wounds were worse. Morgan closed her eyes and pictured the girl the last time she’d seen her alive, sitting at the Danes’ kitchen table playing a game of Chutes and Ladders with the kids. Morgan’s empty stomach churned. She reached into her tote bag for a roll of antacids and chewed two.

“We should break for lunch,” Lance said, his gaze too focused on her.

“I’m going to get some air.” What she needed was to get away from those photos. She took a croissant onto the back porch.

A flash of white drew her attention to the space under the porch steps. A dog huddled in the shadows. Clearly a mixed breed, its body was white with tan patches and looked vaguely bulldogish, but leaner. Someone had docked its tail, and its ribs protruded under a short, dirty coat.

“I can’t eat this anyway.” Morgan tossed a piece of her pastry onto the porch. The dog slunk out of its hiding space and gobbled the food with the wary rush of an animal that didn’t know when or where it would get its next meal. Morgan tossed more bits of croissant, drawing the animal closer. The dog edged forward for each bite, until it was only a few feet away. “I’m out of food.”

With one apprehensive wag of her tail stub, the dog darted back under the steps.

The door behind her opened. Lance walked out and stood next to her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Morgan leaned on a post. “I just needed a minute.”

Lance put an arm around her shoulders, and she shifted her weight toward him. A tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away. “Some of those pictures got to me. I’m sorry.”

“For what? Being human?”

“Being weak.” She pushed away from him. “The only thing I can do for Nick or Tessa is to solve her murder. Crying isn’t going to help anyone.”

“You are the strongest person I know.” Lance reached out and tucked a hair behind her ear, his knuckles brushing her cheek. “But this—” He gestured toward the building. “This is hard enough to handle even when the victim is a stranger. I’m here if you need someone to lean on.”

She closed her eyes and turned her face into his hand for a few seconds. But when he shifted forward, as if to embrace her, she straightened. If he held her right now, she’d break down, and she couldn’t handle the emotional storm that would follow. Grief was a quagmire that would pull her under until she suffocated. She could already feel the familiar heaviness, ready to settle its crushing weight on her chest, making each breath harder to draw than the last, as if the simple act of drawing air into her lungs could crack her wide open and leave her in pieces.

She couldn’t go there again, not after she’d just fought her way out from under it.

“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate the offer. I do. But what I really need is to get back to work.”

Ignoring his disapproving frown, she turned toward the door and away from him.

Back in the war room, Sharp brought her a green smoothie, and she forced herself to drink it while scanning the murder board. Using magnets, he’d organized photos under headers like Crime Scene and Suspects. He’d also written bullet points and drawn connections with arrows. He’d put a photo of Tessa at the top of the board.

“The visual presentation helps you see connections,” she said.

“That’s the idea. What do we know so far?” Sharp picked up his marker and started a timeline on one side of the board. “Nick and Tessa attended a party at the lake. They arrived at approximately nine p.m. The police have identified eleven other teens who attended the party.” Sharp listed their names. “As far as I can tell, only Jamie, Robby Barone, Felicity Weber, and Jacob Emerson were still at the lake at the end of the party.”

“Jacob is the ex-boyfriend?” Lance asked.

“Not exactly. Jacob and Tessa went on a few dates last April,” Morgan clarified.

Sharp stretched his arms over his head.

“Do we know who took the video?” Lance asked.

“Yes.” Morgan sifted through a few papers. “A kid by the name of Brandon Nolan.”

“Did Brandon say why he didn’t post the video sooner?” Sharp asked.

Morgan sorted through the police interviews. “Yes. He missed his curfew Thursday night, and his dad grounded him and took his phone for a week as punishment. The police didn’t have Brandon on their initial list of partygoers. He’s not in Tessa’s inner social circle. The police did interview him after they became aware of the video. He said he left right after the fight.”

Sharp snorted. “So the second he got his phone back, he posted the video without thinking it could be related to Tessa’s murder?”

“Yes, he did.” Morgan sighed. She’d prosecuted enough teens that the lack of forethought didn’t surprise her. “Let’s finish the timeline. Nick and Jacob fought shortly after the party started. By nine thirty, Nick and Tessa went off in his car. According to Nick, they had consensual, unprotected sex in the backseat. When they returned to the party sometime around ten, they had an argument. Nick says Tessa broke up with him. This is verified by the text Tessa sent Felicity at 10:43 p.m. The party broke up between ten and ten thirty. Nick says he left Tessa there. She had her own car.”

“Did anyone confirm this?” Sharp asked.

“Yes. Robby Barone and Felicity both stated that they left after Nick.” Morgan continued, “Nick says he drove around until about midnight. His phone was dead, so we have no GPS data. His father was asleep when he came home.”

“So Bud can’t even back him up on that,” Lance said.

“Right.” Morgan jotted times and events on her timeline, then pulled out the autopsy report. “Tessa died between 10:30 p.m. Thursday night and 4:00 a.m. Friday morning. She was stabbed nine times, but the ME thinks she died quickly. Considering the extent of her wounds . . .” Morgan shuddered as she looked at an autopsy photo. “One of the initial wounds was a deep puncture to the heart. If she’d lived through the entire attack, there would have been more blood.”

Wounds didn’t bleed much after the heart stopped beating.

Morgan flipped to the next page in the autopsy report. “The autopsy also shows bruising and abrasions consistent with sexual assault. Semen recovered from Tessa’s body and blood scraped from under her thumbnail matches Nick’s DNA. The ME also found traces of condom lubricant. The DA theorizes that Nick tried to use a condom, which shows premeditation and the desire to not be caught, but the condom broke.”

Sharp went to the table and rifled through some papers. “In your interview with Nick, he said he had a bloody nose from the fight with Jacob and that Tessa cleaned him up. Is that in his original statement to the police, or did he say that in response to the blood being found under Tessa’s nail?”

Morgan found his initial police interview. “Unfortunately, he did not include that information in his original statement. But the police didn’t ask him any questions that would have prompted him to reveal that. Overall, Nick’s statements are consistent.”

“Did they offer him a polygraph?” Lance asked.

“No, but we should consider it.” Morgan made more notes, and then returned to her narrative. “The knife recovered from Nick’s yard matches Tessa’s wounds, but that DNA test is still pending. There were no fingerprints on the knife. There was a T-shirt with blood on it in Nick’s hamper.”

“From his bloody nose,” Lance said.

“That would be my conclusion. That DNA test is also pending.” Morgan looked up. “The DNA on the shirt should be Nick’s. I assume the blood on the knife is Tessa’s. The DA refuses to expedite those tests.”

“Why would he? He already has his suspect locked up,” Sharp said.

“And maybe he’s used up all his favors,” Lance added.

Morgan nodded, frustrated. “Things the police did not find at Nick’s house or at the crime scene: a broken condom, bloody pants, or bloody shoes.”