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to communicate with her, but I haven’t made much progress.”
    It sounded like a crazy story to him, one he’d have to be crazy to believe.
    A corner of her mouth turned down. “I can’t clarify that horrible night’s experience much better except I’m certain it happened to us, Dahlia and me.” Rose stiffened when he didn’t comment. “I’m not good at explaining what went on, but I swear I’m telling the truth.”
    “Describe the site of the murder for me.” He picked up the ballpoint and notebook.
    She stretched out her open palm. “Let me draw it.”
    He passed the writing utensils and eased back to wonder about her sanity and his own. The drawing would be the ultimate test. He was in a tight spot in the investigation. With the new ME unable to pinpoint the exact time of Dahlia’s death because of the water temperature, he was left with only a weak estimate. Rose could have committed the crime and be leading him on a merry chase, starting with the sketch.
    “My sister was the artistic one, but I’ll give you an idea how it appeared to me.” She bit her lip and set to work. The sound of the pen’s tip scratching across the paper filled the cubicle, and all the background noises had long ago faded.
    “Dahlia hated heights.”
    “I can sympathize with her. Flat ground is where I prefer my feet. How about you? As a twin, did you share your sister’s fear?”
    She stared at him, appearing to be judging him, deciding if she should share her secret. “I never reveal or discuss my personal fears, but since you’re working my sister’s case…spi–ders.” Her voice wavered with emotion. “I hate them.”
    “Spiders?” Not an unusual phobia or what he expected to hear. “I understand. How’s your drawing?” He bet it was a place that didn’t exist and no one would find.
    “I’m almost done. I’d guess the killer knew about Dahlia’s phobia, bound and dragged her to an old, iron bridge. He threw her off to watch the ultimate horror on her face as she fell.” Though the words were spoken softly, there was an underlying sadness mixed with revulsion in the rigidity of her body. She set the pencil down before flipping the drawing toward him.
    “Dahlia was attacked on these boulders.” She pointed to the ellipses, and then lowered her finger to the wavy lines beneath the stones. “This is the water below.” She bent her head, breaking eye contact. “The bridge where he tossed her over seemed to be an old train overpass.”
    The picture on the paper leapt into his mind and grew until the matching scene came into focus. A granite ledge appeared out of the woods and sloped into the river below. A few yards north stood the remains of a deserted railroad trestle. A jolt of recognition hit him with a punch that nearly knocked him over.
    “Besides my search of the Brattleboro area, I surfed the internet for hiking trails and campgrounds in New England. Nothing resembled my mental image of where she was murdered. My car was in the garage the week she disappeared, and I was limited to bumming rides to hunt for her. I should probably broaden my searches now.”
    “Rose, don’t bother chasing down anymore sites. I know the exact place where your sister died.”

 
    Chapter 4
     
    They’d had the perfect night at the perfect place. Everything had been a dream. Their evening together played over and over. In the daylight the rush disappeared and the daily grind took its place.
    Now Rose had come. She walked the streets around Ledgeview. Lived in the same apartment.
    Could a flower by any other name be as sweet as dear Rose?   We’ll meet soon in the spot your sister and I loved.
     
    “You drew The Ledges that are on the outskirts of the city.” Luke tried to hide his excitement and speak in a professional manner. “It’s an unofficial recreation area. During the summer, families picnic on the boulders and swim in the river below the rocks. But after dark, they say the place is haunted. Only the