Sheriff Tom Brennan saw me approaching and stepped forward, his hand raised. “Mrs. Alexia Foster, you need to stay back.”

“Tom, what happened? I need to catch the bus.”

“There won’t be a bus this morning, Alexia.” His face was grave. We’d gone to high school together forty-five years ago. “There’s been an incident.”

“What kind of incident?”

He hesitated, glancing back at the crime scene investigators. “A body was found here this morning. About six a.m.”

The world tilted slightly. “A body? Who?”