“What? No – I don’t think she did it,” Sam told Hurley more loudly than she anticipated. Hurley pursed his lips, making his mustache bristle.
“Prove it.”
“She has an alibi.”
“An alibi that ran.”
“Her emotional reaction was genuine.”
“She’s a good actress. She’s holding something back.”
Sam privately agreed that perhaps Nina was hiding something behind her hysterics, but not a dismemberment.
“We don’t even know if Laura Shoals was murdered. She could have just been dismembered post mortem.”
“Didn’t you get Dr. Rausch’s update? You need to be more on top of things. It’s in your email.”
“I haven’t been to my desk.”
“You have a phone.”
Sam suppressed the urge to cuss at her superior. Her ‘smart’ phone wasn’t so smart that it could keep itself dry when crossing a flooded wash. T-Bone’s of course, worked still.
Hurley had a smirk on his face. He knew her phone was not fully functional.
Sam turned to go back into the conference room to confront Nina about her alibi when T-Bone stuck his head out of the room next door.
“Both of you have got to hear this.”
Joel Bovier sat at the conference table, a pen between his teeth, reading over something written on a legal pad. He looked up and smiled, dropping the pen. His smile transformed his visage from a scowling gargoyle to a happy imp.
“Oh good, you were available.”
Everyone sat, and T-Bone asked Bovier to repeat his story.
“Not that Tony here believes me,” Bovier started. T-Bone wrinkled his nose at the familiarity. “But okay. Here goes. About two months ago, my sister had a dream about being attacked by a viscous dog/coyote thing that was the size of a small, whatcha call it – Shetland pony.”
Hurley checked his watch.
“Okay,” Sam said, drawing out the ‘o.’ “So what?”
“Well, she’s a psychic. And the next morning, a local kid found a body in the wash.”
“Where was this?” Hurley asked.
“Nogales, Sonora. My sister’s husband is a Mexican national so they live on that side of the border.”
“Your sister is a psychic?” Sam asked at the same time as Hurley asked, “Which wash?”
Sam apologized to her boss for interrupting but he gestured for her to go on.
“Which wash was that?” Sam asked, “And what day?” T-Bone noted the answer.
“Yes, my sister is a psychic. She’s been used by the Nogales authorities and the U.S. Border patrol to find missing persons and drug tunnels. She is very accurate.”
“And she had this vision again last night?”
“Twice more, and then yes, last night. Each time resulted in a body.”
T-Bone pulled out a map of the Southwest that showed parts of the states of Sonora and Chihuahua, Mexico.
“Where?”

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