but we have a God who delights in being our Comforter. And in bringing people into our lives who will show that comfort to us. I pray that He is doing that for you, and that you can see it.
If you wish to write to me, my email address is [email protected] and you can find out about my books through www.authorlisaphillips.com.
God bless you richly,
Lisa Phillips
But I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should asswage your grief.
—Job 16:5
To my fabulous writer friends. Strong like Portia, and loving like Declan. A great match!
Contents
NCIS Special Agent Portia Finch watched as the medical examiner zipped the body bag closed. Crouched as she was, her boots sinking into the soft earth of the state park, the sound eclipsed all thought for a second. Why it should hit her now—with this case, rather than all the others she’d investigated in her years as a navy cop—she didn’t know.
An approaching car snapped her out of her thoughts. A silver four-door, American brand. A rental? Whoever was in the driver’s seat pulled between her car, the duty SUV her teammates had driven and the medical examiner’s van. Determined to be seen, whoever they were. Determined to get here.
A dark-haired man in a gray suit climbed out. Portia watched the local sheriff make his way to the man.
The medical examiner cleared his throat. He had deep lines around his wise eyes that crinkled as he stared at her with that knowing look. But he didn’t ask what was in her head—not here. When he stood, his knees popped. “I’ll know more about the deceased after I get him back to the office.”
“Thanks, Alejandro.” Portia stood while the medical examiner and his assistant lifted the body onto a stretcher. She eyed the silver car again, then made her way over to where two of her team members were busy taking pictures of the bullet that had embedded itself in the tree.
Two gunshots, center mass. The victim, Nicholas Stringer, hadn’t had time to realize what was about to happen. The fact
