Of course, twenty miles didn’t seem like so long a distance in a car . . . but twenty miles across Lake Michigan was a different matter entirely. Last night, she’d taken a break after they’d gotten done photographing everything on the beach, and just looked out over the water. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling of vertigo: a vast expanse of black nothingness between her and any sort of human civilization. True, the beacons of transmission towers could be seen far across the lake, and the navigation lights of airplanes passing overhead both served as reminders that she was not alone . . . but it had been hard to remember that when she stood on a lonely spit of sand, silent but for the soft slapping of wavelets and shivering of leaves. The portable lights set up around the suspect’s camp beckoned her back like a moth to a flame.