The last sound is the grind of tires on cold asphalt. On a deserted New Hampshire road, Maura Murray’s sedan is found nose-first in a snowbank. A neighbor reports a dull thud, a brief glimpse of a woman near the trunk, and a call for help. But minutes later, the road is silent. The car is locked, its airbag deployed but cold. A scent dog follows her trail to the edge of the pavement, and then… ...
