Tully carefully peeled it open. Suddenly he jerked away just as a foot slipped out from the plastic. An orange sock dangled from the toes.

Maggie heard several of the men gasp as they watched the pale skin change to dark red in a matter of seconds. She had seen it happen once before. A strange and eerie phenomenon that sometimes occurred when encased decaying flesh is first exposed to air and sun. It almost looked as if the body were coming back to life, trying to kick out of the sock and the bag.

“I think we can call the crime techs now,” Tully said.

Then Maggie heard someone start to gag. Without looking she knew it was the poor young deputy. He finally had his first dead body.

CHAPTER 4

OUTSIDE MANHATTAN, KANSAS

OFF INTERSTATE 70

Noah had no idea how long he had been lying under the pine tree. Nor had he noticed how close he was to the back of the small brick building. Somewhere he heard the buzz of electrical machines and the hum of traffic. It all came to him muffled, like he had cotton wadded up in his ears. His breathing came in rasps and hitches. His chest hurt, as if he hadn’t stopped running. His heartbeat continued to gallop and refused to slow back down to normal. Whatever normal was.

“Eleanor, there’s a young man here.”

Noah heard the voice, though he stayed in his fetal position, not even attempting to see if the person was close by or referring to him.

Please don’t see me. Please just walk on by.

“He looks like he’s bleeding.”

Busted.

But he didn’t have the strength to crawl out of sight. He couldn’t crawl. He couldn’t move. His muscles had given up. All he knew was that the last time he tried to sit up, it hurt too much. He’d curled up into a ball, trying to make himself small. Trying to make himself disappear. Dark had turned into day. Cold into warm. But his mind had shut off. He had to shut it off.

“No, stay back, Eleanor.”

The man was close but he was keeping a safe distance.

“He doesn’t have any clothes on.”

He took them. He took everything.

“Good God, there’s so much blood. I think he’s hurt pretty bad.”

Noah didn’t have the energy to tell the man that it wasn’t his blood. It was Ethan’s. Or what was left of Ethan.

Don’t think about it. Can’t think about it. Stop thinking about it. Just breathe.

“Go call 911, Eleanor.”

No, just leave me here.

Noah tried to block out the man’s voice. Somewhere above, a hawk screeched. A breeze swished through the branches. Other birds chirped and tweeted. He couldn’t identify them. Leaves skittered. He wanted to fill his head with any sound as long as it might block out Ethan’s screams.

CHAPTER 5

“Where’s the closest FBI field office?” Tully asked Maggie.

She had joined him at the top of the dirt pile. Both of them were ankle-deep in mud. From this close, the smell was overpowering, even though they had shifted and climbed a bit higher so they could look down at the protruding garbage bag and be upwind. The sheriff, his deputies, and the construction crew kept their distance, staying on the other side of the trench. They had even backed away without being asked. It also put them out of earshot of Tully and Maggie’s conversation.

“I’m guessing Minneapolis is four or five hours away,” Maggie said after some thought. “I don’t think we have a field office in Iowa or South Dakota.”

“Omaha’s probably the closest. Do you know anyone there?”

Maggie shook her head. “Not in the FBI office. But they have a regional crime lab that’s first class.”

They stood side by side, so close Maggie’s shoulder brushed against Tully’s arm. They were perched five feet above with a perfect view of the grounds. Maggie took it all in, assessing how large the property was. It would be an overwhelming task to start digging it up. And that didn’t count the woods and riverbed behind the property. She knew Tully was thinking exactly what she was.

“How many other bodies do you suppose are here?” he finally asked.

“We could be wrong about this being a dumping ground.”

“I’ll ask Alonzo to send a canine cadaver team,” Tully said as if he hadn’t heard her.

“I don’t think the sock belonged to the victim.”

“What do you mean?”

“It looked new, too clean.” She noticed that the sock still had a crease across the bottom, like it had just come out of a package. No way it had been in a shoe and still had that pronounced a crease.

“Wasn’t there a body found just recently wearing orange socks?” Maggie asked.

“An FBI case?”

“No, not one of ours.” Maggie tried to remember. For some reason she could see another body, orange socks, a wooded area … and then she realized where. “On television,” she said. “There was a TV reporter who led Virginia State Patrol to a body in the woods. Do you remember seeing that?”

Tully pushed up his glasses and rubbed his temple. “I try not to watch any reality cop shows.”

“It wasn’t a prime-time show. It was on the news. Maybe three or four weeks ago. The reporter said he was directed to the site by a tip. I can’t remember if there was an eyewitness.”

“You think the two are connected?”

Maggie didn’t believe in coincidences. And now she wondered if the bastard had gone out and bought orange socks? Could the socks be his signature? But she couldn’t remember Gloria Dobson wearing any socks at all when her body was discovered.

“Ask Agent Alonzo to check the database for orange socks,” she said. “And have him find out as much as he can about the woman found in Virginia.”

He jotted notes on a scrap of paper.

“The skin looks like it hasn’t even started to decompose,” Tully said. “How long ago do you think this one was?”

“Standard rate of decomposition is one week in the open air. Two weeks in water. Up to eight underground.”

“I hate that you know that stuff off the top of your head.”

Maggie smiled. It wasn’t a trait she was proud of. Not only did she remember such gruesome trivia but she could store and retrieve it at will.

Just then the ripped piece of plastic flapped open in the breeze. It was enough for Maggie to see movement inside the bag. She felt a cold sweat and she grimaced. And what was worse, Tully noticed.

“Maggots,” she said through clenched teeth and it came out in almost a whisper. She hated maggots. “That speeds up the rate.”

Had the killer ripped the bag on purpose, knowing that maggots would make it more difficult to identify the body?

“We need to get a mobile unit out here before dark,” Tully said.

Maggie glanced at the men below. It was human nature for these guys to share today’s discovery. “And some extra security,” she added.

“I’m on it.” Tully pulled his cell phone out of his trouser pocket as he started to skid down the pile.

Maggie stayed put. By now the smell didn’t bother her and she kept from glancing at the flapping plastic. Instead she continued to survey the property. The sheriff had said the previous owner had died ten years ago. Had the property been vacant the whole time? And if so, how did the killer know? Did he just stumble upon such good fortune or did he have a connection to this place?

The sun blazed down now. All the clouds had left. The temperature stayed cool but at least they wouldn’t need to worry about more rain. Something caught her eye, the sun glinting off glass. The farmhouse was about one hundred feet away but something made her look its way.

Maggie’s heart skipped a beat.

She put her hand to her forehead to shield out the sunlight. Certainly she was mistaken, and yet she made her way down to ground level, keeping her eyes focused on the house.