“Shouldn’t someone talk to the people she worked with?” the mayor asked.

“We’ve got that covered,” Lisa said. “Beck and I already discussed that. I’m on it.”

“How long before we know for certain if the body found this morning is Holly Sheridan?” Mayor Pratt looked worried.

Beck looked at Mia. “How long before your lab people get back to you?”

“Well, considering we haven’t given them anything yet, I can’t really answer that,” Mia replied. “If we can send samples out today, maybe in a few days we’ll know for certain. Unless there’s another means of identification. Maybe get dental records, ask the ME to take a look.”

“I’ll put a call in to her parents as soon as we’re done here, see how quickly we can get those records.”

“Why don’t you just take the photo out to the ME’s office and look at the girl and see if that’s her?” Mayor Pratt looked from Mia to Beck.

“I’m afraid she doesn’t really look like this anymore, Christine.” Beck held up the photo.

“But she hasn’t been dead all that long, right? Just a week or so?” The mayor looked confused.

“She was sealed in plastic, Mayor Pratt.” Mia turned to explain.

“Yes, so, that should have preserved her, wouldn’t it? I mean, no bugs would have gotten to her.”

“It’s been pretty hot here this past week, as I understand it,” Mia said gently.

“Yes. So?”

“So imagine what might happen to a piece of meat if you wrapped it tightly in plastic, then set it out someplace where the temperature was in the high eighties, low nineties every day.”

“It would…” Christine Pratt blanched.

“Right. It would cook.” Mia nodded. “Actually, it would sort of liquefy.”

“I see. Well. If we’re done here…” The mayor stood and looked at Beck. “Beck, if I could see you in the hall…”

She left the room without looking back, leaving a silent group behind. Beck stepped out behind her.

“She was in a hurry all of a sudden,” Hal noted dryly. “Left her handbag on the back of the chair.”

“I’ll run it out to her.” Lisa took the bag and left the room.

“I didn’t mean to upset her.” Mia told Beck when he returned.

“Hey, she asked.” He shrugged, then looked around the room. “Anyone have anything to say? No? No questions? You all know your assignments, let’s get moving.”

Everyone stood and started toward the door.

“Oh, one more thing. No one talks to the press or to anyone else. No one.”

He made eye contact with each member of his staff.

“If anyone in this room does not understand what that means, speak up now, because if there’s a leak, if I hear something coming back that I didn’t personally put out there, someone’s head will roll. Any questions?”

There were none.

“All right then.” He pushed in the chair he’d leaned on. “Agent Shields, if you’re ready, we’ll take a run out to see Dr. Reilly. Maybe she’ll have something to tell us.”

The lab was located in the basement of one the county-owned and-operated assisted-living facilities.

“This is a little weird,” Mia noted as she parked her car near the entrance. “You have all these elderly folks out here for their afternoon strolls, and downstairs you have the morgue? Am I the only one who thinks this is strange?”

“Hey, the county had the space here.” Beck shrugged. “At least you didn’t make any lame jokes about the residents not having far to go when they pass from one life to the next.”

“Don’t think I wasn’t tempted,” she said as she got out of the car. “Which way?”

“Door around the side of the building.” Beck joined her on the sidewalk.

“Well, that’s certainly better than using the elevator in the main lobby.”

He laughed and led the way to the door leading to Dr. Reilly’s quarters, one flight down behind a black door. Beck knocked, then tried the knob.

“Hey, Beck,” Vivian Reilly greeted him as he opened the door into her office.

“Viv.” He held the door for Mia, then allowed it to swing closed behind her. “Viv, this is Agent Shields from the FBI.”

“Good to meet you.” Vivian put down the files she held and extended her hand.

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, too.” Mia took the hand that was offered. “I hear you’ve been busy.”

“And not in a good way.” The medical examiner shook her head, then turned to Beck. “This latest one, the one from your car? What a mess. I hate to turn her over to her family like this.”

“They’re having a hard enough time as it is.” He nodded. “I called them while we were driving out here. Had to ask them to get their family dentist to have Holly’s dental records overnighted. The dentist is the girl’s aunt, so there’s no problem getting the records. I can tell you the Sheridans are reeling from this, especially not knowing for sure if this is their daughter.”

“As any parent would be.” The doctor put her files down on the desk. “I’m assuming you came to see her, not me. Let’s go.”

Beck and Mia followed her down a short hall and through a heavy metal door into the county morgue, which was dimly lit and cold.

“Let me just get a little more light in here,” Dr. Reilly said as she flicked on the wall switch. She walked to one of the drawers built into the wall and partially slid it out.

“We’ve had to keep her somewhat contained,” she explained, “since so much of her was falling apart.”

“Tough to make the call on cause of death,” he said.

“Yes and no. Because of the decomposition, it’s harder to find any of the usual telltale signs. But there’s enough to convince me that she, like Colleen Preston, was alive when she was wrapped up.” She turned to face the victim. “The lungs and the brain show sign of bleeding, the eyeballs are bulged. All signs that her body was trying to force her to breathe. Wrapped up the way she was, the lungs couldn’t expand, they couldn’t get oxygen, that caused the petechial hemorrhages in the eyeballs, the lungs, the mouth. What hadn’t fallen away held the evidence.”

“So you’re saying suffocation?”

“Yeah,” the ME told him. “Just like Preston.”

“She have any distinguishing marks, Viv?” Beck asked.

“Birthmarks, tattoos?”

“A tattoo, yes. On the upper part of her right arm there was something. Not sure what it was originally, but I can tell you it was green.”

“Green,” he repeated.

“Yeah. The ink they used was green.” She pulled the drawer all the way out. “Here, take a look.”

He bent closer, seemingly oblivious to the odor and the grotesqueness of the corpse.

“I see some loops there. Not enough flesh, though, to see the entire shape.”

“Unfortunately, some of the meat just fell off the bones,” she said, then glanced up at Mia to see if there was a reaction. Finding none, she continued. “As you know, the victim was in a state of partial decomposition when she was found.”

“The woman we think this might be…she’d only been missing for a week. Could that be possible, that she’d deteriorate so much in so short a time?” Beck asked.

“Wrapped up the way she was, in this heat…and if she’d been left in a place that was closed up so that the temperature went over one hundred for days on end, yeah, she could have turned soupy pretty quickly.” She looked at Mia again and said, “Sorry.”

Mia shrugged.

“How long have you been with the FBI, Agent Shields?” the ME asked.

“Almost nine years.”

“Then I guess you’ve seen pretty much everything,” Vivian said.

“I have now,” Mia replied.

“I feel the same way,” Viv assured her. “Bastard who did this-”

“Enjoyed every minute of it,” Mia murmured.

“Yes. He probably did.” Vivian drew a hand through her hair. “How do you find him? How do you stop him?”

“We get to know him through his work,” Mia stated matter-of-factly. “We let him lead us to him. If we pay close attention to what he’s already told us about himself, sooner or later, he’ll lead us right to his door.”