There are two stainless steel gurneys in the room. Both are in use, the bodies draped with sheets. I’ve been here enough times, seen enough victims, to know neither body is that of an adult. I assume one is the bones, the other a child. Only then does it strike me that the second body is more than likely that of little Lucy Kester. Something goes cold inside me at the sight of the small, still form. I don’t even realize I’ve stopped until I hear my name.

“Kate?”

I look up to see Doc Coblentz looking at me oddly, wondering why I’ve stopped in the middle of the room. “Is that Lucy Kester?” I ask.

He nods, his expression grim. “Always hate it when children come in.”

I wonder if he knows I was one of the first responders. That I was one of the last people to hold her while she was still alive. That I may have inadvertently played a role in her death. “Have you done the autopsy?” I ask.

“Not yet.”

“Let me know what you find, will you?”

“Of course.”

My shoe covers and gown crinkle as I cross to the gurney containing the bones. Oblivious to my trepidation, Harris has already peeled back the paper covering. He’s picked up an iPad and makes a note with a stylus, deep in thought, his brows knitting.

“We have the remains of a Caucasian male between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five,” he begins. “From all indications he was healthy. Teeth are intact and present.” He looks at me over his glasses. “So we should be able to get DNA.” Then he goes back to his iPad. “This individual has had no dental work done. Not even a filling. There’s no indication of disease or malnutrition. There is evidence of a completely healed fracture of both the ulna and the radius of the right arm. There’s evidence that both bones underwent open reduction and internal fixation with plates and screws.”

“Is there a serial number?” I ask.

He looks at Doc Coblentz. “Ludwig?”

Doc Coblentz hands me an index card. “We had to magnify it, but we got it.” I put a call in to the manufacturer.

I take the card, drop it into my pocket. “Thank you.”

Harris continues. “Interestingly, only one of the plates was recovered at the scene.”

“There were two plates surgically implanted?” I say. “One of them is missing?”

“That’s correct.”

“The missing plate may still be at the scene,” I tell him, feeling slightly alarmed because the scene was left unprotected.

Doc Coblentz shakes his head. “Kate, we discussed this at length with Stevitch. In addition to being a forensic anthropologist, he’s also an expert in forensic geophysics. He went over that scene with a fine-tooth comb. The plate is not there.”

“So if it’s not at the scene, where is it?” I ask.