I don’t recall that the cyclist’s T-shirt was torn. But I wasn’t looking carefully. At the time I had no reason to make a mental note of her every detail as if I were filling out an investigative report in advance.

“We’ll figure that out when we get it to the labs,” I reply. “But what I can tell you with certainty right now is there are multiple tears in the shirt and it’s covered with vomit.”

“Then what? How did it end up in the bushes? The answer is: It didn’t walk here by itself. And there’s a lot of disturbed dead leaves and soil back here.”

He looks in the direction of the twin sisters. I can see Officer Flanders’s back, and the moving beam of her flashlight as she’s about to reach them.

“Come on.” Marino steps out of the bushes, onto the grass. “Let’s go find out what the hell they did.”

CHAPTER 19

I INTRODUCE MYSELF AS KAY Scarpetta, which means nothing to them.

I don’t say I’m a doctor, a Ms. or a Mrs. Maybe I’m a cop. Maybe I work with social services. I suppose I could pass for Marino’s girlfriend. I can’t tell what the twins think of me or what assumptions they might make about my reason for showing up to chat with them about a dead body they stumbled upon.

“How are you both holding up?” I set down my scene case and smile.

“Fine.”

They look flushed and tired but from what I understand they’ve refused every opportunity to sit in an air-conditioned car. They’re content to stand outside in the hot dark night, and it occurs to me they might crave attention. I have a feeling they spend much of their time picked on or ignored, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they put up with more than their share of being ostracized and bullied.

“She’d like to ask you a few things,” Marino says to them about me. “Then we’ll get you someplace where you can get cool, have a nice drink, a snack. How would you like to see what a real police department looks like?”

“Okay,” one of them says.

“Where are the TV cameras?” the other asks. “How come this isn’t on the news? It should be on the news!”

“We don’t want any TV cameras or reporters here right now,” Marino replies.

“But why aren’t they?”

“Because I’m in charge,” Marino says flatly. “That nice lady officer you were with a few minutes ago? Officer Flanders is going to give you a ride to my headquarters in her police car.”

“Are we in trouble?”

“Why would you be in trouble?” Marino asks.

“Because somebody’s dead.”

“Because somebody did something bad.”