I stare through the velvety darkness at the river flowing sluggishly like liquid dark glass. Marino hasn’t seen forty in a while, and when he gets like this there’s not much I can say. But I don’t blame him. I would be licking my wounds too if I’d just been duped the way he was.

“Getting old sucks,” he gripes, and I know when he’s feeling belittled and obsessive. “I hate it. I freakin’ hate it,” he adds, and the Interpol impostor has done a number on him.

“You’re not old, Marino.” I’ve heard enough, and we have a lot to take care of. “You’re in great shape and weren’t born yesterday. You’re experienced. So am I, and we know exactly what to do out here. We’ve worked far more difficult scenes than this. Forget about the phone call for now. Put it out of your mind. I promise we’ll get to the bottom of it. But that’s not what should be preoccupying you at the moment.”

He continues digging around inside his truck, and I begin my scan as if I’m a lighthouse sweeping everything around me, looking for what needs to be protected or ignored. Since we don’t know what happened and exactly where, we’ll start well outside the perimeter the police will have secured.

I can’t see any yellow tape from where we’re parked, but I have a pretty good idea it begins at the clearing where a dead body and a bicycle await us. But if this is a case of violence involving the perpetrator and victim physically encountering each other, then the clearing isn’t where the scene begins. It can’t be. And Marino is thinking the same thing.

“Whoever did it had to get in and out of here somehow,” he says. “Unless it’s a damn elf that lives in a tree.”

“Assuming Investigator Barclay’s description of the body has even a semblance of truth?” I reply. “If she really were assaulted and beaten? Then yes, her assailant or someone involved had to access the park. Whether she was killed here or dumped, the person was in and out, and we can’t assume he didn’t take the same route we’re about to. I’m not saying it’s a he.”

“Yeah I know.” Marino hands me a box of extra-large nitrile gloves that he’ll use and I won’t. “But if it was a sexual assault or an attempt, we’re probably talking about a male. I’m already looking for tire tracks, especially gouges and flattened areas of grass. So far I’m not seeing it, but he could have entered the park a number of different ways.”