“I suggest we keep our attention on what we’re doing.” I absolutely can’t stand to hear his dire projections about her, and I don’t need him to tell me that she doesn’t inspire empathy or even the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m just telling you the facts, Doc.” He pinches out the cigarette, drops it in an empty water bottle and lights up another one, offering it to me. “Here. You need it.”

I think what the hell. I take the Marlboro from him, and there are some things I’ve never stopped being good at. Smoking is one of them. I inhale slowly, deeply and my emotional elevator goes up to a floor I forgot I had. It’s nice, a lot of light and a view, and for an instant I let go of gravity and it lets go of me.

I hold the cigarette in Marino’s direction, giving it back and our fingers brush. I’m always surprised that his sun-weathered skin with its thick coppery hair is soft and silky. I detect his aftershave, spicy and overlaid with a patina of sweat and tobacco smoke. I smell the wet cotton fabric of his cargo shorts and polo shirt.

“You ever try weed when you were young?” He takes another drag, holding the cigarette as if it’s a joint.

“You mean when I was younger?”

“Seriously? I’m betting when you were in law school, tell the truth? All you Ivy Leaguers hanging out smoking weed, arguing about interpretations and precedents and who’s gonna make law review.”

“That wasn’t my experience at Georgetown. But maybe it should have been.” My tone sounds somber and distracted as I continue checking my mirrors.

I stare through thudding wipers at misty lanes of traffic, water spewing from tires ahead and to the left of us. I don’t go above the speed limit. I’m tense, my eyes constantly in my mirrors looking for Carrie. We sweep around the Fresh Pond reservoir and the pockmarked surging water is the color of lead. The noise of something metal rolling in back starts again and stops, and I can’t get Carrie out of my thoughts.

CLANK CLANK CLANK.

“What the hell?” Marino says in a cloud of smoke. “That’s just freakin’ strange.”

“Everything is inside storage lockers and containers.” I go through every possibility I can think of that might account for the noise. “The folded-up stretchers are strapped in. There shouldn’t be anything loose.”

“Maybe one of your scene cases came open. Maybe it’s an evidence bottle, a flashlight, something like that rolling around.”

“I seriously doubt it.” Carrie appears in my mind.