“Yes. Emma, Tammy, Sarah, and Amy.”

“Sarah or Amy. Could one of them be Jane Doe #1?”

“Don’t know.”

“Where was the picture taken?” It was frustrating. There was so much to be learned from settings as well as facial expressions. Body language represented about 90 percent of communication.

“A bar. I can’t tell you where.”

“We need that DNA from Jane Doe #1 and to confirm her identity.” She opened the refrigerator door, caught a whiff of garlic. Spencer inventoried the contents: creamer, Chinese takeout, eggs, and a head of lettuce past its prime.

They moved to the bedroom, and she skimmed her fingertips along the wall until she felt a light switch. She flipped it on, hoping it would help. It did not.

“There’re clothes and shoes on the floor,” Spencer said.

“Bed unmade?”

“It is.”

“What about bathroom trash can? Anything of interest?”

“Tissues, aspirin bottle, and an empty box of condoms. No condoms in the trash.”

Emma was living her life just like any other person trying to get on after a setback. The woman received points for that in Jordan’s book. Life could humble your ass.

“Ranger Spencer,” Officer Ruiz said.

“Yes?” Spencer asked.

“Just received a call. A woman’s been found dead. She was wrapped in plastic.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Ten miles north on I-35. Found in a vacant house.”

“I’ll take you home,” Spencer said to Jordan.

“No way,” Jordan said.

“It’s one thing to check out an apartment. It’s another to take you to an active crime scene.”

“I’ve worked enough scenes. I know my way around.”

“With vision,” he said carefully.

“I’ll take your lead. Stay out of the way.” Before, she would not have been forced to justify her presence.

“I won’t have time to babysit.”

The last word stung. “I’m not a child, Spencer.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Sure you did. I’d have said the same to you if the shoe were on the other foot.”

“You understand where I’m coming from then?”

“Yes, but I don’t care,” she said carefully. “Emma called me. This killer hurt me. He knows where my sister and I live. I want in on the crime scene.”

His exhale advertised his frustration, and she imagined the lines on his face deepening. “You’ll do everything I say. Do you understand? And like it or not, I’m the lead on this case.”

“I’m not a rookie.”

“Those are the terms, Detective Poe. Do as I say, or your next ride will be home.”