“The first semen samples from Jane Doe #1 were badly degraded, but there might be some DNA similarities to suggest it was the same man,” Dr. McIntyre said.

Jordan would bet a month’s pay the DNA from the semen would be a match. This had to be the same guy.

However, her beliefs or gut feelings were not evidence. And tunnel vision was a dangerous thing in police work. A cop who narrowed her focus often missed critical details that did not fit her theory. Her gaze dropped to the victim’s slim wrists, bruised by restraints. It was hard not to make a hasty judgment.

The room was hushed and somber, with only Dr. McIntyre’s classical music filling the silence. There was none of the easy cop banter between Jordan and Spencer. If she had been working with another detective, she would have made conversation about his weekend plans, the wife, the kids, anything to defuse her tension. People on the outside did not understand a cop’s ability to chat about everyday life when faced with an autopsy. But they all needed ways to blow off steam.

When the autopsy was complete, Jordan and Spencer thanked the doctor and retreated to the locker room. Each silently stripped off their gown, gloves, and mask and washed their hands.

“Where do you go from here?” Ranger Spencer asked her.

He understood investigations and the natural order of things. She could have quipped that he should use his detective skills and tell her, but she simply said, “Forensics.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“I can give you a full report,” she said.

He lifted his hat off the locker shelf and carefully traced the worn leather strip rimming the base. “There’s something about seeing it for yourself. Details get lost in the translation.”

“Let’s be straight with each other, Ranger Spencer.” She met his direct, dark gaze, which was as unwavering as a rattler’s. “Have I been pulled from the case?”

“I’m here to consult.”

He was here to take the case. Her boss was going to toss this football to the Rangers, who had more budget and reach across the state. “Well, until I see the papers with my own eyes, I’ve got a case to work.”

Spencer did not consider himself a poacher. He did not go out of his way to stick it to another cop, especially one as competent as Detective Jordan Poe. She had been on the homicide team for only a year, but her closure rate was impressive. And before homicide, she had made a name for herself in drug interdiction.