Tommy said, “I’ve seen bodies covered by beetles, ants, even worms. They like to lay eggs in the cavities—nose, eyes, ears. Never seen bees like this. I take a few for specimens, a few live ones, too. But the rest, they just background. They get mad when we try to do our job.”

“And they’re eating up the evidence,” Arnie added.

“Give us a minute to decide how we want to handle this,” Decker said. “In the meantime, can you take some blood samples from the bodies? I need to see if they match the blood found on a little girl’s pajamas.”

“Sure, I get you blood,” Tommy answered. “How much you need? A tube? A pint? A gallon? They don’t need any of it now.” Again, the laughter.

“Whatever Forensics needs to run the tests, Tommy,” Decker said.

“No problem.” Tommy went back to work.

Arnie slapped his arm. “I can’t work this way.”

Decker said a minute, and waved Marge and Crandal outside. He then explained to Crandal that Byron Howard was a resident bee expert.

“Bet he can help us get rid of the critters,” Decker said.

“Before he does that,” Marge said, “he should look at the bodies and see how many he can ID. Who knows what those corpses will look like once we get all the insects off? With all the heat and bloat, we may be seeing the bodies at their peak.”

“A gruesome thought,” Crandal said.

Decker said, “Way Byron was moaning inside, one of the women should be Linda Darcy. The others?” He shrugged.

“Let’s go ask Byron,” Marge said.

Crandal wiped his forehead and said he was going to take a look around outside. When Marge asked him if he wanted his notepad, Crandal gave her a sour look and announced he was going to the car to get it. But Marge noticed he had been walking in the opposite direction.

As Decker and Marge approached Byron, Decker realized how slowly they were walking, how listless their movements had become. The sun was directly overhead, the sky cloudless and deep blue. The unrelenting heat, the rancid smells, everyone was being sapped of energy. Decker asked Byron how he felt. The bald man was ashen.

Byron said, “Kin I go home now?”

Decker said, “There’s no legal reason why you can’t. But we have a couple of favors to ask you.”

“What?” Byron asked.

“First, someone should ID the bodies for us now—before any more decay sets in….”

Byron didn’t answer. Decker placed his hand on the beekeeper’s thick shoulder, but Byron shrugged him off.

Marge said, “Mr. Howard, I know this is horrible stuff, but we need you to do this for us—”

“A couple of favors,” Byron interrupted. He faced Decker. “You said a couple of favors. What’s the other one?”