Decker tapped his pencil against the tablet, put aside his speculations for now. He began combing the outside area for evidence. In the front, he found dried spots of brown gook. Could be blood, could be anything. He swung around back. The rear side of the house faced a two-story redwood barn, weathered dusty gray. Next to the barn was a hundred feet worth of fenced corral, stacked bales of hay, and a 40' × 40' lot of yellowed weeds stained by oil and crushed by tire prints. Probably where the Darcys parked their cars. But it never hurt to have too much physical evidence. He’d point it out to Sheriff’s Homicide, request a tire imprint and lab work on the oil.

Automatically, Decker pulled out a handkerchief, placed it over the knob, and tried the barn door. Locked, but at least no odor seemed to be coming from the threshold. He peeked through the window. Dark, the sun doing little to illuminate the interior, but Decker made out an empty cordoned-off area to the left, that portion of the ground covered with hay. The rest of the floor space was taken up with machinery—big metal cylinders, other pieces of brushed steel and chromium he couldn’t identify.

He saw Tommy Chin come around back.

Chin said, “Arnie real mad about bees.”

“Take a break,” Decker said. “It shouldn’t be much longer. I’m trying to get someone over here to get rid of the bugs. We’re going to try to smoke them out. Will that ruin forensic evidence?”

Thinking a moment, Tommy rubbed his eye with his shoulder—his hands were gloved—then answered that the smoke might mix with some of the body gases, but the bees had to go. No one could work with thousands of things buzzing around. Arnie had already got stung on his hand right through the plastic glove. He was ready to claim disability. Decker asked him if Arnie was still inside.

“Arnie, he’s a trouper,” Tommy said. “We do as much as we can before you smoke the bugs. Scrapings, tissue samples, fluid samples…anything that might be affected by smoke. With the insects, I collect some maggots and put them in KAAD. I collect a few bees, ants, and beetles, too. And live bugs for control. Then that’s all the bugs I need. You get rid of the rest, so we can work without getting stung.”

Decker nodded. “Seen Detective Crandal around?”

Tommy said, “He was in the house, now he out of the house. Think now he’s in the car.”

Super, Decker thought. Just what he needed. A goldbrick on his team. He forced himself to jog over to Crandal’s car. The old man was sitting in the driver’s seat, windows rolled up, motor running. No doubt he had the air-conditioning on full blast. Decker knocked on the driver’s window, the motor died, and Crandal came out of his cocoon.