"Assist me, huh?" He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at Harley's shoes. "This is New Mexiconot Kansas, Dorothy. You look like youre a long way from home.

About fifty miles, actually. Born and raised in Flor Blanca.

That so? His shaded eyes betrayed nothing. You dont look much like a trail guide.

Cool it, she told herself. Youre going to pass out if you blow your top now.

Actually Im with the BAU, she answered as calmly as she could manage. She couldnt help adding, That stands for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, in case youve never heard of it. And the name is Harley Cole, not Dorothy.

For the first time, Callaway appeared genuinely surprised. The BAU? Why arent you back in D.C.?

Someone decided you could use my expertise, she said, thinking on her feet. My father was a miner, and I used to hunt for these abandoned tunnels as a kid. Now, if youre done interviewing me, would you be so kind as to help me get up to speed?

He stared at her for several seconds, as if determining how seriously he should take her, then grunted. You read the file?

She nodded. Two young girls, their bodies found in remote mine shafts. Heads hooded, limbs bound. Signs of sexual activity that might or might not have been consensual.

Sounds like youre up to speed.

This ones going to be a tough nut to crack, Harley thought. She had dealt with plenty of people reluctant to cooperate with her before, however. If she couldnt convince him he needed her, she would just have to prove it.

She tried a different tack. Newbury said the body was discovered here. Care to show me where?

Turning slowly (Harley could not tell whether this was reluctance or just Callaways regular speed), the agent led her between a pair of barbary fig cacti to where a hole perhaps four feet across opened up in the ground. The hole was surrounded by yellow caution tape.

Harley squatted at the edge of the mine shaft.

Want a light? Callaway said, offering a flashlight large enough to function as a policemans club.

Didnt know people still used those things, she remarked, pulling out her phone and turning on the flashlight. The shaft dropped perhaps twenty feet, narrowing as it went. It looked almost like a well, though Harley knew only a fool would dig a well at the top of a desert canyon.

How'd you find her? she said.

Hiker was out walking his dog, Callaway answered. Dog must have smelled her, cause he dragged his owner over to the hole. The man looked down, and what should he see but two glassy eyes staring up at him.

Damn, Harley murmured. How long ago was that?

Callaway considered. Two days ago, around seven in the morning. Body had been down there almost a week.

Spoken with the family yet?