When Harry talked to Ariel’s mother, Inez wanted to see her daughter’s body and wanted to know if Harry or Polly were able to recognize the girl. She wanted reassurance, but Polly wondered in what way. To know that Ariel hadn’t been untouched, or maimed? After five days in the water, she’d been just barely human. Ultimately, Cy would take a careful photo in the hospital morgue to give to the family.

Harry told Polly to visit with the family when she dropped off food. Josie said call first, leave the dish at the door, and run for it. Polly didn’t know these people well enough to see them in their probable state.

Polly drove carefully, missing only one stop sign, to the Delgados’ big new house in a subdivision in the hills. She parked in a driveway full of cars, but the house showed no sign of life. She knocked tentatively, looked around, and slid the dish and a card onto the stacked firewood. She was halfway down the sidewalk when the door was ripped open. Inez looked out at her, and down at the pan.

“Thank you,” she said. “Funny how no one wants to linger.”

Polly walked back up to the house. Inez Delgado, usually haughty and beautiful, was now gray skinned, bundled in sweaters, sinking into a big chair but calm. Polly had brought some photographs—Ariel in the garden, with the kids and dogs, with a glass of wine (Polly wasn’t going to fret about the Delgados’ religiosity). They talked about the memorial the next day, what food people should bring and which of them might speak. There would be a private funeral, once the state lab returned the body.

Connie sat in the corner of the room, picking at fading bouquets. Two of Ariel’s sisters came and went. Everyone but Polly had sent lilies, and while she and Inez talked about Ariel—her sweetness, her silliness, her intelligence—Polly watched an ant climb out of her bouquet and hesitate at the bottom of the tequila bottle. Connie reached over and crushed it.

When Inez asked about Ariel’s body, Polly, in a half-truth, said she’d looked away. By the time she left, she understood that Ariel hadn’t gone out with “that boy.” The notion that anyone thought Ariel had done so bothered the Delgados. Perhaps the boy would clear up the conflict? Their daughter wouldn’t even touch wonderful Drake, who liked her so much. They’d tried telling Cy, but could Polly tell Harry?

Polly said she would. It was amazing, how people still wanted Harry to be a cop.

Connie followed Polly out in silence. When they reached Polly’s car, she only asked one question. “Was she still wearing clothes?”

“Yes,” said Polly. “Bathing suit, T-shirt.”

Connie started to cry. “What about her shorts?”

“Maybe they came off in the water,” said Polly.