And on the ring finger of her right hand is a petite platinum ring with a ruby heart at its center. I think about how happy and proud she must have been when she first slipped it on.

And then I think about the human monster who choked the life out of her, dragged her to this cold stretch of beach, and then chose to mark her grave with a dead soldier.

Within seconds of my sending the second photo, Quinn responds: Got your location on my phone. We’ll be right there.

The anger must be showing on my face, because Paolo is looking increasingly nervous. He’s brushing the sand from his hands and knees, slowly backing away from the scene of the body dump.

“So we’re all done here…right, man?”

“Why? Are you in a hurry, sport?”

Emotion is getting the best of me, I know. Quinn definitely wouldn’t approve. But you know what? Quinn’s not here right now. He’s not staring at Paolo, who’s been more than happy to profit from this young girl’s death. I want to take the same raw, sandy, bare hands I used to dig up Paige’s grave and squeeze his neck until his head pops off.

“Don’t look at me that way,” Paolo says. “We had a deal.”

I point at the grave. “And she had a life.”

Paolo realizes that sticking around isn’t the smartest option at this point. He jogs away, looking over his shoulder every few yards to make sure I’m not coming after him. Believe me, I’m tempted. But my job now is to keep vigil over Paige, buried among these beer bottles and plastic cups. I sit down and stare at the ocean, trying to calm myself. I think about the cases we’ve handled as a team. Not one of them feels as heavy as this one does now.

Quinn and Jana arrive. They don’t bother to say hello; they see the lost look on my face. Jana peers down into the open grave, and genuine grief washes over her face. Quinn, as usual, keeps his emotions buried deep within a lockbox in his mind.

“Paolo split a few minutes ago,” I tell him. “We can still catch up with him. Pound the truth out of him.”

“No,” Quinn says. “Let him go.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Paige.”

Chapter 25

JANA (THE ACTOR)

My dear Matthew, do you remember the first time I told you I’d performed autopsies and you didn’t believe me?

We were out for a nightcap, and I dropped that little bit of trivia on you. You said it wasn’t true. I insisted it was. This was followed by a frenzied cab ride to Boston University School of Medicine, where you generously tipped our way into the cadaver lab and then offered an extraordinarily large tip (some might even call it a minor grant) for a fresh cadaver. You simply had to see me in action for yourself. It was put up or shut up time for me.