Reuben Mendoza’s body was on its side in the shallow trough of water that remained in the canal. The arm with the cast reached toward the bank as if he had been trying to pull himself out when he died, but Pike knew this had not been the case. Mendoza’s neck was cut so deeply the white core of bone was revealed, and the blue-gray pallor of his flesh indicated he had bled out long before he drifted to the bank. He wore baggy khaki shorts, a long-sleeved plaid shirt so big it cloaked him like a shawl, and Keds—the same clothes Jared described. Carla Fuentes would be able to keep her house.

Button clucked his tongue.

“Looks to me like your boy Mendoza here didn’t abduct anyone.”

Futardo moved closer, watching him the way cops watch a suspect.

“Do you recognize this man?”

Pike nodded.

“When is the last time you saw him?”

Pike glanced at Futardo, and saw Button smile.

“Detective Futardo here wants to work homicide. She thinks you’re a person of interest.”

Futardo flushed dark and her thin lips grew tighter as Button went on, lecturing her.

“This isn’t Pike’s style. Pike here, he’d shoot the guy point-blank or beat him to death, but he wouldn’t do this. Hey, Eddie—”

A man in waders looked over.

“Roll him and open the shirt, please. We want to see the wound.”

Most of the body was still in the water. They rolled it to face Button, then pulled back the plaid shirt. The shirt was unbuttoned as Jared described, but the T-shirt beneath was ripped from the upper left chest down through the center of the shirt to his pants. Washed clean of blood by being in the canal, picket-fence ribs protruded through the chest and internal organs bulged like blue balloons from the abdomen.

“Gutted him. Cut his neck to kill him, then gutted him thinking the body would stay down.”

Pike watched the team maneuver the body, then gazed up the canal. Grand Canal was the longest canal of the six, letting the five smaller canals breathe from the sea through the locks built into the bridge. Pike wondered how long it took for the body to work its way down from the upper canals as the water drained.

“How long has he been in the water?”

“Thanks, Eddie. That’s good.”

The recovery team returned to its work as Button answered Pike’s question.

“Cold as the water is, the window is wide open. More than six, but less than twenty-four. They’ll tighten it up when they get him on the table, but that’s the CI’s best guess for now.”

“Could have happened after. He took them first, and someone killed him after.”

“Whatever you say, Pike. And maybe the one thing doesn’t have anything to do with the other, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“You find Gomer?”