“Sick prick,” Jordan mumbled.

Matt asked, “Were you able to get prints from the rock?”

He shook his head. “The surface isn’t conducive for prints. We didn’t find anything, even on the stethoscope. In fact, there were no prints on the stethoscope at all. He had to have worn gloves.” Jordan glanced smugly from Andy to Matt. “I should point out something else, because neither of you saw it.”

Qué asno superior típico. Juega bien, Mathias.

Asshole. Matt told himself to play nice, but it would be hard if Jordan played games.

“Show me,” Matt said and put on his most diplomatic smile.

Jordan zoomed in on one of the photos near the edge of the lake. “My educated opinion is that when the killer came out of the lake—he would have been freezing by the way—the lake temperature was thirty-nine degrees at 9:30 a.m. when I began to process the crime scene. I think he was in sort of a shock and fell down. Here—knee marks. Here—hands.” Jordan pointed to the impressions in the soil.

“That’s good,” Matt said.

Jordan was pleased with himself. “I did some calculations to see if I could determine height, but because of variations in average bone length, I can give you a rough estimate. He’s between five foot ten and six foot two—which is about 90 percent of the male population. And he wears between a size eleven and size twelve shoe. I would edge closer to size twelve, but again, because of the erosion from the water, it’s more difficult to give an exact number.”

Matt decided to give Jordan a bone. “I can confirm that he wears a size twelve shoe. We have very little physical evidence at any of the previous crime scenes, but there were clear footprints left at two different crime scenes, both of which were outdoors.”

Jordan was again pleased with himself. Sometimes, tech guys were the easiest to make happy, even though they frustrated Matt. Acknowledge their intelligence and skills, and they became your best friend.

“My forensic expert will be here late today. Would you object to him stopping by and chatting with you tomorrow?”

Jordan frowned. It was clear his lab was his domain. But he shrugged. “If I have time, I’ll debrief him. But I have to get it cleared with the chief. He’ll have my ass if I give you feds access to anything without his A-okay.”

“Understood.” Matt glanced at Andy. “And we should nip any problems in the bud real quick, Detective.”

Andy agreed.

Matt hoped Andy dealt with any of the interjurisdictional bullshit that came up. Matt hated playing politics.

To Jordan, Matt said, “I appreciate your cooperation. Please make a full set of your findings, including photos and tox screens, for my guy Dr. Jim Esteban. He’s retired from Dallas PD, where he was the chief criminologist for their lab for the past ten years.”

Andy said, “Thanks for your help, Miles. Good work here.”

“Yeah. I better get back to it.” Then he turned his back on them. “Just cover my butt with the chief, okay?” he called after them.