“I’d like to see the photograph sent to you over AOL,” he said to me.

“That doesn’t fit the M.O., either, by the way,” I said as I began suturing the Y-incision. “I wasn’t sent anything in the earlier cases.”

Marino was in a hurry, as if he had somewhere else to go. “I’m heading out to Sussex,” he said, walking to the door. “Gotta meet Lone Ranger Ring so he can give me lessons in how to investigate homicides.”

He abruptly left, and I knew the real reason why. Despite his preaching to me about marriage, my relationship with Wesley secretly bothered Marino. A part of him would always be jealous.

“Rose can show you the photograph,” I said to Wesley as I washed the body with hose and sponge. “She knows how to get into my e-mail.”

Disappointment glinted in his eyes before he could mask it. I carried the cartons of bone ends to a distant counter where they would be boiled in a weak solution of bleach, to completely deflesh and degrease them. He stayed where he was, waiting and watching until I got back. I did not want him to go, but I did not know what to do with him anymore.

“Can’t we talk, Kay?” he finally said. “I’ve hardly seen you. Not in months. I know we’re both busy, and this isn’t a good time. But . . .”

“Benton,” I interrupted with feeling. “Not here.”

“Of course not. I’m not suggesting we talk here.”

“It will just be more of the same.”

“I promise it won’t.” He checked the clock on the wall. “Look, it’s already late. Why don’t I just stay in town. We’ll have dinner.”

I hesitated, ambivalence bouncing from one end of my brain to the other. I was afraid to see him and afraid not to see him.

“All right,” I said. “My house at seven. I’ll throw together something. Don’t expect much.”

“I can take you out. I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“The last place I want to be right now is out in public,” I said.

His eyes lingered on me a little longer as I labeled tags and tubes and various types of containers. The strike of his heels was sharp on tile as he left, and I heard him speak to someone as elevator doors opened in the hall. Seconds later, Wingo walked in.

“I would have got here sooner.” He went to a cart and began putting on new shoe covers, mask and gloves. “But it’s a zoo upstairs.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, untying my gown in back as he slipped into a fresh one.

“Reporters.” He put on a face shield and looked at me through clear plastic. “In the lobby. Casing the building in their television vans.” He looked tensely at me. “Hate to tell you, but now Channel Eight’s got you blocked in. Their van’s right behind your car so you can’t get out, and nobody’s in it.”