Before stepping back, he shined the light on the man’s head. Harry had initially thought this man was bald, but there were some clumps of hair. The corpse appeared to be, among other things, the victim of a bad haircut. Harry was guessing the head had been badly shaved—by the man himself while still alive or someone else. There were three cuts in the scalp where the razor had nicked him.

Stick, standing behind him, said, “You think it’s Tanner or Hillman?”

“Hard to say,” Harry said.

Harry had been careful not to touch anything. Lucknow didn’t have a crime scene investigation unit, so the state police would have to be brought in to assist. The coroner from the county seat would do the autopsy. Harry had calls to make right now. Once those were done, he’d see what else he could learn from the scene, and if he had to leave, he’d have Stick stand watch.

Harry tried to think it through. Most times, you found a body at the side of the road, it had been struck and thrown by a vehicle. But a body that had suffered that kind of trauma would have looked very different. Pulverized, yes, but not carefully sliced open down the limbs. Not even a Mack truck hitting you at a hundred miles an hour could knock bones right out of you.

In all likelihood, this person had not died in this location. Someone had dumped him here, and Harry was betting recently. The coyote hadn’t made much of a meal of the corpse yet, and whoever’d left it here certainly wouldn’t have wanted to do it in broad daylight and be spotted by a passing motorist.

Stick said, “That’s the guy what called it in.”

He pointed to the pickup. Harry nodded and made his way over. There was some spillover from the cruiser headlights, and as Harry got closer he could tell this was a young guy, mid-twenties, lean. He uncrossed his arms and took his weight off the truck.

“I’d really like to go home,” he said.

“Appreciate you hanging in,” Harry said. “What’s your name?”

“Tracy. Bill Tracy. I gave the other guy my name and phone number and license and shit.”

“And you were coming along this stretch why?”

“Heading home.” He pointed in the direction of Lucknow. “Work a late shift in Bennington. Like, restocking shelves at the Price Chopper.”

Harry thought he recognized him. “You ever eat at the diner?”

“Lucknow Diner? Yeah, breakfast sometimes. I got a second job at Jermyn’s Lumber, start there at like ten this morning, so I’d really like to get home.”

“So what’d you see?”