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asked.
    “Yep.” O’Brien shrugged. “A guy could’ve been in and out of this park PDQ .”
    “ But to stage that scenario, how would they know she’d be here?” she questioned, without expecting an answer. “This could be a random act of violence, a crime of opportunity, but I still don’t understand why she was here.”
    Although Angel understood O’Brien’s assessment of the park layout, his reasoning behind his ‘one guy’ theory had been a leap in logic she wasn’t ready to make. Sure, men committed most violent crimes, but there were always exceptions. A strong woman could have committed the murder. Or more than one person could have done the deed. Keeping an open mind at this stage of the investigation worked best. She had a bigger question in her mind. Why had the victim been in the park in the first place?
    “Any surveillance cameras?” she asked.
    “ Yeah, there were, but don’t get your hopes up. Life ain’t that easy.” O’Brien grimaced. “None of them were working in the park. Idiots vandalized them. The city has a work order to fix ‘em, but that’s been on the books for over a year. Damned budget cuts. But we’ll check other cameras in the area. We might get lucky.”
    Angel took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “You know, that jogger was damned lucky. If he had come through the park with the killer here, he might have had a real reason to run, and we’d be working two bodies.”
    “ Like I need another excuse not to exercise.” Schumacher smirked and rubbed his belly.
    “ You find the murder weapon?” Cronan asked the forensics guys.
    “ Not yet,” O’Brien said. “But we’ll let you know if something turns up.”
    “ Good. Thanks.” Her partner stood and got her attention with a nudge of his chin. When he moved closer, she knew he’d be ready to talk.
    “ No defensive wounds, and she’s still wearing her pearl necklace and a ring. This doesn’t feel like a robbery, although someone might have wanted it to look that way by taking the purse,” Cronan said. He kept his voice low so the media wouldn’t pick up a sound bite. “She’s also got manicured finger nails, perfect teeth, and flawless skin. Her clothes aren’t cheap either. I smell greenbacks.”
    “ Don’t tell me you didn’t notice her breasts look augmented.” Angel raised an eyebrow. “Those cost money, too.”
    “ Yeah, I noticed, but you shouldn’t have brought that up.” He looked over his shoulder at the forensics guys. “Not with those two around.”
    Schumacher didn’t disappoint. “Hey, you mean those bodacious tah tahs aren’t for real?”
    Angel didn’t respond to the obvious ploy to get a rise out of her, but when Cronan looked at her sideways, she said in a low voice, “What is it with guys and boobs?”
    “ Oh, it’s purely a biological imperative. We really have no choice. It’s completely…out of our hands.” Cronan waggled his gloved fingers and grinned.
    “ But doesn’t it bother you when they aren’t real?” she persisted.
    “ Well, I know the Easter Bunny isn’t real, but I still like the taste of chocolate eggs,” Cronan said with a straight face.
    “ Okay, you win. I’m out.” Angel conceded the argument and changed the subject. “So you think our vic comes from money?”
    Her partner was a card carrying cynic, world class. He couldn’t resist flaunting it.
    “That’s my guess. That means the chief will be an even bigger pain in the ass. Having money shouldn’t buy you justice, but that’s reality.”
    Not on Cronan’s watch , Angel thought. Her partner believed everyone deserved a voice. His obsession in finding justice for any victim had made his investigations personal. His open cases haunted him until he officially closed the file. The dead weren’t mere case numbers, and Angel liked that.
    “ Wait a minute. What’s that sound?” Cronan cocked his head. “It’s like…a hum.”
    “ I don’t hear anything.” Schumacher