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Went on a binge."
    Tess's
face tightened with annoyance. "Like I said, I don't think so. Her teeth are healthy
and her fingernails don't appear splintered--both would be signs of chronic drug
use. I think whoever took her, tied her up, likely to a chair, kept her for
several days and shot her full of drugs. And then strangled
her."
    The
image of the woman's face flashed in his mind and again he thought about
Kendall Shaw. He savagely pushed the thought away, refusing to think of the
body as anything more than evidence. "Any signs of sexual
assault?"
    "Couldn't hazard a guess at that one. Her clothes are perfectly intact,
but you know that doesn't mean anything."
    The
hearse arrived and made its way down the rough construction road. It stopped a
hundred yards from them. The driver kept the motor running as he and another
man emerged. Both men were tall with broad, muscled shoulders.
    They
removed the gurney from the back of the hearse casually and headed toward Tess.
She led them to the body, which she had bagged in a black body bag. The bag had
been sealed with a lock that wouldn't be removed until it reached the medical
examiner's office. The attendants hoisted the body on the gurney, carried it up
the embankment, and loaded it in the hearse without conversation.
    Zack
and Jacob followed Tess to the forensics van. They waited as she fired up the engine
and turned the heat on full blast. She closed the door but cracked the window.
    Tess
held out her hands toward the heater. "I'm never going to be warm again."
    "When
does your shift end?" Zack ducked his head so he could make eye contact.
    "Four.
Hopefully, I'll be done with our Jane Doe. I promised Mom I'd help pack up the
Christmas decorations."
    Zack
nodded. "Thanks for doing that."
    "Next
year it's your turn."
    Zack
grinned. "No, it's Malcolm's. He owes me." Malcolm, their brother, worked SWAT.
    "What
did you do for him?" she asked, smiling.
    Zack
grinned. "Let's just say we had a bet and he lost."
    Tess's
laughter rumbled in her chest. "Should I ask?"
    "No,"
Zack said.
    Jacob
envied the easy camaraderie the brother and sister shared. He'd never known
anything like that. His father had split before he was born and he had no
siblings. His mother had been a drunk and an addict who had found child rearing
a drag. When he was twelve he'd been taken in by a good guy, Pete Myers, who
had given him a stable home. Last summer, Pete had turned out to be deeply
troubled.
    Shit.
Jacob couldn't have had a more fucked-up personal life if he'd set out to plan
one.
    Zack
and Tess exchanged a few more words before she rolled up her window. The hearse
drove off, and Tess followed in her van.
    Zack
rubbed his hands together, trying to stimulate circulation. "I'm headed back to
the office."
    "Right behind you. I just want to walk the scene one
more time." Jacob was anxious to get back in his car and turn the heater on,
but he just couldn't let go of this place. Not yet.
    Zack
had driven off and Jacob had started back toward the river when he heard,
"Who's in charge here?"
    The
voice was deep, angry, and full of attitude.
    Jacob
turned, pulling fisted hands from the warmth of his pockets. Standing at the
perimeter was a guy dressed in a dark business suit and a crisp overcoat. It
didn't take a Harvard education to know the suit and coat cost more than Jacob
earned in a month. The guy wasn't tall, maybe five seven or eight, and he had a
full head of brown hair slicked back off his face. A gold ring winked on his
left pinky.
    The
guy had "slick" written all over him.
    Jacob
moved toward Slick, his strides long and deliberate. He was itching for a
fight, anything to burn off the unease that plagued him. "Can I help you?"
    Slick
raised an eyebrow. "Are you in charge?"
    Again,
attitude seasoned the words. The hair on the back of Jacob's neck rose. He
didn't mind questions but attitude pissed him off. "I'm Detective Jacob
Warwick. I'm running this murder investigation."
    Slick's
features softened a