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Jakarta. His turning up in the Philippines is going to cause some concern. We’ve been learning about increased activity there—training and recruitment. But it’s been tough to get good intel. We’re going to be interested to know exactly where you found him. I’m hoping you have some maps?”
    She did. They were in the case file in her carry-on bag—along with the other files she’d been reviewing on the plane. But she was not going over to Blake’s tonight.
    “Kelsey?”
    “I do.”
    “Any chance I could get a look at them? Also, I need to get a statement from you about cause of death. You mentioned a gunshot wound, but we’re going to need specifics.”
    Damn it, he wanted a meeting. She should have expected this.
    “When?”
    “I’m working on a brief for the assistant director for CT, Rick Bolton. I was hoping to have it by tomorrow.”
    Silence stretched out as Kelsey raced down the highway. He wanted to notify the head of counterterrorismabout what she’d found. That had been her goal ever since she’d first seen those bones and realized what they meant. To hold up that process because of personal issues seemed ridiculously petty.
    “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve got company,” he said, clearly interpreting her hesitation for what it was. “Trent’s on his way over to work on another case.”
    In other words, Blake wasn’t going to try to talk her into bed while his coworker was sitting there. Kelsey checked her watch and sighed. Blake knew her weakness. A case needed her, and she’d never been able to say no.
    She was definitely going to work tomorrow with a purple polka-dot bikini under her clothes.
    “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she said.
    “The gate’s open.”
    She took the next exit and made a U-turn under the freeway, locking her doors as she did because she had to cut through a seedy part of the city to get to Blake’s neighborhood. He lived downtown, near San Antonio’s River Walk, which when they’d first started dating, Kelsey had thought was romantic. But it hadn’t taken her long to realize his choice of neighborhood had nothing to do with a fondness for the tree-lined riverfront where tourists like to stroll and shop and drink margaritas. No, his choice had been purely practical—one of his coworkers had been getting divorced and had offered him a deal on the condo. And although Kelsey liked the condominium itself, parking her SUV anywhere near it was a challenge. She circled the block twice before spotting an empty space.
    Kelsey did a quick appearance check. She wore hertypical weekend combo of jeans, T-shirt, and Nikes. She glanced in the mirror and saw that her hair was limp. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her makeup had worn off, and her freckles were on prominent display. She looked like a woman who’d spent the past ten hours in airports, and the cherry Chapstick in her purse would do little to rescue her—which was probably for the best. This was business. She got out of the car and went around to the back to retrieve the case file from her bag.
    The brown accordion folder had been steadily expanding since her return from the Philippines. Those unidentified remains had become her pet research project. She tucked the folder under her arm now, slung her leather purse over her shoulder, and headed for Blake’s.
    Kelsey had made a career out of identifying anonymous bones. All too often, the remains that came through her lab belonged to people who had been murdered, and since the vast number of murder victims were killed by someone they knew, getting an ID was crucial. Kelsey’s work at the Delphi Center helped investigators identify the victim, narrow the suspect pool, and ultimately make an arrest.
    Forensic anthropology wasn’t just a job to her—it was a calling. From the moment when she’d held that first human skull in her hands and stared down into those sightless eyes, she had known it was her mission in life to give a voice to people who