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bird watcher told him there was a body out here. Then he called us.”
    “What about the bird watcher?” Harry asked. “Do you know if she went in?”
    “When Morgan questioned her, she told him she didn’t. Just saw the leg stickin’ out and went for the ranger. But she’s still up at the preserve office with another deputy if you want to talk to her.”
    “The deputy at the office, did he go in?”
    Both deputies shook their heads. “He came later—after us; after the crime scene was set up. He was sent to guard the witness; never got out here at all.”
    Harry nodded. “Okay, good work. Now, I’d like one of you to call the office and make sure our witness stays put. I’m also gonna need to get the shoe sizes of everyone who went in to the body, and later, when the crime scene techs gets here, I’m going to want casts and photographs of the soles of everyone’s shoes. We’ll have to eliminate all of you from any prints the perp might have left. Also, I need to know if anyone touched the body.”
    This time it was Mutt, shaking his head. “None of us ,” he said. “Morgan was the first one here and he made sure no one did. The park ranger said he felt her wrist for a pulse. I don’t know why he bothered. Her throat’s cut back almost to her spine. Same as O.J.’s wife.” Mutt shrugged, suddenly embarrassed by the comparison he had just made; then added: “At least that’s what they said at Simpson’s trial.”
    Vicky looked away and rolled her eyes. “Morgan told us she’s wearing a mask. Did anybody touch it ?” she asked, turning back to the two deputies.
    “Not after we got here,” Jeff said, taking over again. “Morgan got here first and made sure nobody touched anything. I can’t swear about the ranger, but he says he only touched her wrist.”
    “Okay,” Harry said. “We’re going in to check the body, but we’ll circle wide to avoid adding our footprints to the mix.”
    “Watch where you step,” Jeff warned. “There’s a few cottonmouths around these swamps.”
    Vicky wrinkled up her nose and gave a small shudder. “Snakes, alligators, and a dead woman in a Mardi Gras mask—I’m really starting to love this case.”
    Harry studied her for several moments. The toughness was well established behind her eyes, and that charnel house humor was a definite plus, a necessary survival tool for a cop working homicide. Yeah, he thought, she’ll do just fine. He gave her an amused smile. “Tomorrow we get vampires,” he said.
    “I’ve got to wait until tomorrow?”
    “They only show themselves on Thursdays.”
    What about werewolves?” Vicky said.
    “Never saw one in Florida—too hot for all that fur.”
    “Damn. And I could’ve sworn I’d dated a few.”
    They moved toward the body in a wide circle, looking not only for the snakes the deputy had warned of, but also for any evidence the killer might have tossed out into the thick undergrowth from the immediate crime scene. The walk in proved uneventful, but a more thorough, wider search would be made later. Right now they needed to learn all they could from the body.
    The body lay on its back on a rich, dark bed of rotting vegetation. The woman had been clothed in a straight black dress that would have stopped just above the knees had someone not used a knife to slice open the entire front. Black thong underwear was the lone undergarment and it had been pulled aside exposing a neatly trimmed blond pubis, the same shade as the woman’s hair. Her breasts were also exposed and they were full and round and pointed rigidly up.
    “Implants,” Harry observed.
    “You betcha,” Vicky said. “Even when all the muscles go soft and slack, these boobs will not sag or lose their shape. Plastic surgeons should use that line in their advertising.”
    “I thought they already did,” Harry said.
    The flip words didn’t carry to their eyes. Each pair remained grim and focused. It was the charnel house humor again, two detectives