Bonnell froze the beam of his flashlight on what appeared to be a pile of burned rags under a window. "There's your crispy critter," he said.

Clayton nodded. He could see a seared, blackened forearm and hand protruding from the rag pile. "What's with the basement?" he asked.

"It was probably a cold-storage cellar for produce," Bonnell replied as he swept his light back and forth. "We're looking for fire behavior here, Deputy. So far I don't see anything abnormal. The flames burned up and out, just like they were supposed to."

"Are you calling it accidental?"

"Not yet, but I don't see a burn pattern that suggests an accelerant was used."

Clayton gazed at the deep pool of black water that was quickly draining into the cellar. "What a mess."

Bonnell snorted and slapped Clayton on the shoulder. "Come on, Deputy, let's get in there, get muddy, and find out what we've got."

"First, I'd better call for the medical examiner," Clayton said.

Bonnell pointed at a firefighter coiling hose at the back of the pumper truck. "We've got one right here," he said. "Shorty Dawson will be more than willing to declare the victim dead."

Clayton thought about the mess inside. Mud, debris, and charred pieces of the roof filled the enclosure, a lot of it covering the body. Conditions would make extracting the victim and searching for evidence time-consuming and tedious. Allowing too many people inside would only make it worse.

"Have Dawson make a visual inspection from the doorway," Clayton said. "I want to limit entry to just you and me until the crime scene techs arrive."

"I'm sure Shorty will oblige," Ray Bonnell said. The sound of a siren made him glance down the highway in the direction of Carrizozo. "Here comes your boss. Shall we wait for him before we get started?"