“Well,” he sighed, “here they come.” Patrick’s brows knit together and he closed his eyes. When he opened them he’d become, once again, Silverton’s coroner. “We’ve got a job to do. No matter what, we have to do it.”

Blood had pooled against the side of Patrick’s boot; his heel cleaved a print of red as he stepped toward the approaching car.

“Dad,” she’d cried. “Wait! ”

At that moment car doors slammed as Sheriff Jacobs, along with Deputy Justin Crowley, made his way toward the crumpled car.

“Sorry we’re late. We had a snafu at the office,” Jacobs declared as he approached the mangled car. He balled his hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene. “My God, Pat, what a mess.”

“Oh, man, look at that,” Justin said as he caught sight of the corpse. “Where’s the head?”

“Haven’t found it yet,” Patrick replied. “I checked out the wallet-the kid’s name is Benjamin Baker, resident of Durango. Cammie’s done the first sweep of photos. She’s going to stay back and do inventory while we search.”

Sheriff Jacobs made a sound in the back of his throat. His features were sharp. His gray, thinning hair was hidden beneath a sheriff’s hat that had actual earflaps. Small in stature, Jacobs was the kind of man whose motions were quick, impatient. Ever since Cameryn’s father had hired her, the sheriff had radiated disapproval whenever Cameryn was on the scene. This time, though, he barely seemed to notice her. His already small eyes seemed to disappear as he squinted. “Guess we can skip calling the EMTs. Don’t need an emergency team to check for a heartbeat if he don’t got a head.”

“That’s what I thought,” her father said. “I already declared time of death at five minutes before we received the first call. That makes it oh-six-hundred hours.”

Sheriff Jacobs scribbled the number on his own notepad.

Rubbing his hands together, Justin blew on his fingers, his eyes surveying the scene until they rested on Cameryn’s, lingering.