A short scream burst from her mouth and she reached out in panic. Her tiny fingers found only strands of tall grass, which popped easily from the ground and followed her like streamers as she slid toward the water.

Corde called to Slocum, "You hear anybody over that way?"

"Thought I might have." Slocum lifted off his Smokey the Bear hat and wiped his forehead. "Some footsteps or rustling."

"Anything now?"

"Nope."

Corde waited four or five minutes then walked down to the base of the dam and asked, "You through?"

"Yessiree," Slocum said. "We head back now?"

"I'll be taking a Midwest puddle jumper over to St Louis to talk with the girl's father. Should be back by three or so. I want us all to meet about the case at four, four-thirty at the office. You stay here until the Crime Scene boys show up."

"You want me just to wait, not do anything?"

"They're due here now. Shouldn't be long."

"But you know the county. Could be an hour." Slocum's way of protesting was to feed you bits of information like this.

"We gotta keep it sealed, Jim."

"You want." Slocum didn't look pleased but Corde wasn't going to leave a crime scene unattended, especially with a gaggle of reporters on hand.

"I just don't want to get into a situation where I'm sitting here all day."

"I don't think it'll -"

A crackle of brush, footsteps coming toward them.

The officers spun around to face the forest. Corde's hand again fell to his revolver. Slocum dropped the tape, which hit the ground and rolled, leaving a long thick yellow tail behind it. He too reached for his pistol.

The noise was louder. They couldn't see the source but it was coming from the general direction of the rosebush that had held the clipping.