“If you had waited, he would’ve died.” Tory didn’t touch Reese because she knew that wasn’t what her lover needed. “You made the right call, Sheriff. Now, is it safe for me to move around here?”

“Yes. We took photographs as best we could. We’re not exactly equipped for a high-tech crime scene analysis here. We won’t be able to really map the area and check for trace until daylight.”

“Did you get 360-degree images of the body?” As she spoke, Tory opened the small satchel she kept in her Jeep for just such call-outs and cautiously knelt in the sand. The victim lay partially on her side, one leg drawn up and her body curled in on itself as if sleeping. Tory checked the muscle tone in the left arm, gently flexing and extending the elbow. It was stiff, but not in full rigor. “She’s been dead for less than ten hours, but definitely for more than two.” She looked up at her lover, silhouetted against the night sky. “You couldn’t have helped her.”

“Not in life, perhaps,” Reese said quietly. She squatted down beside Tory, holding the light for her as she worked. “Do you see anything to suggest homicide?”

“Not yet,” Tory replied, gently rolling the body flat onto its back. “But the best I’m going to be able to do here is recognize severe blunt or penetrating trauma. She’ll need a full postmortem, and that’s going to take someone more skilled than me to do it.” She drew out a palm-sized Dictaphone and described the appearance of the body, indicating position, state of the clothing, presence and absence of identifying marks, evidence of trauma, and noted no apparent disruption in the surrounding area to suggest that a struggle had taken place. At least not there. When she’d finished the brief dictation, she removed a long, thin stylet that resembled a stainless steel knitting needle, pushed up the lower border of the clinging tube top, palpated the lower edge of the twelfth rib on the right side, and pushed the transcutaneous thermometer through the skin and into the right lobe of the liver. “The core temperature will give us a much better indication of time of death. The ambient temperature is fortunately still fairly close to body temperature, so we haven’t lost much heat to the environment. Ask Jeff or Allie to get me a precise temperature reading now, please.”

“Eighty-three degrees Fahrenheit.”

Tory nodded, realizing that of course Reese would have already thought to do that. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,”

“Have you identified her?”

“No,” Reese said with a hint of irritation in her voice. “There’s no wallet, no purse, and nothing in the car to indicate who she is. Hopefully, Robert Bridger will be able to tell us.”

“She doesn’t look like a street kid or a prostitute.” Tory lifted one slim hand, staring at the slender fingers curled gently in her palm. “Her nails are clean and manicured. She’s well nourished. Her clothes are expensive but tasteful. My guess is that Robert knows her and didn’t pick her up on the side of the road somewhere.”

“That’s my thought too.” Reese rolled her shoulders. “So far we haven’t found anything useful in the vehicle. If this is an overdose, where are the pills?”

Without thinking, Tory reached out and braced her arm against Reese’s thigh as she pushed herself upright, favoring her weakened leg. She didn’t move away when Reese steadied her with an arm around her waist. Kneeling for extended periods still took a toll on her nerve-damaged calf. “Maybe they took them all?”

“And what, threw the bottles out the window?”

Tory shrugged as they made their way back to the road. “I suppose that’s possible. Perhaps they just grabbed enough for the night and got something stronger than they bargained for.”

“Maybe. But if they didn’t raid the drug cabinet at home, I want to know who supplied them with whatever almost killed them both.”

“I’m sure you’ll find out what happened.” Tory’s tone was far from placating. She spoke with quiet certainty. “Let me make some calls and find out who’s available to do the post. Then we’ll get an ambulance out here to transport her.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry to have to bring you out here for this.”

“Don’t apologize.” Tory lifted a hand and rested her fingers gently against Reese’s cheek. “Try to get home sometime tonight, all right?”

“There’s a fair amount of work to be done out here.” Reese rubbed her face. “And I have to ID this girl. I may need to drive up to the hospital to interview the boy.”

“Don’t do that on no sleep, Reese,” Tory said quietly. “Don’t make me worry all night.”

Reese sighed. “I won’t. But if it gets really late, I might catch an hour or so at the station and then go.”

“I understand. Come home when you can.”

“Tory…I’m sorry about the way I left earlier…”

“It’s all right, darling. You’ve got work to do.” Tory allowed her fingers to trail over Reese’s jaw before drawing away. “We’ll talk soon. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Reese opened the driver’s door of Tory’s Jeep so her lover could slide in. “Kiss the baby for me.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Bri stood by the side of Allie’s desk, her hands in her pockets, her blue eyes dark with worry. Allie was pale and her hands shook as she filled out paperwork. It was three in the morning and they had both been off shift for over three hours, but Allie needed to document the details of finding the dead girl before leaving and Bri had stayed to finish her report on the boy. Now, she lingered out of concern and sympathy for her friend. She wondered how she would have reacted to coming upon a dead teenager in the brush in the middle of the night.

Allie looked up, dark eyes liquid with pain and fatigue. She forced a smile. “No, I’m okay. Almost done.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, thanks. You go ahead. It’s late.”

“How about I give you a ride home?”

“I’ve got my car,” Allie said, but her expression belied her efforts to sound composed.

“This whole night has been a bummer,” Bri noted truthfully. “I wouldn’t mind company for a while.”

A smile of thanks flickered on Allie’s face. “Yeah?” At Bri’s solemn nod, she said quickly, “Five minutes.”

Even at the height of the season, the small town was deserted in the middle of the night. The bars closed at one and there was nothing much in the way of entertainment beyond that time. Bri, feeling as if they were the only two people in the world, powered the motorcycle through the twisting, narrow streets with Allie clinging to her back. Somewhere, though, she reminded herself, on the other side of the ocean that she could hear in the background even above the roar of her engine, Caroline was just waking. She missed her so much, especially now, when she hurt inside with feelings she couldn’t put a name to. The warmth of Allie’s body was comforting.

Gunning the engine, she took the bike in a low, sweeping dip around a turn onto the road to Pilgrim’s Heights. Allie tightened her hold, and Bri felt a hand press low against the front of her uniform pants. Surprised, she covered Allie’s fingers with her own before they could move anywhere else. She kept her hand there until she needed both to navigate the sharp turn into Allie’s driveway. She cut the engine and put a leg down on either side of the big bike to steady it “I’ll swing by tomorrow and take you to the station to get your car.”

“Can you come in for a while?” Allie asked, sliding off to stand by Bri’s side. She rested one hand on Bri’s thigh in a casual gesture, but her voice trembled. “I’m wide awake. I could fix us a drink or something to eat.”

Bri heard the plea beneath the invitation and realized that Allie must be more upset than she wanted to let on. “Sure, for a bit. Thanks.” She kicked down the stand and swung her leg over the wide tank, then followed Allie up the winding stone path to the small bungalow. Once inside, she waited while Allie turned on lights and rummaged in the kitchen.

“Here,” Allie said, handing Bri a beer. She gestured to the sofa with her own bottle and the two young officers, both still in uniform, sat down side by side. They drank in silence for a few moments.

“You doing okay, for real?” Bri finally asked.

“I’m not so sure,” Allie confessed in a small voice. She kept her eyes down, staring at the beer bottle that she turned around and around between her clasped hands. “It was weird. When I saw her, I thought she was sleeping. I thought, what a stupid place to sack out. Then it hit me. All at once. And I knew she was dead.”

“That must’ve been hard.” They had been in tough situations together, including a life-threatening fire. Bri had been in a takedown that had resulted in gunshots and death. But she’d never walked up on death alone. Secretly, she was glad.

“You know,” Allie went on, “you always read about cops throwing up or something when they find a body, but I didn’t feel that way. I felt…cold.” She shivered, set her beer bottle down, and moved closer to Bri on the sofa. “I still do.”

When Allie took her hand, Bri closed her fingers around Allie’s in silent comfort.

“Reese and Jeff both said I did okay.” Allie leaned her shoulder against Bri’s and pulled Bri’s hand into her lap, holding it between her own. In a low, tortured voice, she asked, “Don’t you think I should feel something else? Like…maybe there’s something wrong with me because I don’t?”

“No,” Bri said comfortingly. “No. I think you’re tired and stressed and maybe…a little freaked out. I think that’s pretty normal.”

Allie laughed shakily. “Jeez, I don’t feel normal,”

“I think you did great too.” Bri squeezed Allie’s fingers. “I’m sorry you had to go through it, though.”

“Part of the job, right?” Allie shrugged and tried to sound tough.

“Yeah. A really rough part.”