Chris glanced through the window at Michael, who was pacing outdoors and gesturing as he spoke on his cell phone. “Hard to say.”

“Try.”

She rested her chin on one hand, a small smile on her face as she waited for his answer.

“Well, Schwarzenegger was always the hard-ass.”

“But presented unattainable standards.”

“True. I liked Nicolas Cage. He was a geek but always won.”

“The nineties were great for Cage. I can watch The Rock over and over.”

He smiled. “One of my favorites. Sean Connery. Ed Harris. Good stuff.” Movies had been an escape for him after the two years he’d spent underground in the hands of a kidnapper. In the movies the bad guy always got his due. And the heroes weren’t always tough guys like Stallone and Schwarzenegger. Chris’s favorites were the heroes who had everything going against them and defeated the bad guys with their brains.

“I always like the females who were nerdy scientists,” said Gianna. “I have a weak spot in movies for the underdog and for women who were discounted because of their looks. They would rise up and kick butt every time.”

“Is that why you went the science route?” asked Chris. He didn’t think so, but he wanted her to keep talking. Their forced time together had fostered an easy intimacy that he hadn’t experienced with a woman in years.

Someone simply to talk to.

“Hell no. I continued with science because I couldn’t get enough of anatomy and physiology in high school. Other students thought dissecting cats was disgusting, but it was my favorite class. Getting to see how the muscles and tendons work beneath the skin? Fascinating.”

His high school had offered the same class. Chris hadn’t taken it, but he clearly recalled the smell from when he’d passed by the classroom on dissection days. He’d stuck to computer classes. Computers didn’t smell.

The OSP detectives and Michael chose that time to step into the room, and Chris immediately missed the aura of companionship that had developed. The end of his time with Gianna was in sight. He wasn’t ready to part ways.

Michael made introductions. “Major Crimes Detectives Henry Becker and Nora Hawes. Hawes and I met during a murder case a year ago,” he said, indicating the tall woman. Nora Hawes appeared to be in her forties and looked like a young Helen Mirren. She shook their hands, said pleasantries, and handed them a business card as Chris tried not to show surprise at her lack of an accent. Henry Becker was younger and looked more like a ski instructor than a detective. He let Hawes do most of the talking, but Chris noticed he didn’t miss a word.

Gianna woke Violet and the three of them told their story for the umpteeth time.

“Can we see the pictures?” Becker asked. He had the smallest hint of an accent that made Chris think of Canada. Or somewhere near the Dakotas.

Phil brought out a battered laptop, and Chris popped the memory card into the port. He sat back as the detectives studied the photos, occasionally asking a question. When they got to the images of the body, Gianna leaned closer to the screen and increased the size of the photos. Phil and Jason looked away. “His burns are fourth degree,” Gianna stated calmly. “Black and white and charred to the bone.”

“I didn’t know there was anything beyond third degree,” muttered Becker.

“I’d call some of them third degree, too.” She pointed at the picture, her voice in lecture mode. “See where this yellow layer is exposed? That’s subcutaneous fat and—”

“Mom, please.” Violet tilted her head at Jason, who was striding out of the room.

Gianna glanced at the other listeners. Hawes shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. Go on.”

The next image popped up. “I don’t think you need my professional opinion on this one,” said Gianna.

“We’ve seen a few,” agreed Hawes as she leaned closer to study the bullet holes in the skull. “What’s this?” She touched a perfectly round ash-covered spot near the victim’s neck. Gianna shrank the image slightly, trying to bring the edges of the spot into focus.

“Looks like some sort of medallion on a chain. Does it show in the other shots?” She automatically moved to the next pictures and stopped on one. “I didn’t even notice it. I was looking at the entry holes.”

“How do you know they’re not exit holes?” Chris asked.

“The angle of the bevel. It gets smaller as it goes through the bone. Only on this photo can you see it clearly. I noticed immediately when we were in there.” She increased and decreased the size of the photo, trying to get a good look at the medallion. Chris estimated it to be a good two inches in diameter.

“That’s rapper-size jewelry,” stated Becker. “Unless it’s one of those medical alert things.”

“Not like any medical alert I’ve seen before,” stated Gianna. She frowned at the screen and continued to adjust the image.

“It has some sort of swirly design on it. Can anyone make it out?” asked Hawes.

Gianna was silent, staring at the medallion.

Becker touched the screen. “This part of the design looks like the tip of a bird’s wing. Could it be military?”

“We’ll figure it out later,” said Hawes. “It’s nearly dark. It’s going to have to wait until tomorrow, when I can get a team in there to clear the area. We aren’t going to investigate until I’m certain no one will shoot at us, and I can’t assign anyone to keep people out of the area in this cold weather overnight. I hate to leave the scene exposed, but there’re too many factors working against us right now. So I’ve given strict orders for no one to be let through on the highway.” She raised a brow at Michael. “No one.”