As she bent over the corpse, she could see unmistakable abrasions and bruising on the neck typical of strangulation. Dragging a body any distance and wedging it into a vertical crack was no mean feat. That meant the killer was almost certainly a man, which would eliminate Maggie and Nora, at any rate. Or would it? The cook, at least, looked pretty damned tough, even if she was a bit overweight. The weight might even be a plus when strangling someone.

Corrie took another series of photos, then started to examine the body. Kneeling, she placed her hand on the victim’s sternum and pressed down hard; fluid dribbled out of the mouth. Wiggett’s lungs were full of water—that meant the actual cause of death was drowning, perhaps after being rendered unconscious by strangulation.

So where had he drowned? The stream was only a few feet deep. That gloomy little lake uptrail, the tarn, was a more likely place. She took a series of photographs of the drag marks and used her compass to note the bearing; she’d check that out later. For now, it seemed obvious they were dealing with a disorganized, spur-of-the-moment homicide.

She examined the victim’s hands but found no traces of biologics under the fingernails. Still, the killer might be scratched or otherwise injured from the struggle. She made a note to scrutinize—subtly—everyone in camp.

She glanced back and saw the four law enforcement officers and the coroner standing behind the tape, waiting for her to finish. They didn’t look happy, but at least they were cooperating.

After taking a few more photos and picking up what little evidence she could find at the site—a few bits of hair, a piece of trash, some damp pine needles—she went back to the group.

“Thank you all for waiting so patiently,” she said.

There was some nodding and shuffling.

“Dr. Anand? The body is ready for you.”

“Thank you, Agent Swanson,” said Anand, ducking under the tape with his equipment.

She turned to Sheriff Devlin. “When the doctor is done, I’d appreciate it if you and the others could apply your evidence-gathering expertise to the site as well—to see if there’s anything I’ve missed.” She said this with an effort at a self-deprecating smile.

And as Devlin gave a curt, manly nod in response, Corrie realized something: amid all the sudden scurry, the activity and crime scene analysis, she’d forgotten she was a rookie—and that she had just completed the initial investigation of her first undeniable homicide.

41

AGENT SWANSON WALKED back to the main camp and retrieved the sat phone. She carried it into her hastily reassembled tent and called Morwood, down in Truckee.

“It’s Corinne Swanson, sir.”

“What’s the news?”

“Definitely a homicide. Strangulation and drowning.”

“Any thoughts on who?”

“Almost certainly a man. It’s possible the killer is someone on the expedition. But a light was seen near the place where the body was hidden, so it’s also possible someone from outside could be involved.”

“Any forensic evidence?”

“I gathered what I could. Nothing dispositive.”

“Any idea where the drowning took place?”

“Not yet. In the stream, perhaps, if he was already unconscious. There’s also a pond up beyond camp which seems the more likely place, but I haven’t examined it yet for signs of a struggle.”

“And your next action step?” In the weekly meetings, Morwood was always talking about “action steps.”

“I think we should shut down the camp. Send everyone back to Truckee while we conduct a thorough search.”

A long pause, and then Morwood answered. “That’s drastic.”

“I know. But if it’s someone in camp, there might be evidence in their tent. Wet clothes, perhaps, or blood.”

Another long pause. “Okay,” Morwood said. “I respect your call.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“As you’re always reminding me, you’ve been trained in forensic evidence collection, so here’s your chance to max out that skill set. It’s our case, for better or worse, until we can pull in the Sacramento Field Office.”

“You’re bringing in Sacramento?”

“Not just bringing them in. Turning this case over to them.”

Corrie felt surprised and stung. “But why?”

“There’s no connection to the Parkin case. I’d bet ten to one this is about the gold. The Parkin case is our case; let Sacramento take this. So keep that in mind, do everything by the book, and make sure all your evidence is solid. In other words, no speculation; just the facts, ma’am.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have at it.”

She racked the phone, then shut and latched the box, leaving it in her tent in case she needed to call Morwood again. She felt crushed that he was turning the case over to Sacramento. Despite everything, she felt there must be some connection between the missing Parkin bones and the homicide.

But this disappointment faded temporarily as she considered what would be a daunting task: evacuating the camp. It was going to be a tough sell, and she sensed Nora Kelly was not going to agree without a fight.

She emerged from her tent in time to see the sheriff and his buddies returning from the crime scene. She caught his eye and motioned him and the others over.

“Any luck?”

The sheriff held up a collection sack. “We found some stuff, but nothing suggestive. Maybe in the lab?”

“Thanks.” Corrie took the sack and set it among her other evidence. She took a deep breath. “I’ve just spoken to my supervising agent. I’m going to order that the camp be shut down for evidence collection purposes.”

Devlin stared at her. “They’re going to have a fit,” he said.

“Can’t be helped.”

The sheriff looked at his deputy, then they both exchanged glances with the Forest Service LEOs. “Your call,” the sheriff finally said.

“Your call.” Translation: “Covering my own ass.” But Corrie only smiled and nodded, then walked into the camp, the sheriff and his gang following. Nora Kelly was waiting for her, and the other expedition members quickly crowded around.

“So what did you find?” Nora asked.

“I’m sorry, but for now I have to keep the details confidential.”

“Who do you think—?”

“Nora, can we speak privately?” Corrie broke in. Then she turned. “You, too, please, Mr. Burleson.”

She led them away from the group.

“What’s up?” Nora asked.

“I’m afraid we have to ask that the camp be evacuated.”

“Evacuated? What do you mean?”

“I mean everything has to be closed down—the dig site, the camp—leaving all in place. You and your crew will need to go down to Truckee until we can complete the evidence collection.”

“Are you crazy?” Nora said. “We can’t just leave! I’ve got an open dig site up there, with exposed human remains!”

“I’m afraid it’s necessary.”

“Bullshit.” She turned and called out. “Sheriff?”

Son of a bitch, thought Corrie. This woman was a real pain in the ass.