"You're hurting me," I repeated, pushing at his fingers encircling my arm as he pulled me out. I hit the setting sun. It struck me like a goad, and I took a huge breath, snapping out of my stupor. That wasn't Dr. Anders. The body was too old, and it had been a man's ring. It looked like it had the university's logo on it. I thought I'd just found Sara Jane's boyfriend.

Glenn dragged me to the stairs. "Glenn," I said as I stumbled on the first step. I would have fallen but for his hold on me. Another FIB vehicle was easing into the lot. A mobile morgue this time. Glenn, not taking any chances, was bringing everything there.

Slowly my legs lost their watery feeling as I put distance between me and what I had seen upstairs. I watched the FIB officers joking among themselves, not understanding. I was clearly not cut out for crime scene work. I was a runner, not an investigator. My father had worked in the arcane division where most of the bodies showed up. Now I knew why he never said much about his day at the dinner table.

"Glenn," I tried again as he pulled me into the open room between the stalls. Trent stood in a corner with Sara Jane and Quen, quietly answering questions. Glenn jerked to a stop as he saw them. He looked at his father, who shrugged. The FIB captain sat before a laptop resting on a bail of straw propped up on its end. Someone had run a line from the crime van, and Edden's stubby fingers skated over the keyboard as he played subordinate so he could stay.

Irritation pinched Glenn's face and he gestured to the young FIB officer with Trent.

"Glenn," I said as the officer edged his way to us. "That isn't Dr. Anders up there."

Edden's round face went questioning behind his glasses. Glenn flicked a glance at me. "I know," he said. "The body is too old. Sit down and shut up."

The FIB officer came to a halt beside us, and my eyes widened as Glenn put an aggressive arm across his shoulders. "I told you to detain them," he said softly. "What are they still doing here?"

The man went white. "You meant in one of the cruisers? I thought Mr. Kalamack would be more comfortable here."

Glenn's lips pressed together and his neck muscles tensed. "Detained for questioning means move them to the FIB offices. You don't question people at the crime scene when it's this important. Get them out of here."

"But you didn't say…" The man swallowed. "Yes sir." Glancing once at Edden, he headed toward Trent and Sara Jane, looking apologetic, frightened, and very young. I didn't have time to spare him any pity.

Still angry, Glenn went to stand over his father's shoulder, typing in his own password with a stiff finger. My stomach gave a lurch and settled. I pushed the top of the computer down on his hands. Glenn clenched his jaw as they both looked up at me. I turned to Trent and Sara Jane on their way out, waiting until Edden and Glenn followed my gaze to them before saying, "I can't say for sure, but I think that's Dan."

Sara Jane's face remained blank for a telling moment. Eyes widening, she clutched at Trent. Her mouth opened and closed. Burying her face in his shoulder, she began sobbing. Trent patted her shoulder gently, but his eyes on me were narrowed in anger.

Edden pursed his lips in thought, which made his graying mustache stick out as we exchanged shrewd looks. Sara Jane didn't know Dan as well as she wanted everyone to think. Why would Trent make Sara Jane come to the FIB with a phony complaint of a missing boyfriend when he knew I'd find the body on his grounds? Unless he hadn't known about it? How could he not know?

Glenn, apparently, missed everything as he grabbed my upper arm and yanked me past a hysterical Sara Jane and out into the shadows of the oak tree. "Damn it, Rachel," he hissed as Sara Jane was led sobbing to a cruiser. "I told you to shut up! You're leaving. Now. That little stunt of yours might be enough to let Kalamack walk."

Even in my heels, Glenn was taller than me, and it ticked me off. "Yeah?" I shot back. "You asked me to read Trent's emotions. Well I did. Sara Jane doesn't know Dan Smather from her mailman. Trent had him killed. And that body has been moved."

Glenn reached for me, and I stepped out of his reach. His face tightened and he took a step back, exhaling slowly. "I know. Go home," he said, extending his hand for the temporary FIB badge. "I appreciate your assistance in finding the body, but as you said, you aren't a detective. Every time you open your mouth, you're making it easier for Trent's attorney to sway a jury. Just… go home. I'll call you tomorrow."

Anger warmed me, the last dregs of adrenaline making me feel weak, not strong. "I found his body. You can't make me leave."

"I just did. Give me the badge."

"Glenn," I said as I ducked out of the necklace before he snapped it off my neck, "Trent murdered that witch as sure as if he had twisted the knife."

He held my badge in a tight grip, his anger slowing enough to show his frustration. "I can talk to him, even hold him for questioning, but I can't arrest him."

"But he did it!" I protested. "You've got a body. You've got a weapon. You've got probable cause."

"I have a body that's been moved," he said, his voice flat from his repressed emotions. "My probable cause is conjecture. I've got a weapon six hundred employees could have planted. There is nothing to link Trent to the murder yet. If I arrest him now, he could walk even if he confesses later. I've seen it happen. Mr. Kalamack may have done this on purpose, planted the body and made sure there was nothing to link him to it. If this one doesn't stick, it will be twice as hard to pin another corpse to him, even if he makes a mistake later."

"You're afraid to take him down," I accused, trying to goad him into arresting Trent.

"Listen to me real good, Rachel," he said, jolting me into taking a step back. "I don't give a dingo's ass if you think Kalamack did it. I have to prove it. And this is the only chance I'm going to get." Turning halfway around, he scanned the parking lot. "Someone take Ms. Morgan home!" he said loudly. Without a backward glance, he stomped to the stables, his heavy steps silent on the sawdust.

I stared, not knowing what to do. My attention went to Trent getting into a FIB cruiser, his expensive suit making it look wrong. He gave me an unfathomable look before the door shut with a metallic thump. Lights off and slow, the two cars pulled out.

My blood hummed and my head was pounding. Trent wasn't going to get away with this unscathed. Eventually I would tie each and every murder back to him. Having found Dan's body on his grounds would give Captain Edden the clout to get whatever warrant I wanted. Trent was going to fry. I could play it slow. I was a runner. I knew how to stalk prey.

I turned away, disgusted. I hated the law even as I relied on it. I'd much rather fight a coven of black witches than a courtroom any day. I understood witches' mores better than lawyers'. At least witches used theirs.

"Jenks!" I shouted as Captain Edden emerged from the stables, keys jingling in his hands. Great. Now I was going to have to listen to a lecture of wise-old-man crap all the way home. It felt good to shout, and I took another breath to yell for Jenks again when the pixy came to a short stop in front of me. He was literally glowing in excitement, the dust that had sifted from him drifting into me from his momentum.

"Yeah, Rache? Hey, I heard Glenn kicked you out. I told you not to go up there. But did you listen to me? No-o-o-o-o-o. No one listens to me. I've got thirty some kids, and the only one who listens to me is my dragonfly."

My anger hesitated for an instant as I wondered if he really had a pet dragonfly. Then I shook myself, sending my thoughts onto how to salvage something from this. "Jenks," I said, "can you get home from here all right?"