Elise's phone rang in the middle of the night.

It was a Savannah Police Department dispatcher.

"I know this is your night off," she said, "but there's a sticky note here saying we're supposed to call you if any dead bodies make an appearance."

Elise took down the information, thanked the woman, and hung up. Then she called Gould. His car was still in the shop, his apartment on the way. "I'll pick you up," she told him.

Gould was waiting on the front steps when she got there. He ran for the car and slid into the passenger seat as she pulled away.

Heading toward the address given to her by the dispatcher, Elise filled him in on what little details she could. "The body was discovered in the courtyard of the Secret Garden Bed and Breakfast, currently unoccupied and under renovation."

"Sex of the victim?"

"Male."

"Approximate age?"

"Nothing on that."

Elise knew they were getting close to the site before they reached it. Emergency lights flashed silently. Streets had been barricaded, and traffic was being redirected.

After parking two blocks from the perimeter, Elise and David jumped from the car, flashlights in hand, doors slamming, the pounding of their shoes sounding hollow against the cement sidewalk as they walked rapidly in the direction of the lights.

Even though it was the middle of the night, people had wandered out of their homes to watch. They huddled together on sidewalks and in the street, snatches of conversation floating toward Elise and David.

"Did you see anything?" a young female voice asked.

"I heard somebody found a body."

"I heard the head had been chopped off."

"I heard somebody was wading in the pond and tripped over it."

"Oh, man. That's sick! Really sick!"

"Not the head, you retard. The body."

"That's sick too."

To someone outside law enforcement, the scene may have appeared chaotic, but Elise automatically took note of the dividing lines that had been made to partition off witnesses, keeping them corralled until their stories could be taken down. Savannah Police Department used what they called the two-barrier method. The outer barrier was for press and gawkers, the inner barrier for the few people who were given permission to pass. Detectives and police officers were questioning people, tablets in hand.

One of the officers spotted Elise and Gould. "Weird as hell," she whispered. "The place was dark. The gates were locked, but some kids sneaked in and went wading. One of them tripped over the body and thought it was a friend joking around until it just stayed there. Turns out, it had been weighted down with rocks."

"Headless?" Elise asked.

"No, but the throat's been cut."

Elise glanced at David. Not our guy, they were both thinking.

"What about lights?" Gould asked. Randomly placed police cars with spotlights were parked at odd angles, but it wasn't enough to adequately illuminate the crime scene.

"Getting a generator set up."

"Where's the body now?" Elise asked.

"Still in the fountain," the officer said. "Or maybe I should say pond. It's huge-that's all I know. In the middle is kind of an island with a stone bench. I dragged him up there." She aimed the flashlight on herself. "Look at me."

Her pants were wet from the thigh down. When she shifted her weight, her black leather shoes squeaked and water oozed out.

"These shoes will never be the same. I wish I'd known he was dead. I wouldn't have gone to the trouble. And now I keep smelling him. Don't know if it's in my sinuses, or my clothes."

The detectives thanked her and made their way up the brick walk.

Elise turned on her flashlight as they stepped through the wrought-iron gates decorated with cherubs. "I've always loved this place." She'd visited a few times during the annual spring tour of gardens. "It's breathtaking under normal conditions."

But not now…

The first thing that hit them was the sweet smell of magnolias mixed with the stench of death. Water trickled and ferns grew from damp stone walls. There were boxwoods and trumpet vines, water poppies and hibiscuses. Nestled amid plants and trees were various kinds of statuary, from angels to frogs.

David scanned the area using a high-powered flashlight beam. "Wow," he said, pausing to admire the twisted trunk of a Jerusalem tree. In the distance, crickets chirped and chimes made a soft, delicate sound.

Elise was relieved to see that Abe Chilton was on duty. With some crime scene specialists, she had to tell them what to collect. Abe knew what he was doing.

She and David had arrived so quickly that the preliminary preparations were still under way. It wasn't their shift, but Mason and Avery hadn't yet arrived, so Elise and David temporarily took charge.

"Ready for daylight?" someone shouted.

The sound of a generator drowned out the crickets and chimes. Everybody turned their backs. One second later, brilliant, blinding light flooded the area.

Two EMTs stood in the center of the fountain, staring at the body at their feet. They looked up when the light came on, flinched, and raised their arms against the glare.

"Water," Chilton muttered. "I hate water."

Water destroyed evidence.

"We've been trying to decide if I should go there or they should come here," Chilton said.

"Best to go to the body," Elise said.

Since the victim had initially been pulled from the water, it probably made no difference, but Elise always felt it was better to have too much information than too little.

"Here they are."

Chilton's intern ran up, as happy as a puppy, a pair of hip waders in his hand. Chilton grabbed them and raised them into the air. "Are we going to draw straws for these?"

Elise heard a splash and turned to see Gould wading toward the center of the fountain, water hitting him above the knee, darkening his jeans.

"You go ahead," she said.

Chilton was wearing a suit and dress shoes, Elise nylon sandals and the kind of drawstring cotton pants a teenager might lounge in. Almost proper swimming attire.

She swung her legs over the stone barrier and stepped into the water.

"You doll," Chilton said.

He let out a satisfied sigh and put on the hip waders. Then he positioned himself on the cement wall surrounding the fountain, swung his legs over, and began sloshing through the water carrying a large gray case that resembled a fishing tackle box.

"I need more light," Chilton said when he reached the center. The foliage was dense and the single generated light stationed near the wrought-iron gates couldn't penetrate it. Immediately, powerful flashlights were directed on the body.

Nude.

Male.

Late teens, early twenties.

Moss was wrapped around the torso. A water lily clung to a forearm.

"We've got some serious deterioration going on." Chilton poked around with a gloved hand. "Our guy's not a fresh fish."

But then, a body could decompose fairly quickly in tepid shallow water under warm, humid conditions.

"Did he move?" someone asked. "Did anybody else see that? Because I thought he moved."

One of the EMTs jumped back and fell with a splash, water spraying.

After everything that had occurred lately, it wasn't surprising to find people jumpy and suspicious about true and absolute death. But if the body had a slit throat and had been submerged… not much room for doubt there.

The EMT came sloshing out of the pond, bringing with him gallons of water.

"He isn't going anywhere," Gould said. "Look." He waved his flashlight back and forth quickly across the victim. The shifting beam tricked the eye and made the body appear to move.

Light and shadow.

Someone sighed in relief.

Not Elise. She directed her own flashlight beam on the victim. Even though the face was swollen, it was one she'd seen before. One she'd seen fairly recently.

Enrique Xavier.