Jeffrey had been quiet through all of this, and when he said, "Powder tattooing," his voice was so low Sara was not sure if he had spoken the words or she had heard them in her own head.

He was right. There was a scatter-shot of reddish brown lesions surrounding the entrance wound where hot powder grains from the gun had burned the skin. Sara held the ruler as Reggie took photographs. She lightly combed her fingers through the hair and checked the surrounding skin for telltale markings. Finally, she said, "There's no soot that I can see."

"Did he bleed it off?" Jeffrey asked, standing beside her.

"Not from this side," she told him, feeling slightly relieved. The head was a mess, but she could see it clearly under the light now. Powder tattooing with the absence of soot most likely indicated an intermediate-range wound, meaning Robert was standing at least eighteen to twenty-four inches from the man when Swan was shot.

Jeffrey asked, "What'd he have in the Glock again?"

Paul was thumbing back through his notes. "Federal, one-fifteen grain."

"Ball powder," Jeffrey said, with palpable relief. He told Hoss, "Ball powder travels faster. That puts Robert anywhere from two to four feet away."

"Goes with what he said this morning," Hoss told them. "Had a hangfire when he pulled the trigger."

"Hangfire?" Sara repeated, though not because she did not understand the word. A hangfire meant there was a delay between Robert pulling the trigger and the bullet being fired from the gun.

Jeffrey asked, "Did he say how long it took?"

"He wasn't sure," Hoss answered. "Maybe half a second or so."

Jeffrey looked at Sara, and she wondered if her own expression of disbelief mirrored his. There was no scientific way to prove or disprove how the gun had fired or when. Bullets did not come with a time stamp, and whether or not the gun had in fact had a hangfire was impossible to prove with any scientific accuracy.

Sara turned her focus back to the head, combing through the hair for debris and setting it aside on the tray for collection. She tried to keep her mind on the task, but all she could think was how quickly excuses were being made for every question the evidence raised. If the situation had been reversed and Robert was lying on the table in front of her, she knew that all the men here would track down Luke Swan like a rabid dog.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Jeffrey asked Hoss, "Where's Robert now?"

"He's with Jessie at her mama's," Hoss provided. "Why?"

"I thought I'd check in on him. See how he's doing."

"He's fine," Hoss said, looking at his watch. "This is running a little later than I thought it would. I need to step out for a meeting."

Jeffrey asked, "Do you want Paul to take our statements?"

Hoss seemed to have forgotten about this, but he answered, "No, I'll do that. Let's meet back at the station around three."

Jeffrey told him, "We were planning on leaving before then."

"That's fine," Hoss told them, giving Jeffrey a hard pat on the back. "Y'all drop by the station on your way out of town. I'm sure it won't take long."

Paul waited for his boss to leave before saying, "I need to get back to some paperwork myself." He gave Sara a polite nod, then left the room. Deacon White was next, making an excuse about a lunch appointment. Sara wondered if he noticed the clock in the room read ten.

Reggie put down his camera and leaned against the sink, his expression plainly stating he had nowhere to go and even if he did, he did not trust Jeffrey alone in the room with the corpse.

Jeffrey made it worse by asking Reggie, "What did Robert's statement say?"

Reggie shrugged. "Why are you so curious?"

Jeffrey returned the shrug.

Sara did not know how Reggie would handle this, but still, she told Jeffrey, "I don't want to dig around for the bullet. We need X rays first or I'll destroy any evidence."

Reggie said, "There wasn't another bullet in the room. I checked. It was just the two twenty-two LRs in the walls and casings on the floor like I drew."

Jeffrey seemed cautious, like he was feeling Reggie out. "What did Robert carry for backup?"

Reggie stared without answering.

Sara added, "A twenty-two would have less velocity than a nine-mil. It would be more likely to stay in the skull."

Reggie's chin dropped slightly. His eyes went from Jeffrey to Sara. "I think we should find that bullet."

Jeffrey nodded his agreement, saying, "Yeah."

Sara changed into a fresh pair of gloves, thinking she hardly had the authority to do this, but also knowing that this was the only way to find the truth. Carefully, she probed around the exit wound in the skull with her fingers, not wanting to use the forceps because they could scratch or change the markings on the metal.

"Nothing," she finally said. "It could be deeper in."

Reggie told her, "Hoss won't let us take him back for X rays."

"Luke," Jeffrey said. "His name's Luke Swan. You ever have him in your cruiser?"

"Hell," Reggie snorted. "About a million times."

"For what?"

"Mostly breaking and entering, but he always made sure the houses were empty. Usually, he picked when he thought folks were at church."

"Last night was Sunday."

"Church is over by eight. Even if he was stoned, he would've seen the cars in the driveway and known."

"You ever find a weapon on him?"

"Not once."

"He ever do anything violent?"

"No." Reggie paused as if to think it over. "He was small-time, usually just taking what he could carry out in a pillowcase." He added, "But you never know, do you? I bet the people said the same thing about your daddy before he hooked up with them fellas who shot my uncle Dave."

Sara saw Jeffrey's throat work as he swallowed.

Reggie continued, "You never know what some people are capable of. One minute they're stealing lawn mowers, the next minute they're murdering a sheriff's deputy in cold blood."

Sara felt the need to say something, though she could not think what. Jeffrey's fists were clenched like he wanted nothing more than to beat Reggie to a pulp. Making things worse, Reggie tilted his chin up, practically begging Jeffrey to take a swing.

Sara asked, "Reggie, would you mind taking notes?"

Reggie took his time breaking eye contact with Jeffrey. "No, ma'am," he said, taking out his notebook. He glanced back at Jeffrey. "Anything to help."

While he wrote, Sara went back through her findings, not wanting to track down Paul for his earlier notes and delay leaving this god-awful town a minute longer than necessary. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Jeffrey staring at Luke Swan and wondered what he was thinking. He had not told her that the shooting his father was involved in resulted in the death of a cop. Reggie's words had obviously hit their mark, and she could feel Jeffrey's anger melt into a sadness that felt almost like a fourth presence in the room.

The rest of the autopsy was as routine as was possible with any gunshot victim. There were no remarkable findings and no clues that pointed to anything other than what Robert had told them last night. Long-term drug use was obvious, as was a fatty diet that left deposits of calcium in Swan's heart. His liver was larger than expected, but considering Sara found alcohol in the man's stomach, it made sense. As for the missing bullet, maybe Reggie had overlooked it at the house or maybe it was buried deeper in the brain. Sara had not opened Swan's head, wanting to leave the option of X rays open should Hoss later be persuaded to actually investigate the case.

Sara was closing the Y-incision with the usual baseball stitch when she remembered to ask about clothing.

Reggie supplied, "They're in a bag at the station."

"They're not here?" Sara asked, thinking that was odd.