Gil. “I bet Fisher a hundred bucks that we’d find her alive. If that stupid bastard hadn’t killed himself, he would have enough money right now to buy us all breakfast.”

He turned back toward the sunrise and wiped his eyes again. Even though Fisher hadn’t been killed on the job, Phillips had worn a black band around his badge during the funeral. To him, it was Brianna’s case that had killed Fisher, and that made it a line-of-duty death.

“Fisher knew she was dead,” Phillips said, more to himself than Gil, before adding, “but who put her here?”

Liz, who had stopped working to listen to them, said, “Look, I can’t tell you if it’s her . . .”

“Liz,” Phillips said in a tired voice, “why don’t you shut the hell up? Of course it’s her. Who else could it be?”

“Joe,” she said, annoyed, her New Jersey accent becoming more pronounced, “there’s always the chance it’s just a skull from some archaeological dig. We’ve got a million of those going on all the time. Hell, every time anyone builds anything around here they find bones.”

Phillips shook his head and started to pace. Liz muttered something under her breath and went back to work.

Before Brianna, there had been no missing kid cases in Santa Fe since 2000. The last had been Robbie Romero, a seven-year-old who had walked out of his house one night to go visit his friend three doors down and was never seen again. These bones were too small to be from anyone over the age of five. Before Robbie, there had been no cases Gil could remember.

Phillips reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn brown wallet. He opened it, taking out a small photo that was tucked behind his driver’s license. It was of Brianna. It showed her face and part of her shoulders, her chin resting sweetly on her hand. Her hair was short, not yet grown out from its baby wispiness. Tiny pink rhinestones sparkled in her pierced ears, matching her pink T-shirt with roses. Her big, dark eyes smiled. It was the same photo Gil had seen a thousand times—on posters at every convenience store around town and in the newspaper accompanying each story about Brianna’s disappearance. Phillips stared at the photo for a moment and seemed about to give it to Gil, but he put it back in his wallet, which he shoved into his pocket with force.

“I hate this,” Joe said. “What does this mean, finding her now? It’s been a year since she disappeared. Does this mean someone killed her last year and kept her body this whole time, doing who knows what with it? Or does this mean that he kept her alive and then just killed her, like, last week? . . . Oh, God.”

Joe walked off toward the bushes looking like he might throw up. Gil considered going over to check on him, but then realized that was probably a bad idea. As cold as it sounded, Gil couldn’t allow himself to get too caught up in emotion and speculation. No matter how horrible the crime seemed at the moment, he would still have to build a solid case, one brick at a time, just like any other investigation. He couldn’t head off into the scary places just yet. Or, like Joe, he would end up being sick.

An old Ford truck pulled up near the crime scene tape, and a man with a shaved head jumped out. Gil recognized him instantly. It was Mike Vigil, the director of Zozobra for the Kiwanis Club. Mike and Gil had played basketball together at St. Michael’s High School almost fifteen years ago. Gil walked toward him, and the two men shook hands. Gil assumed one of the Protectores had called him.

“What can you tell me?” Mike asked.

“Basically, all I can say is that we found a skull in Zozobra,” Gil said.

“I heard it was a kid’s skull,” Mike said.

“I can’t tell you anything more about it, sorry,” Gil said. He knew this had to be tough for Mike. He was in charge of the burning, which was a family event that usually went off without a hitch.

“Okay, but you’ve got to tell me this,” Mike said, his eyes tearing up slightly. “Did I burn a kid alive last night?”

“No, Mike,” Gil said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No. Whoever the skull belongs to was long dead.” Mike nodded, taking a big breath of relief. Gil said to him, “Look,