I briefed the captain, assembled a team, located where Juno thought Eden had spotted the evidence on an aerial map, and then grabbed a quick nap in the downstairs changing rooms to avoid collapsing at my desk in front of everyone. I probably looked like a drunk, and I knew I smelled like one, but there was no call for acting like one in front of the young and impressionable beat recruits. It would be a decade and a half before any of them had any excuse to get this run down. Night had fallen by the time I got to Rye Farm. As the convoy of lights began heading up the highway toward me, I was sitting with my arms on my knees in front of my own car, trying to will myself to stand before any of my cronies saw any weakness. Eventually I moaned at the stars, held my breath, and dragged myself up by my bumper as the convoy switched off their lights and rumbled into a rough half circle in front of me. I had a couple of beat cops for muscle work, a couple of forensics specialists, and a cadaver expert with a dog.
