OFF-TRAIL
follows "Kintsugi"

***October 14, 2024***

The couple just topping the rise of that portion of the hiking trail was not walking in unison. He—a lean-faced man with light brown hair and shrewd grey eyes in his early thirties, wearing a long-sleeved blue-and-orange New York Knicks jersey, jeans, Nikes, and a matching Knicks baseball cap—was visibly enjoying himself, proceeding at a measured stride. His companion—also in her twenties, nearly as tall as he, dark hair scraped back in a ponytail under a pink baseball cap, in a scalloped-edge three-quarter sleeve jersey blouse over blue jeans and white Skechers that were no longer white—trudged more than walked.

"This is your idea of fun?" she panted as she kept up with him. "I wish you'd have at least let me bring my phone. Please slow down."

He obligingly shortened his stride for her, but objected, "Sorry, I get in a groove. But you're always on your phone, Katie Lynn. I worry about you."

Her eyes sparkled at his concern, but she still waved her hand at the blaze of autumn trees to her right. "I appreciate it, David. Truly. But if I had it, I could take a photo of that valley!"

He swayed the camera suspended from a thong on his wrist. "That's why I brought this."

"David, you're strange. Who needs a camera anymore with an iPhone?"

David laughed. "No iPhone means you don't get distracted by the internet when you should be looking at the scenery. I told you Fenwick Hills would have gorgeous foliage this weekend! And this Pentax takes way better photos than any phone—call me old-fashioned if you want!" He handed her the camera. "Viewfinder there. Press the button when you see something you like."

A moment later, at the crest of the hill in an oval clearing scattered with twigs, leaves, and acorns, they both stopped to rest. To their right, the land sloped downward abruptly so that they overlooked a shallow, backward-C-shaped valley full of maple, oak, ash, and birch trees clad in autumn glory: saffron, amber, golden, apricot, tangerine, burnt orange, rusty red, vermilion, and maroon. Sumac and bittersweet flashed scarlet and ruby in the underbrush, and they appreciated the splendor as Katie Lynn snapped photo after photo, pausing only to gasp out thanks for persuading her to go leaf-peeping. David then wheeled slowly to his left, taking in the brightly-hued leaves among the dark greens of pines and firs.

"Oh, fuck, look at that," he barked unexpectedly. "Sorry for the language, but people are such pigs."

"What?" Katie Lynn asked, then followed his gaze down a trail along a more gradual slope to the left. "All I can see is that red sumac bush."

"I thought I saw orange plastic, like a trash bag. Somebody actually dumped- In the middle of all this...stinking pigs." Then David said resignedly, "Slope doesn't look too bad on that side. Let me go grab it so we can toss it at the end of the trail."

"What if it's full of trash?" Katie Lynn asked, dubious. "There could be like dog shit in it or something."

"If it looks like something is disgusting inside or I can't carry it, I'll put a marker here, a branch or something," he said as he gingerly made his way down the gravel and dirt path, "and we can let the rangers know- Shit!"

Katie Lynn saw him teeter and slide, then almost fall. "David, watch out!"

"Sorry, babe. A little steep in this spot." She saw him regain his balance by extending his arms to the side. Finally, he came abreast of the red sumac bush. "Yeah, there's something down here, behind the sumac, under some leaves, and it's bright or–" Katie Lynn heard him suck in his breath and then utter another, very vehement, "Shit!"

"David, what's going on?" she called anxiously.

"Fuck, there's something solid in there. Someone dumped their–"

The silence that followed made Katie Lynn step to the edge of the trail and stare at his frozen figure, hoping to see more of what he had, but his body was blocking her line of sight. "David? You okay?" She heard him cough, scuffle, and crunch through dead leaves, then trudge back up the gentle slope. His eyes were wide and his face pale.

"I wish I had let you bring–" he wheezed as if he were having trouble breathing, then lifted his chin. "Do you hear that?"

Katie Lynn tilted her head to make out excited treble voices. "Sounds like kids coming up the trail."

He waved his arm. "Head 'em off, hurry! I hope an adult's with them. Ask if one of them has a cell phone."

She froze. "David, what the hell's down there?"

"Just go!"

. . . . .

"Randall," Robert Goren called, "back on the trail, bud."

"But I see a mushroom—that's on the scavenger hunt." Randall Shaw wheeled from the leaf-scattered side path on which he'd barely taken four steps before his foster father's keen eyes noticed his divergence. Clad in a plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, jeans, and his ubiquitous Chucks, he was almost dancing in place, thick dark hair fluttering over his wire-rimmed glasses.

Didn't he just brush that hair before we hit the trail? Alexandra Eames Goren thought, then chuckled to herself at sounding like her mother again. Neither she nor her former NYPD partner-turned-husband had considered that a hike in Fenwick Hills State Park would satisfy their foster child's mystery-loving proclivities until Randall had laid eyes on the scavenger hunt in the Junior Ranger booklet and had determined to find everything.

"Where, where?" Olivia, their adopted daughter, demanded, pushing next to him. Her blond curls were restrained by a ponytail, and she was dressed similarly in plaid shirt, jeans, and her favorite lilac sneakers, her beloved Las Vegas CSU baseball cap shading her face.

"Hey, find your own mushroom!" Randall objected, but he wore a big grin as he did so, and Olivia gave him a playful little shove.

"It's there, see," Randall pointed to a row of overlapping fungi growing in the trunk of a half-rotted tree and then to the somewhat rumpled Junior Ranger pamphlet. "Chicken of the Woods."

"You're right!" Olivia said triumphantly. "Laetiporus sulphureus."

"Nice work," Bobby said admiringly as they checked off their lists with stubby pencils. He had a third copy of the Junior Ranger pamphlet, having quickly run through the "trail teaser" puzzles while his family had stopped at a comfort station a mile back, and was keeping track of their progress. "You're both almost done. Abandoned birds' nest. Red maple tree. Squirrel. Ash tree. Birch tree. Trail marker for the old Mohegan camp. Mushroom. Um...Y-shaped branch." He arched eyebrows at Alex, whose returned glance from under her wide-brimmed sun hat acknowledged she remembered a particular shared woodland adventure. "Five different birds."

"I have a chickadee, a wren, a song sparrow, a male cardinal, and a crow," Olivia boasted.

"I have the chickadee, too, and the sparrow," Randall countered. "A nuthatch, a junco, and the geese that flew by."

"Good job, you two." Alex patted Randall's shoulder. It was difficult to believe he was the "lost boy" they had taken home two months earlier, noting that, if he kept growing as quickly as he had in that period, he'd outgrow her five-foot-two by January.

"Mister!" came a shout from down the trail as first the head and then the rest of the body of a dark-haired young woman appeared. She seemed frantic. "Ma'am! Can you help?"

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked as she halted before them, gasping. "Here, sip some water," and he offered the water bottle hooked on his belt. She gave his tall, broad-shouldered form a wild-eyed look, and he assured her, "It's okay. This is my wife, these are our kids. Is anyone hurt?"

"Papa's an FBI agent!" Olivia offered as further reassurance.

Katie Lynn gulped the liquid gratefully, then panted, "I'm not hurt...and neither is my boyfriend...but we were hiking, like you, and...he...he saw that someone threw a trash bag down in some bushes. He went...went to go get it, to throw away—David's like that—then he came running back to me...said to find someone with a cell phone. He left ours...in the car...says I spend too much time on it–"

Alex soothed, "I think I can guess what's happened. My husband and I are former police officers, and this was something we saw all the time. People have a pet that dies and don't want to spend the money to properly dispose of the body. So they wrap it in plastic and discard it in a park or the woods."

"Ewww!" blurted Olivia.

"We found one in our dumpster once," Randall offered eagerly. "My m-mom and I took out the trash, and there were fl-flies everywhere and this awful smell, and th-there was this trash bag, and a cat's back leg was sticking out and maggots were crawling–"

Bobby rested one hand on Randall's shoulder. "Rand, you're making me queasy, and I've seen dead bodies. This is the last thing this young woman wants to hear." Then he gestured to Katie Lynn. "I'm s-sorry about that. Take us to David, please; let's see what we can help with."

Alex arched her eyebrows at him and eyed the children. He looked thoughtful, but all four followed Katie Lynn back to the clearing where David was waiting, pacing back and forth. When he saw the children, he blanched, then looked nervously up and down the trail as if to see if anyone else approached. When alternate assistance wasn't forthcoming, he strode up to Bobby and asked tightly, "Hey, man, can I borrow your phone? Or–" His eyes sought Katie Lynn's, and then words tumbled from his mouth. "I made her leave her phone behind, y'know. She's always surfing...I wanted her to enjoy the walk, and now–"

"Who can we call for you?" Alex asked briskly, her cell already out.

He eyed Randall, and especially Olivia, who was regarding him with big eyes. "The...police. I think–" And he stopped.

Alex stepped a few feet away from her family, gesturing to David. They conferred for a moment, then she tapped some numbers into her cell.

After a few minutes, they became aware of women's voices growing louder from the direction of the upper trail. Alex glanced warningly over her shoulder, and Bobby nodded at once and motioned to the children to head up the slight slope with him to waylay the hikers. As the tallest of the trio, Bobby saw the oncoming pair first.

The younger was a sturdy Black woman in her mid-twenties. She wore a khaki-colored blouse and thick jeans, her feet clad in hiking shoes and wool socks. Against the sun, she wore a New York Mets baseball cap.

The older woman's face he could only partially make out, for shading her expressive features was a wide-brimmed blue-tinted faux-straw sun hat. He could also see a flash of dark red hair, and he estimated her age as close to Alex's. She wore a conglomeration of colorful clothing that made Bobby blink: a tie-dyed yet tailored blouse in shades of pink, pale blue, and lavender; Capri pants in the same shade of lavender; crew-length blue socks; and a pair of running shoes that he could only describe as "a rainbow run amok." Even though she was hiking, she carried a big tote bag over one shoulder, one patterned in silver-and-pale blue diamonds in a Harlequin design.

The colorfully-dressed woman looked up just as he was about to speak, and to his astonishment, she exclaimed, "Oh, my God, it's you!"

Olivia and Randall both stopped dead in their tracks, as did the young Black woman, but her companion nearly dropped the tote bag as she rushed up to him. "This is incredible. Who would have guessed I would meet you here?"

Bobby was nonplussed. He said very gently, "I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't...um...believe I know you."

The woman's eyes sparkled. "Well, of course not, since we were never introduced. Kaya, isn't this wonderful?"

The younger woman shrugged helplessly at Bobby, then hazarded, "I suppose–"

Her companion sighed deeply and dropped her fluttering hands. "I sound like a big ninny, don't I? I'm so sorry. Let me start again."

She drew in a breath, and then both children and Bobby could see the shrewd eyes that she hid behind in her direct assault on life. "Sidney Jacobs had me sit in on one of your lectures, Agent Goren, the one you did two weeks ago at Columbia. I was very impressed. He was supposed to introduce us when you finished, but I was called away in the middle of your Q&A." She beamed at the young woman. "That was the Walsh case, wasn't it? The body–"

The young woman she had addressed as "Kaya" cleared her throat loudly.

"Oh, yes," the woman amended. "The kids. I'm so sorry—I forget and talk shop." Now she smiled at Olivia and Randall. "Hi, I'm happy to meet you both."

Olivia's outgoing nature resurfaced. "I'm very pleased to meet you, madame. I'm Olivia Goren, and this is my foster brother Randall...oh, Randall–" because he had ducked his head self-consciously, the Junior Ranger pamphlet and his pencil held fast in his left hand.

The woman said gently, "That's okay. He reminds me of my Teddy. He was always a little shy when he was that age. I'm glad to meet you, Randall and Olivia."

She looked up to see Bobby smiling at her. "I remember," he said. "Sid told me he had someone he wanted me to...um...meet, but that you had to leave. Elsbeth Tascioni? From Chicago. You're in the city in an advisory capacity to the NYPD."

"I came to New York due to a consent decree," Tascioni said, a bit abashed. "Internal Affairs, if you get my drift." She wore a troubled expression for a few seconds, then she smiled, and the sun came back out in her eyes. "That's taken care of. But I've been asked to stay on."

"By Captain Walker," Bobby nodded in admiration. "He's a tough nut, I've heard. If he l-likes you, you have a friend for life."

Tascioni dimpled. "I hope so. He's actually a very nice man." She paused, then looked anticipatory. "So, what's going on up ahead?"

Bobby said blandly, "The kids and I were just walking–"

Her eyes shifted sideways. "I...don't think so."

He laughed. "You are everything Sid said you would be."

"I hope that's a compliment," Tascioni returned. "And excuse my manners, this is Kaya Blanke. We work together. Kaya, this is FBI Special Agent Robert Goren, lecturer and profiler extraordinaire."

He shook hands with Tascioni's friend. "She's being too flattering—sometimes not so extraordinaire."

"Pleased to meet you..." Kaya said genially. "And Olivia and Randall."

"Bobby!"

"And that must be your wife, Alexandra Eames," Tascioni said happily as Alex appeared on the crest of the path, until she read her mood. "Oh...maybe there's a problem."

Randall's eyes lit. "Is it a mystery?"

A look of alarm flashed on Tascioni's face. Kaya understood almost immediately and took her cue from the Junior Ranger pamphlet in Randall's hand. "Hey, is that a nature scavenger hunt? I used to love doing those!" she fibbed, never having even heard of them until she and Tascioni came to the park for their outing. "Did you find everything on the list?"

Olivia said quickly, knowing her foster brother's proclivities, "No, madame, we're still missing a chipmunk and a natural trail sign."

"Chipmunks can be hard to find since they're so small," Kaya replied. "Here, why don't I help you?"

"But Mom just–"

"That would be brill!" Olivia piped up. "Please, Randall, we have to finish our list! So it's complete."

Randall's fetish for completion and lists swayed him.

"If that's okay, Agent Goren..." Kaya amended.

"You can call me 'Bob,' and it's fine. You two do what Officer Blanke says and don't w-wander away from her."

Randall's shoulders dropped in disappointment, but the children tagged after Kaya, whom Tascioni had given a broad wink.

"Let's go reassure your wife," Tascioni said briskly, stepping off at a pace that gave Bobby pause, for Alex was now wearing a troubled frown as her eyes followed the children and their older companion.

"They're NYPD," Bobby assured Alex as soon as they were in earshot. "And it's...it's not a dead dog, is it?"

"Not unless dead dogs now come with human bones in their paws," Alex said grimly.

"You found a body?" Tascioni asked, wide-eyed.

"The hikers ahead of us apparently did. Alex, this is Elsbeth Tascioni." His eyes twinkled. "Defense attorney extraordinaire."

"Oh..." Tascioni said, embarrassed.

"You're attached to Captain Walker's precinct," Alex said instantly. "Your name came up in one of my BLE meetings." She added in explanation, "Mayor's Better Law Enforcement Task Force."

"I had no idea my name was being bandied around so widely. Should I be flattered...or forewarned?"

"In this case, you were being viewed as a curiosity."

Tascioni rolled her eyes upward. "Hmmm. 'Curiosity.' I suppose I can deal with that." Then she asked eagerly, "So what did our witnesses find?"

"They—David Burch, 31, of Litchfield, and his girlfriend Katie Lynn Sommers, 29—were hiking as we were. He'd persuaded her to leave her iPhone behind; I take it she's addicted. Burch states that on their walk, he saw what he thought was a bright orange trash bag. He was angry that someone had 'despoiled'—his word, not mine—the woods with trash and wanted to get rid of it. He turned out to be right, and when he got close, he noticed a 'human hand and arm.'"

Tascioni winced. "That can't have been pleasant."

"But you haven't checked it out yourself," Bobby surmised.

"Not and ruin evidence. I've called the local police and sent Burch and Sommers back to the ranger station. Once they figure out who has jurisdiction in the park, someone will be here. They asked that we contact the rangers to secure the scene. Burch was fairly distressed."

"So long as we didn't destroy evidence–" Bobby proposed, and, as if she'd had the same thought, Tascioni immediately brightened.

"Well, we must, mustn't we? Go check out what we can as carefully as possible—while we can?" she said with a birdlike glance upward. "I mean, don't those clouds look like they're building up? If it starts to rain, valuable evidence could be lost...we ought to get some photos of the scene as Mr. Burch found it, at least."

Bobby tilted his head upward to observe what he knew were merely cumulus clouds, not nimbostratus, but offered no objection. Alex quashed a sigh.

Tascioni set off in the direction Alex had come from, and they followed her, eyeing each other speculatively. Alex thought Bobby resembled a hunting dog about to explode if he wasn't let off the leash.

Once over the crest of the slope, they found Tascioni unerringly at the head of the path. "This is it, isn't it?"

"Yes," Bobby answered, because now that the wind had shifted, there was the unmistakable, if faint, scent of decomposition.

Alex said briskly to hide her reaction, "Let me change memory cards. Whoever responds will want the photos, and I'm not losing the ones I have of the kids."

She did so while Bobby cast about around them and found three relatively long fallen branches, trimming twigs off with his switchblade. "So we can poke around without getting too close."

"We better put these on, too," Tascioni warned, fishing in her tote bag and coming out with three pairs of disposable blue paper foot coverings. "We don't want to leave distracting shoe prints or residue."

"You carry crime-scene booties in your bag?" Alex asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, these days I never know when I'll be called to a crime scene," was the explanation. Once she was clad in disposable booties and had taken a branch, Tascioni padded off, hugging the edge of the path.

Alex whispered in Bobby's ear, "You never mentioned you had a younger, geekier sister, either."

He arched eyebrows at her, then they joined Tascioni in keeping to the very edge of the path Burch had tentatively explored, balancing on tree roots and treading on grass and pine straw rather than possibly further damaging what might be a crime scene.

"Now, if you see anything unusual..." Tascioni began, then she chuckled warmly. "Sorry! As if I need to warn either of you that. One of the homicide investigations I participated in involved Major Case, and I heard plenty about your exploits."

"I didn't realize there was anyone old enough left in Major Case to be passing around tall tales about us," Alex remarked, then paused. "Stop. You see there, where the gravel has been disturbed. That's where Burch said he slipped on his way down."

"He certainly disturbed the path enough," Tascioni frowned. "Wait—do you see that? It's pink."

Bobby saw it as well, the tiniest scrap of paper amid the disturbed scree.

Alex pointed her camera at the pink scrap and zoomed in as far as possible before snapping a shot. She showed it to her husband. "What do you think? Parking lot receipt?"

Bobby squinted at it. "Date stamped, it looks like."

"It's torn, though, and might not be legible. And it's possible it has no relation to the corpse."

"Agreed. Could have been someone who came down here to take a leak," returned Bobby.

Alex mused, "Too bad we can't reach it to bag it. If it rains before CSU gets here–"

"Too bad we don't have those long tweezers CSU carries–"

"No, but I do have this," and Tascioni dipped into her tote bag and came out with a quart-sized zipper bag. "I might be...able..." and she crouched down and, using the branch as a vertical support to balance herself, was just able to lean out over the path and cover the scrap with the furthest corner of the bag. "Cross fingers that a breeze doesn't pick it up."

Bobby eyed her with amusement, rubbing the left side of his neck as he did when he was thinking. "Ms. Tascioni, you don't happen to be related to Mary Poppins, do you?"

For a split second, Tascioni looked blank, and then she broke into a delighted grin. "Well, that's a much better comparison than my ex-husband ever made." A pause. "All right, there's the bag David Burch discovered. I think it was originally tied, don't you?"

They took a few steps closer where they could see the slashed-open trash bag— and the hand and wrist hanging out.

"Yes," Alex said unhappily. "It's pretty evident that animals have been eating the corpse."

"Foxes most likely," Bobby pointed out. "There are the tracks."

"Are they fox prints?" Tascioni said in surprise.

Bobby smiled thinly, "Unless I want to c-contradict the Junior Ranger pamphlet."

Tascioni gave him a small smile. "I like you, Agent Goren."

"Thank you. And it's Bobby," he said, then laid an affectionate hand on Alex's shoulder, "and Alex."

"Elsbeth, then," was the response, and then she gave reluctant attention to the bright orange bag. "I wish we'd met over better circumstances. Not to mention...odors."

"Tell me," Alex said ruefully. She took several photos of the bag from different heights and side angles, then passed her camera to Elsbeth, who stood on the roots of an oak tree three yards ahead. Her lips pursed, Elsbeth also took several angle shots, including one over her head, which she observed in the viewfinder by craning her head upward.

"I think I see a partial shoe print further on than the bag," commented Bobby.

"Burch could have walked past it and not told me," Alex responded. "It could be his."

Elsbeth also snapped a few photos of the shoe print.

"So he told you he came as far as the bag...um...and that was when he saw the hand." Bobby looked grim, even after years of viewing corpses in every stage of decomposition, for the limb in question, draped from the bag, was not only chewed but was crawling with ants and flies.

"Check out the leaves covering the bag," Tascioni noted. "Could the wind have blown them around it that perfectly?"

"If so, it would have had to be a west wind," Bobby contributed. "But we haven't had that many windy days since this was dumped—not enough to cover the bag like that."

"So you think the leaves were deliberately dumped on it to draw attention away from the bag? It's an unnatural orange, certainly," Alex said, "but did any of us really notice it from the top of the trail?"

"I did," Bobby confessed, "but I already knew I was looking for something." He indicated the trees with a wave of his left index finger. "Color's pretty vivid this year, especially the orange. Do you think...um...a layman could distinguish this bag from...that maple–" And he waved a hand at a particular vivid sugar maple a few paces away from them.

Elsbeth gestured with her hands, as if they helped her think. "If he was especially sharp-eyed..."

Bobby carefully reached out with his tree branch to catch a corner of the orange plastic bag and open it further. A cloud of flies buzzed out, accompanied by the fetid smell of death.

"I remember now what I don't miss about Major Case," Alex coughed, trying to hold her stomach down.

"Ms. Tas–" Bobby began, just as Elsbeth puffed her cheeks to hold her breath while she reached once more into the capacious bag, handing something off to Bobby. "Elsbeth...and quick!"

Bobby unscrewed the plastic jar as his gorge rose and swiped a thick chunk of greasy, glassy Vicks Vap-O-Rub on one finger, passing it to Elsbeth and then another to Alex before depositing a glob under his own nose.

After a few deep breaths of camphor and eucalyptus, Alex was able to speak. "That's where all those police dramas get it wrong; they show people just wrinkling their noses a little or covering them with hankies or tissues."

"And no one ever...shows the flies," Elsbeth said thickly.

Bobby's eyes were watering, but he continued gamely, "Vic looks like a young woman, although that's only a guess...there's the small stature and the nail polish. There are small men, and there are men who do use nail polish. Hair may be blonde or light brown."

He turned to Alex. "What else did Burch and Sommers tell you?"

"That they've been dating about a month, the usual stuff: dinner, the movies, an art show last week, but this was the first outdoor thing they've done together. Just like us, out to see the leaves, get some exercise." A wry expression crossed her face. "To me, Burch sounded a little pushy. Sommers wanted to kick back this weekend, go on a wine-tasting tour. Burch said the leaves were at peak, that they had come today. Although she admitted to me that she didn't mind, it was a beautiful day for a hike."

"You know what the biggest puzzle is, of course," Elsbeth hazarded.

"The bag," Alex said instantly.

"Exactly." Bobby's words practically stepped on the heels of hers. "You take all the trouble to carry a b-body out here, hide it under a pile of leaves—and you use," and the three finished in unison, "a bright orange bag?"

"It might have been an impulse kill, and that's all the person had," Elsbeth said thoughtfully. She reminded Alex of a robin when she cocked her head.

"But if you did make the effort to bring the bag here and cover it with leaves, wouldn't you have taken extra care to keep it hidden?" objected Alex. "I'd make that extra trip to Walmart or whatever to get super-tough lawn bags, and lawn bags in duller colors."

"Brown, if you can find them, black or dark green in a pinch," Bobby finished. "But that's you, Eames."

Elsbeth was simply staring at the bag.

Can you hear her mind whirring? Alex's glance said clearly to him.

"You know, I don't think we can do anything more here," Bobby said quietly. "Why don't we make our way back to the main trail?"

"What?" Elsbeth said, startled, his words jerking her from deliberation. "Oh. Yes." She gave the bag and its unfortunate contents one last long look, and then they once again carefully sidled along the roots of the trees and the tussocks of grass. Alex stopped only once, to take a few more photos of the disturbed gravel on the path.

"Funny," she commented, "Burch told me he slipped because this bit of the path was steep. I don't consider it particularly steep."

Once on the trail again, instead of replying to her comment, Elspeth asked, "Alex...I don't suppose you asked them more about themselves."

"Oh, Ms. Sommers was happy to chat," answered Alex. "As I mentioned, Mr. Burch looked pretty shaken, so we just had some girl talk while he was leaning over trying not to be sick."

"How shaken?" Bobby asked abruptly.

Alex considered, scratching her upper lip. "It occurred to me...he didn't seem as upset by the idea of a dead body as by the condition of the dead body."

Elsbeth perked. "We were just talking about that, though: the reality of actual dead bodies." Her look was anticipatory now. "And the girl talk?"

"Ms. Sommers met Mr. Burch at their workplace. She actually blushed when she told me about him; she's that into him. She told me she was lucky because, when she first started on the job, he was dating another woman, but after a few months, David broke up with her and asked Katie Lynn out."

"So romantic!" Elsbeth said, but her words conflicted with the intense expression on her face.

"Her co-workers told her this was a plus for David," Alex said reflectively. "None of them seemed to like the ex very much. They told Katie Lynn she wasn't a nice person."

The three were quiet for a moment, then Elsbeth said firmly, "I'm fairly sure the bag color is significant. What if...someone wanted to make certain they could spot it?"

Bobby's roving eyes were suddenly drawn to a spot on the main trail. "Oh...I'm sure of it."

A boyish whoop came from the direction where they had last seen Kaya Blanke, Olivia, and Randall, then they heard childish voices calling from a distance. Bobby quickly tossed his tree branch into the underbrush, and the other two followed; Elsbeth whipped tissue out of her tote bag so that they could clean under their noses; and Alex swapped memory cards, so that by the time Kaya strolled up with a satisfied smile and an excited Randall and Olivia, it seemed as if the three adults were waiting for them.

"Chipmunks chirp, Papa!" Olivia said breathlessly, running to his side. "They sound like birds."

"They don't make squirrel noises at all," Randall told Alex, then added earnestly, "Kaya was really good luck! We saw two of them, chasing each other!"

"I was glad to help," Kaya said with a genuine smile, but her eyes were telegraphing a different message. Elsbeth mouthed "Wait!" to her.

"So what did you find?" asked Olivia eagerly.

Alex said in the frankest voice she could muster, "It's exactly what I told the two hikers. Some nasty person left their dog's remains out here."

Randall made a face. "Major ick. But that's all it was? Just a poor dead dog?"

"Afraid so," Bobby said soberly.

The boy just huffed, then turned around, his body already swaying restlessly, ready to be on the go again. Then he stiffened. "'Livia, look!"

The big oak tree across from the path that led to the remains had huge, curving roots that protruded into the trail. Two roots formed a shallow bowl in front of the tree, scattered with acorns and dried fallen leaves, centered with a little pyramid made of stones.

"It's the last thing we need for our list!" he said triumphantly.

"A natural trail marker. It's called a 'cairn,'" Olivia told the adults excitedly. She pulled the now crumpled Junior Ranger pamphlet and the miniature pencil from her jeans' pocket. Randall mirrored her movements. "We're done! We can go back to the ranger station for our prize!"

Randall said excitedly, "Can Olivia and I walk ahead and see if we can find another trail marker?"

Bobby nodded. "Stay in sight of us—don't get too far ahead."

The children proceeded up the trail, chattering about the type of prize they might win, and as soon as the pair was out of earshot, Bobby tilted his head at the cairn he had spotted before his quick-eyed brood. "Someone did make certain they could spot it from the trail."

Kaya Blanke asked bluntly, "Okay, what's going on?"

"Well, for starters, I think we're following Olivia and Randall," Elsbeth Tascioni said briskly, setting the tote bag firmly on her shoulder. "By the way, did our couple say where they worked?"

"CDOT," was Alex's brisk response. "Connecticut Department of Transportation. Mr. Burch is a field supervisor, and Ms. Sommers works in the office."

"So he supervises the work crews? And when CDOT periodically picks up trash from the sides of the highways, don't they leave it in trash bags to be collected later?" Elsbeth proposed.

"Special ones that can be seen by the truck drivers. Orange trash bags," agreed Bobby, then he looked thoughtful. "Of course, Katie Lynn will be upset."

"I know," Elsbeth said reluctantly. "She sounds so taken with him."

Alex sighed, but reminded them practically, "Better she finds out now than after she's really invested in the relationship."

Kaya set her hands on her hips, exasperated. "People! Someone...anyone..."

"Well, the Litchfield police will have to conduct their own investigation, of course, but–" began Alex.

Elsbeth shrugged. "We don't have jurisdiction here, after all."

"All we can do is give them the photos we took and the information we gathered, and let them draw their own conclusions," concluded Bobby, smiling at Kaya's frustrated expression. "Come on. We'll brief you as we walk to the ranger station."