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other hand, is to dig a body out of mud.”
    Teffinger nodded.
    Then said, “Two bodies.”
    Kwak looked confused.
    â€œTwo?”
    â€œWell, maybe two,” Teffinger corrected himself. “We’re going to check the other hole too.”
    â€œYou think …?”
    Teffinger held his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know. But we’re going to find out. I’m hoping not.”
    In the first hole they did in fact find a body—a body without a head.
    Then they checked the second hole.
    And found another body.
    The fourth.
    A woman.
    Her eyes were gouged out.
    Kwak looked at Teffinger. “I hate it when you’re right.”
    â€œMe too,” Teffinger said.
    â€œGood thing it doesn’t happen that often,” Kwak added.
    Teffinger nodded. “See if you can find her eyes,” he said. “If you can’t, get some kind of sifter out here and go through every inch of dirt. In fact, do that anyway, for both gravesites. Find whatever it is we haven’t found so far.”
    Teffinger pulled Sydney to the side. “We need to find out who made that call last night. She knows something we don’t. Dispatch told me it came from a payphone. What I need you to do is check with them and find out which one, then go down there and see if there are any security cameras around that might help.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “That’s top priority.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œEven topper than top.”

20
    DAY FOUR–SEPTEMBER 8
    THURSDAY MORNING
    O n Thursday morning, Aspen’s fourth day of work, every attorney in the firm must have found out that she existed, because they paraded through her door with big smiles on their faces and dropped files on her desk.
    â€œIt’s called getting rid of your dogs,” Christina Tam warned. “Everyone’s dumping their crap on you, either because the client’s a no-pay or a slow-pay, or because they finally figured out the case is a loser. The end result is that you’ll work tons of hours but won’t bring any money through the door. That’s not good. No matter what anyone tells you, this firm is driven by the bottom line, so the sooner you learn to say no, the better off you’re going to be.”
    More work landed on her desk.
    More dogs.
    Dogs with fleas.
    She didn’t say no, though, not wanting to burn bridges. So instead she smiled and said thanks for the work.
    Then Christina walked in shortly before noon. “Want to get some lunch?”
    Aspen couldn’t afford it.
    Not with only $82 in her account.
    But couldn’t afford to not have friends, either.
    â€œGreat,” she said.
    They milled through the crowd down the 16th Street Mall under a perfect Colorado sky and ended up at the Hard Rock Café, eating salads at the bar.
    â€œSo what’s the scoop with Jacqueline Moore?” Aspen asked at one point.
    â€œCruella?” Christina asked. “Don’t even think anything bad about her. She has radar. And definitely don’t cross swords with her. She’ll gut you like a fish.”
    Aspen frowned.
    â€œI may have already done that.”
    â€œAlready?” Christina said, slapping Aspen on the back. “Congratulations girl, that’s a new law firm record.”
    â€œLucky me.”
    â€œWhy, what’d you do?”
    Aspen explained about how she contacted Dr. Beverly Twenhofel and then got a tongue-lashing from Moore, after which Christina said, “Yeah, you’re on her short list, all right. If I were you, I’d snuggle up to Blake Gray. He’s the only known antidote to Cruella.”
    Aspen chewed.
    â€œWhat’s the scoop with him?”
    â€œBlake?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œHe’s a good guy.”
    â€œHe seems like a good guy,” she said. “He took me to lunch and told me his door’s always open.”
    â€œIt is,” Christina