Chapter One
Thursday, August 15
Like most days in the park service, Chris Becker was driving. Everyone thought rangers walked all day in the woods and led some kind of idyllic outdoor existence, but in truth most of their work was done from offices or their pick-ups and jeeps. Time and staffing levels just didn’t permit wandering in the woods and talking to the animals. Still, the view of the scrubby chaparral grading gradually into pine and oak forest had its perks.
The sun broiled in through the open window and foretold another hot day in San Diego County. The day was clear, and he rolled the window lower to let the air cool him. His blond hair was long enough to tangle in the wind, and it reminded him that he should get a haircut. Long haired rangers were in fashion in the 70’s and 80’s, but the appeal with the current administration was fading fast. He was lucky he could keep his moustache and beard. Most police agencies frowned on such personal statements of style.
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“It’s not pretty” Eric said. He was sweating heavily, and Becker suspected it was more shock than heat. Looking closer at the young man, Chris thought Eric was probably a bit nauseated, too. “The guy’s a real mess. I marked my path line to him when I checked for signs of life. Here, I pulled his wallet and wrote down his name and other info for you. I put it back in the jacket pocket where I found it. Other than that, I put tape across the far side of the scene about 100 feet away and then just backed out the same path I took and came back here to keep anyone out. The other end of the trail still needs to be secured. He’s thoroughly dead, and Chief, there’s lots of blood, but from what I could see it looks like puncture marks on his neck. It’s not sliced or stabbed.”
Val interrupted, “What do you mean, like bullets or an ice pick?”
“Nope. Like a bite mark.”
Like most days in the park service, Chris Becker was driving. Everyone thought rangers walked all day in the woods and led some kind of idyllic outdoor existence, but in truth most of their work was done from offices or their pick-ups and jeeps. Time and staffing levels just didn’t permit wandering in the woods and talking to the animals. Still, the view of the scrubby chaparral grading gradually into pine and oak forest had its perks.
The sun broiled in through the open window and foretold another hot day in San Diego County. The day was clear, and he rolled the window lower to let the air cool him. His blond hair was long enough to tangle in the wind, and it reminded him that he should get a haircut. Long haired rangers were in fashion in the 70’s and 80’s, but the appeal with the current administration was fading fast. He was lucky he could keep his moustache and beard. Most police agencies frowned on such personal statements of style.
__________________________________________________
“It’s not pretty” Eric said. He was sweating heavily, and Becker suspected it was more shock than heat. Looking closer at the young man, Chris thought Eric was probably a bit nauseated, too. “The guy’s a real mess. I marked my path line to him when I checked for signs of life. Here, I pulled his wallet and wrote down his name and other info for you. I put it back in the jacket pocket where I found it. Other than that, I put tape across the far side of the scene about 100 feet away and then just backed out the same path I took and came back here to keep anyone out. The other end of the trail still needs to be secured. He’s thoroughly dead, and Chief, there’s lots of blood, but from what I could see it looks like puncture marks on his neck. It’s not sliced or stabbed.”
Val interrupted, “What do you mean, like bullets or an ice pick?”
“Nope. Like a bite mark.”