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told Paul, knowing from the pool of blood soaking into the carpet that the girl had not been moved. He crouched down by the body, resting his hands on his knees so that he wouldn't accidentally touch anything. Emma's shorts were bunched around one ankle, her feet bare. Her underwear and shirt had been yanked out of the way by her attacker. Teeth marks showed dark red against the white of her breasts. Scrapes and bruises trailed up the insides of her thighs, swollen welts showing the damage that had been done. She was thin, with shoulder-length blond hair like her mother and broad shoulders like her dad. There was no telling what she had looked like in life. Her face was beaten so severely that the skull had collapsed on itself, obscuring the eyes, the nose. The only point of reference was the mouth, which gaped open in a toothless, bloody hole.
    Will checked on Paul. The man still stood frozen at the top of the stairs. His big, meaty hands were clasped in front of his chest like a nervous old woman waiting for bad news. Will didn't know what exactly he could see, if the distance softened some of the violence or made it worse.
    Will told him, "She was beaten. I can see what looks like two knife wounds. One's just below her breast. The other is above her belly button."
    "She got it pierced last year." Paul gave a strained laugh. Will looked back at him and Paul took this as a sign to continue. "She and her best friend went to Florida and came back with…" He shook his head. "You think shit like that's funny when you're a kid, but when you're a parent and your daughter comes home with a ring in her belly…" His face crumpled as he fought emotions.
    Will turned his attention back to the girl. There was a silver ring looped through the skin of her belly button.
    Paul asked, "Was she raped?"
    "Probably." He'd said the word too fast. The sound hung in the stagnant air.
    "Before or after?" Paul's voice shook. He was more than familiar with the dark deeds men were capable of.
    The blood on her abdomen and chest was smeared, indicating someone had lain on top of her after the worst of the beating was over. Still, Will told him, "The coroner will have to answer that. I can't tell."
    "Are you lying to me?"
    "No," Will answered, trying not to look at the handprint, to let the guilt eat him up inside so that he ended up being the one to tell this man the horrible truth about his daughter's violent, degrading death.
    Suddenly he felt Paul behind him.
    Will stood, blocking him. "This is a crime scene. You need to-"
    Paul's mouth dropped open. He slumped against Will like all the air had left his body. "It's not…" His mouth worked, tears welling into his eyes. "It's not her."
    Will tried to turn the man away from the sight of his daughter. "Let's go downstairs. You don't need to see any more of this."
    "No," Paul countered, his fingers digging into Will's arm. "I mean it. It's not her." He shook his head back and forth, vehement. "It's not Emma."
    "I know this is hard for you."
    "Fuck you, with what you know!" Paul pushed himself away from Will. "Has anybody ever told you that your daughter is dead?" He kept shaking his head, staring at the girl. "That's not her."
    Will tried to reason with him. "Her navel is pierced like you said."
    He shook his head, his words choking in his throat. "It's not-"
    "Come on," Will coaxed, pushing him back a few steps, trying to keep him from contaminating the scene any more than he already had.
    Paul's words came out in an almost giddy rush. "Her hair, Trash. Emma's got longer hair than that. It goes down to her back almost. And she's got a birthmark on her right arm-Emma does. Look, there's nothing there. There's no birthmark."
    Will checked the arm. Except for the blood, the skin was a perfect white.
    "Right arm," Paul insisted, annoyed. He pointed to the other arm "She's got a birthmark." When Will did not respond, he took out his wallet. Receipts and papers fell onto the floor as he dug around inside.