"So what'd you get from the audio?" Peters asked Friedman as they were driving.

"Well, there were too many sounds blended together, to get a make or model on any one type of machinery, but, they figured it to be industrial, too big for personal tools. After comparing to different industries with large machinery, they have it narrowed down to either logging equipment, some kind of mill, maybe, or a construction site using large machines."

Peters thought about that, it made sense. "Yeah, got it, a place where there is enough noise and activity, the screams of a child would be drowned out. And, you know what, that jibes with something Trina said. She described a semi with a long flat bed. That could be used for hauling trees or hauling construction vehicles, like a backhoe, or a skip loader, those kind of things."

Friedman agreed. It left a long list of places to go through, but it was a start. There were several large construction projects around, lots of development. On the other hand, there were about four major logging companies within an hour's drive. They decided they would put together a list of possibles, when they got back to the station.

Peters and Friedman pulled up to Lemonwood's morgue. They walked in, showed their badges, and as they were about to ask for Detective Normandy, Lee Denver came out to the waiting area, and lead them back. His dark skin was now three shades lighter. Shock was on his face. When they got back to the viewing room, Denver paled even more.

"I thought I was going to be okay, I mean I have seen some awful sh**. But...this... it's too much." He shook his head, trying to maintain his composure. "I'm going to wait out there, Normandy promised to fill me in on what they find."

Peters opened the curtains to the window that overlooked the autopsy tables, and he turned on the TV in the upper right corner. The TV showed a close-up view of Autopsy Table 3, currently empty. Minutes later, a technician wheeled in a body, covered with a sheet. He was followed by the Coroner, who was clothed in a full-body protection suit, looking like an exterminator. He was wearing a surgical mask over his mouth and nose, and a plastic shield came down from his head to shield his eyes and face from splatter.

The Coroner was accompanied by Detective Oliver Normandy who was wearing a navy blue sports jacket and tan chinos. He had a mask on over his nose and mouth, as well. The Coroner helped the technician move the body from the cart to the table.

The sheet was removed to reveal a pale mix-raced teenager, who looked small and young. He had probably been about 5'7", and weighed maybe 130. Peters and Friedman turned their attention to the television screen. They heard the Coroner's voice as he began his initial examination, starting at the boy's head. As he spoke the camera zoomed in on the specific area mentioned.

"There appears to be some kind of dust in his hair, Manuel, get a sample of this." The technician came right over with an envelope, scraped some of the dust into the envelope, sealed it, and marked it.

"There are signs of sclera hemorrhage, and petechiae on the eyelids, as well as in the eyes. More petechiae over cheeks and neck. Single, deep ligature mark across the larynx, slightly upward angle, possibly garroted from behind, either assailant was much taller, or victim was sitting, and his attacker stood behind him. The ligature marks are deep, but wide, definitely not a wire, weapon could be a cable or electrical cord."

Peters and Friedman watched as the Coroner moved over every inch of that boy's body. There was a deep bruise on his chest, as well as one on his back near a kidney, and several of his toes were broken. Hands had been untouched, so maybe whatever they wanted him to do, he had to use his hands. There were no traces of fibers or skin particles under his nails. Very little to go on, except for the dust from his hair.

It had been about forty minutes just on the external exam. Temporary cause of death was listed as ligature strangulation. The Coroner asked the tech to clean the body, so he could begin the full autopsy.

Detective Normandy thanked him, took off his mask, and met Peters and Friedman in the hall. They all introduced themselves, and shook hands.

"Poor kid, tortured, he must have put up some kind of protest for them to do that much to him." Peters stated, sadly thinking about the pain inflicted on that young body.

"Yeah, no kidding. So, do you still think this might be connected to your kidnapping?"

"Yes, I think so. The kidnapping, was organized, and this sounds organized, too. And they certainly don't seem to mind using young children to get what they need. I don't think it was a one-man job. Perhaps they did find Williams to get into the files on the flash drive.

Together, all three went out to talk to Lee Denver. It was hard, like telling a parent about their dead child. As a rule, Probation Officers are supposed to stay detached, but it seems the ones that really cared, reached a lot more kids than the ones that didn't. Denver obviously cared a good deal for Williams, he was taking it hard.

"Tortured? I can't believe it, he was such a good kid. This is going to crush his grandmother." Friedman brought him a cup of water. "Thanks, I'll be fine. You know, I have seen some of my kids shot, or stabbed, couldn't get themselves away from the gang life. You would think it wouldn't be this hard, but, I don't know, I guess I just figured DJ was on the right track, and there was success in his future."

He shook his head, and they patted him on the shoulder.

"Would you like me to inform the grandmother?" Normandy offered.

"No, I need to do it. She knows me, trusts me. She has to hear it from me." Denver stood up with resolve, brushed off some invisible dust from his pants. "Thanks for calling me on this, I appreciate it." He shook Normandy's hand, and left.

"I'm gonna hang here, and wait for them to finish up the autopsy. I'll let you know if we find anything else." Normandy told Peters and Friedman. They thanked him and headed back to CPD.

June and Trina had stopped by the elementary school on their way home. June wanted to get some school work for Trina, it was the first week of first grade, she knew there wouldn't be much work, but she wanted to have something for Trina to work on, to occupy her mind. It would help June, too.

They were greeted with compassion and condolence from the staff in the office. The police department had contacted the school, during the investigation of the accident, and had been asked about Trina coming to school any time after Monday. The principal, Mrs. Killian, had Trina wait with the Office Manager, and took June into her office.

"I'm so glad to see Trina's okay. After the police called, and we found out she had been missing, it knocked us off our feet. I hadn't met your daughter, yet, but all of the kids here, they are my kids, too. I take that responsibility to heart. I just want you to know that this isn't just a job to me, that when I go home, everything stays here." Mrs. Killian held June's hand, and looked into her eyes. "No! It follows me home. My family, we prayed for your daughter."

"Thank you so much, I am beginning to believe that all those prayers delivered her, and brought her home. I am so grateful for your thoughts and your words for us, for Trina. I was hoping I could pick up some school work for Trina, I don't know when I will be ready for her to come back to school. She'll probably be ready sooner than I am," June half-smiled. "Anyway, I think the work will help us both take our minds off of things, and I can make sure she doesn't fall behind."

The principal patted June's hand that she had been holding, " Sure, no problem. How about I go ahead and set you up with the first two weeks worth of work, and we will go from there. I can only imagine how hard this all is for both of you, so please take as much time as you need. It has been my experience, though, that children can sometimes deal better with a trauma when they are around other kids, and they have the distraction of playing and learning. I'm sure you will recognize the signs in your daughter when she is ready to come back." Mrs. Killian was itching to ask what had happened to Trina, but, she knew it was inappropriate, and the family was hurting enough without others digging into their pain. She called Trina's teacher, Mrs. Deidopolis, and asked her for a packet of work for Trina.

"It will be just a few minutes, while we get that put together for you. It's just about time for recess, if you like you can take Trina out to the playground. We will have everything ready for you when you get back."

June thanked her again, and found Trina playing with some tongue depressors from the nurse's office. She asked Trina if she wanted to go play during recess, and Trina jumped off the chair, and practically ran toward the door.

June sat where the blacktop met the sanded area under the playground. She smiled as she watched Trina run and hug her friend, Shelly, and then as they ran off to play on the slides, the swings, and of course, the monkey bars. She hoped it wouldn't be too long, before they could start getting back to normal. Well, they would have to make a new normal, because their old normal was forever gone. After the fifteen minute recess, all the kids were shuffling back to their classes, and Trina and Shelly stayed locked together for an extra minute. Then, Shelly had to return to class. June took Trina's hand and they walked back to the office.

"Mommy, I want to stay and go to class." June looked down at her sweet daughter. She could see a little shimmer in her eyes.

"I know, honey, but not today. You need to stay home with me for a few more days." June didn't think she would be able to handle Trina back at school, yet. She couldn't stand the thought of something happening to her again. She kneeled on the ground in front of her. "Actually, honey, I need you to stay home with me. You are my Superwoman, right? And my Superwoman helps me feel better. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, mommy, I can help take care of you." June hugged her daughter, then stood up and they continued to the office. After getting the packet of work, they went home, and June took as many side roads as were necessary to avoid the site where Garrett had been killed. She simply could not face it, yet.