Detective Captain Jeff Gardner of the Horicon County, Wisconsin Sheriff's Department had just finished washing and waxing his six year old blue Chevy when he heard the phone's insistent ringing. The forty-two year old detective mopped his sweaty underarms and chest with his gray sleeveless t-shirt, ran the shirt over his curly brown hair, and sprinted across the garage and up the two steps leading to the kitchen of his two story colonial home.

It was twelve-thirty on a steamy Saturday afternoon in mid-June. Gardner had tried to bribe one of his sons into washing the car, but they'd both refused to bite. Sixteen year old Alex stooped to helping with car related chores when he wanted to borrow one of the family's vehicles, but otherwise his time was pretty well consumed with his summer job stocking shelves at a local grocery store and thinking about girls. Fourteen year old Bill's passions were his junior high baseball team, of which he was the captain, and loud music and since he was still two years away from being able to get a driver's license, cars didn't hold that much attraction for him.

Gardner's wife Julie had left the house at dawn to report for her job as a nurse in the intensive care ward of the local hospital. Gardner had the day off and, finding himself home alone by mid morning, he had decided to polish off a few odd jobs before the heat got any worse. Having completed all of them, he was looking forward to taking a quick shower and spending the remainder of the afternoon vegged out in front of the TV with a couple of beers. In his gut he was afraid that the phone call would shoot that idea all to hell.

Crossing the kitchen with long strides, Gardner reached the phone and snatched up the receiver, the sweaty t-shirt still clutched in his right hand. "Gardner," he barked.

"Afternoon, Jeff," the mellow voice of Andy Young, the Sheriff's Department dispatcher, came over the line. "They found a body over in Oakwood Hills about a half hour ago. Thought you'd want to know about it."

The t-shirt fell to the floor. Gardner had been expecting the call. Over the past five days Oakwood Hills had been the scene of the largest manhunt in the county's history. Gardner himself had put in thirty hours overtime and had volunteered to work today as well, but the sheriff had told him to rest up for the larger investigation to come.

After the first forty-eight hours had passed with no sign of the missing person, everyone in the department tacitly acknowledged they were probably dealing with a homicide, and if that assumption proved to be true, as the senior detective on the force, Gardner would be in charge of the case. Of course, until there was official word to the contrary, there was always a thread of hope, albeit slender, that the outcome of the search might be a happy one. As the call from dispatch had proved, the only place you could be assured of happy endings these days was in fairy tales. Score another one for the bad guys, Gardner thought grimly. "Thanks for the call, Andy. I'm on my way."

Gardner hurriedly showered, changed into clean clothes and fired up the Chevy for the twelve mile drive west to the site where the body had been found. Thirty minutes after getting the call from dispatch, he was at the scene reciting his impressions into a handheld dictaphone. "The body of a well-nourished white male caucasian child was discovered at twelve hundred hours on Saturday, June 15 by Deputy Ronald Hasslett of the Horicon County, Wisconsin Sheriff's Department, with special assistance from K-9 Corps Officer Lady."

Gardner flicked his thumb down over the dictaphone's on/off switch and fought to control the strong emotions that engulfed him at the sight of this tiny corpse. After taking a couple of deep breaths, he switched the recorder on again and continued his narrative.

"The body was buried in a shallow grave in a heavily wooded area located in the northeast quadrant of the Village of Oakwood. The child had reddish blonde hair, was approximately thirty-eight inches tall, weighed about thirty-five pounds, and appears to have been about four years of age." Gardner paused again, then went on.

"The body shows marked signs of decomposition, consistent with the combined effects of the burial and the heavy rains and extreme heat of the past few days. There is massive trauma to the back of the head and large amounts of blood loss, leading to the conclusion that death was the result of a skull fracture. The body is fully clothed, and there are no outward signs of sexual molestation."

"Thank God for small favors. At least it doesn't look like a pervert got him."

Gardner again halted the dictaphone and turned to face the approaching bulky figure who had interrupted his soliloquy. "That's not much consolation in a case like this," Gardner said bitterly, "but I guess it's something." He had regained his composure now and was just damn angry that such a crime had occurred in his jurisdiction.

"Hell, yes," Sheriff Dan Isaacson's deep bass boomed out. "Believe me, the boy's daddy will take great comfort in it." The sheriff's voice held just a hint of a southern drawl, which Gardner had always suspected must be contrived, since as far as he knew his boss had never ventured south of Bloomington, Illinois in his whole life.

"If you say so," Gardner replied, squinting up at the man mountain who now stood two paces away. Gardner was six feet tall, but next to the sheriff he looked like a choir boy. He glanced back at the small body, surrounded now by a buzzing mass of humanity: a full complement of deputies, forensics personnel, photographers, two members of the county medical examiner's staff, all measuring, probing, sifting and cataloging the little boy's resting place and his remains.

The sheriff removed a red handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his brow. "Christ almighty! This heat is sure oppressive. I was hopin' that rain would cool things off some."

"Guess we're just in for one of those summers," Gardner replied.

"Guess so." The sheriff motioned to where Deputy Hasslett was standing, talking animatedly to another officer. His German shepherd tracking dog, Lady, sat quietly beside him, panting from the heat but otherwise unaware of the excitement her find had caused. "That damn dog's turning out to be quite a hero, ain't she? This is the second find she's made this year." Several months earlier, Hasslett and Lady had helped locate a five year old deaf child who had wandered away from home.

Gardner nodded. "Yeah. She's sure earned her keep for this month. You'd better go buy her a great big juicy steak for a reward."

"I just might do that." The sheriff took a step forward and put his hand on Gardner's shoulder. "Say, Jeff, I don't suppose there's any way I could impose on you to go break the news to the boy's father?"

Gardner shook off the hand as though it contained an electrical charge. "Shit no!" he exclaimed. "Bereavement calls aren't in my job description. Besides, Dan," he added with just the hint of a smirk, "every now and then you've got to do something to justify the big raises you talk the county board into giving you every time you get yourself re-elected."

The sheriff squinted against the sun, his dark eyes narrowing to little slits in his round face. "Would you maybe consider changing your mind if there was fifty bucks in it?" he cajoled.

"I wouldn't change my mind if you offered me five hundred bucks," Gardner shot back. "So you'd best haul your sorry ass back to your car and get it over with. I want to nose around here a little more, but I'll meet you back at the department later this afternoon to give you my quick and dirty impressions and my thoughts on what we ought to do next."

"All right," the sheriff said grudgingly as he turned to go. "I'm on my way. But I'll be honest with you. I'd sooner take a beating than have to pull this kind of duty."

As Gardner watched the sheriff make his way through the trees back toward the road, he nodded to himself. He was sure as hell glad he wouldn't have to be the one to inform Oakwood's most prominent citizen that his only child was dead.