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       The uniformed man jumped at the sound of the voice, his eyes clearing from daydream to the here and now as he fumbled the clipboard in his hand.
       "Name?" He eyed the group suspiciously, taking in the strange mix with disapproval.
       "Harrison. Detective Harrison."
       The officer's expression quickly changed as recognition dawned, not even having to check the names on the clip board. Everyone at the site knew of Harrison's connection to the slaughter and they'd heard the rumours that he'd be arriving. Not that they'd believed them despite the name being at the very top of the list and authorised in triplicate. It was totally against procedure for Harrison to be involved, but strings must have been pulled and the orders were to give the Detective full access.
       "This way, Sir," the officer said, standing to one side. "If you'll please follow me."
       Harrison and the others entered and dropped into line behind the officer. Megan looked around as they headed towards the white tent that appeared to be their destination. She was amazed to see so much activity, the forest and lake front an organised miasma of equipment and search teams.
       "It's like being inside an episode of CSI." Peter nudged her in the ribs.
       "Show some respect," Megan replied, seeing Harrison look over his shoulder with distaste.
"I was only saying."
       "Well don't." Megan increased her pace and left Peter behind, starting to regret her decision to let him come along.
       Kaci hung back and watched Harrison closely. She knew him better than anyone and she could tell from his stance alone that he was not his usual self. His confident stature had been replaced with something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but it worried her that he wasn't the man she remembered. From the moment she'd held him in the hangar she'd known that any warmth or compassion he'd once had was now dead and it scared her.
       She'd seen every aspect of Harrison during their short lived affair, but it was as if all of that had been washed away. She feared that all he had left was an emotionless, empty shell. It also made her sad because, despite everything, she still loved him.

Seventeen

       Harrison entered the tent alone, the uniformed officer telling the others to wait outside. He pushed the entrance flap to one side and immediately saw the figure standing on the far side. Harrison could only see his back as he studied the makeshift wall filled with photos and notes, but he knew who it was without them facing him.
       "Burke," Harrison sighed.
       "Harrison," the man replied. "I'm not going to hide the fact that I'm unhappy about your presence here."
       "You don't have to like it." Harrison crossed the artificial room and joined Burke, casting his gaze over everything collected by the team so far.
       "But, for what it's worth, I'm sorry." Burke finally turned to face Harrison. "No one deserves this shit."
       "What have you got so far?" Harrison ignored the condolences.
       "You're guess is as good as mine." Burke left the wall and headed towards an urn on his desk. "Coffee?"
       "You must have found some leads," Harrison pushed. "What happened here?"
"You saw the bodies." Burke glared. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Neither had I."
       "I don't mean that." Burke poured two cups and handed one to Harrison. "I've been here almost two days and we've found nothing."
       "What do you mean, nothing?" Harrison begrudgingly took the cup.
       "Just that." Burke shook his head. "We've had teams working around the clock and they've come up with fuck all."
       "Impossible."
       "I've been staring at that wall for over an hour trying to see something we may have missed," Burke stated. "No tracks, no murder weapon, no fingerprints, no DNA, absolutely fuck all."
       "Check again."
       "What do you think all the activity out there is?" Burke shouted. "It's not a fucking tea party."
       "Maybe I can help," Harrison felt some satisfaction at getting his old mentor to bite.
       "You got a crystal ball?" asked Burke with a sneer.
       "No, but I've brought someone who might give us a new direction."
       "What the fuck are you talking about?"
       "There's a chance it could be an animal attack," Harrison explained, keeping his stare straight on Burke.
       "Then where's the tracks?"
"That's why I brought my guest along." Harrison sipped at the bitter coffee.
       Harrison waited whilst Burke thought it over, never once considering the notion of telling him the truth. Burke would have Harrison carted away if he showed him the journal and confided in him. He could only hope that the animal attack theory could keep him on site long enough to nose around himself.
       Burke looked at Harrison over the top of his cup as he downed the coffee in three mouthfuls. He didn't want Harrison anywhere near the site, it went against every rule. But he had to consider every viable option. Eventually Burke lowered the cup and nodded.
       "Animal attack," Burke mused. "And who's this guest?"
       "Her name's Megan Grant," Harrison said. "And what she doesn't know about wild animals isn't worth knowing.
       "OK. I'm willing to try anything at this point," conceded Burke. "Call her in."
       Harrison made his way over to the exit and pulled back the flap of canvas that acted as a door and looked around; locating Megan crouched down next to a member of the search team.
       "Megan," Harrison called and she looked up from whatever had caught her interest. "I want you to meet someone." He waved her over.
       Megan got to her feet and jogged over to the tent, pausing only to give the uniformed officer who had led them over a cheeky wink. Her good humour quickly faded as she stepped inside, instantly reminded of why they were there.
"Miss Grant, my name is Burke," the casually dressed man held out a hand. "Detective Harrison tells me that you can help us."
       "I'm not sure how much help I'll be." Megan shook Burke's hand. "But I'm here to do what I can."
       "That's all I can ask of anyone in a situation like this."
       Megan released Burke's hand and walked straight over to the wall of evidence. She didn't need reminding of the wounds that had covered the victim's bodies, they were ingrained on her mind.
       "I understand you think it might be an animal attack," said Burke from behind Megan.
       "Maybe," she replied carefully looking at pictures of the area.
       "Could you enlighten me?"
       Megan pulled herself away from the wall and returned to the centre of the tented office. She pulled the bag strap over her shoulder and unclipped the clasp, pulling out a ream of photographs she had taken whilst still at the morgue. She spread them out across the table and began to explain.
       "These are clearly bite marks, as I told Harrison." She pointed to the first group of pictures, picking one out and holding it up. "From what I can see whatever attacked the family wasn't all human." She ran a finger around the edge of the wound she was describing.
       "What exactly does that mean?" Burke asked, confused.
"You see here." Megan highlighted the upper area of the bite mark. "These are deep gouges, left by long canine-like fangs." She moved her finger to the lower section of the wound. "But here we have indentations left by what look like standard molars."
       "What are you trying to tell me, Miss Grant?" Burke took the photograph and studied it.
       "If it was an animal attack then it's nothing on record and I want to find it."
       "You're not the only one," whispered Harrison, resting a hand on the book inside his jacket.

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