He was young - maybe twenty or so - and he must once have been a good-looking kid. Kinsey could see that. But now his body was covered in scars, his face half-collapsed. For three weeks Kinsey had watched him silently and doggedly working out at the local gym. Then he approached her with his story: a murderous assault on a rural road, a 400-foot plunge into the canyon below, his Porsche a ruin, his best friend dead. But why?