Karl Alberg was a big-city cop, for Pete’s sake. He solved crimes involving gangsters, druglords, real hardened criminals. He couldn’t possibly be stumped by a murder in the sweet coastal town of Sechelt, British Colombia. Yet here he is, facing one of the most gruesome and baffling murders of his career.

The woman was found propped against a tree, her face scrubbed clean, and her neck slit from one side to the other. And that is all anyone can tell Alberg. Her name? No one knows. So Alberg hires a local artist to draw her picture; maybe someone will recognize her . . . without, you know, the sliced-up neck. It’s a brilliant idea. The answers pour in. And they all point to one suspect, which should make Alberg very happy. Except that the individual requiring Alberg’s professional focus is the last person he wants to think about.