Splattered on the courtyard were the remains of the high-diving Lone Star cop. The half-light turned the bloody stain around the body to inky black, but there was no mistaking the shattered helmet, jacket with striped epaulets, khaki jodhpurs, and biker boots. If Tiger hadn’t already known what the guy who took the header was wearing, the two dozen Lone Star cops staring in shock at the body would be due enough to piece together his identity on the fly.