Anyway, after the camera lingers on Pool Guy's scraped feet -- with the blood still present -- Delko compresses the guy's chest a few times and concludes, "I don't think he drowned. There's no foam around his nostrils or his mouth. Means there's no water in his lungs." Calleigh notes the foot scratches and bruises on the guy's arms, and concludes that he might have been beaten. Delko adds, "Wasted too. Check out the tag on his trunks. On backwards." Calleigh concludes, "Something's not right. We should get an autopsy." Oh, should they? And here I thought all unexplained deaths got autopsies anyway.

And now -- the VIP room. The girl's on the slab, Alexx is preparing to rinse her off, and Horatio's doing her hair. He finds a sparkly star barrette and asks, "Still a little girl, isn't she?" Or one of those annoying ravers with the kiddie culture couture. Alexx then summons Horatio to check out the tooth marks on the girl's body -- "At least six sets, avulsed. Most dramatic type. Bites like this don't just happen." By the way, an avulsed wound is one in which the tissue is forcibly separated or torn from the victim's body, so we're supposed to infer that the bite marks here are particularly deep and vicious. Horatio concludes that they've got a predator, and says, "Let's see if he had a history." Alexx will swab for saliva and semen to see if there's anything for CODIS. Horatio will call the forensic odontologist.

Outside the VIP room, there's a party on the beach and everyone's invited! As Speedle digs alone -- so much for that vaunted "we" Horatio was flinging about -- we see a tequila booth about to go up, with giant bottles being inflated under a gaudy yellow tent. Speedle digs, and then some tequila shill clad in a company shirt and khakis is sprinting toward him. He stops at the tape and shouts, "Buddy! You want to get this moving?" Speedle unbends from his hunched position with a look that clearly says, I didn't get enough coffee this morning and you, buddy, are going to pay. The khaki-wearing tool says, "Hey! Ted Zink, Matraca Tequila. You're in my party area." Speedle asks, faintly and incredulously, "Your what?" Ted explains, "We're hosting a big event for the Greeks. Part of our spring break marketing package: Lauderdale, Daytona, Miami Beach. We take the party wherever the kids are. You know, you hook 'em young, they're yours for life." Speedle is unimpressed by this guy's clever marketing strategy, and says testily, "Sir, can you read the yellow tape there? It says 'crime scene.'" Ted is unfazed: "Hey, I got a permit to be here." Ted is very stupid, because if he were half the marketing weasel he thinks he is, he'd realize that one surefire way to get a facile and fickle market turned off is by obstructing a spring-break murder scene. Speedle says sarcastically, "Ohhhhh. A permit!" Ted's basking in the glow of righteous stupidity: "Yeah, that's right. From Parks and Rec." Speedle wanders on over to the corner where Ted's nodding his head, pulls out his cell phone, and begins punching numbers as he says, "Well, I'm going to let you tell that to the parents of the girl who got murdered here last night." Somewhere in the primordial recesses of Ted the Marketing Weasel's brain, a survival instinct flares up, and he realizes he's walking into a Bad Idea trap.