Deadly Relations (6 page)

They raced across the park’s suspension bridge, then entered the muddy trail at a fast walk. The area was quiet, with only the sound of rain drops hitting the leaves of the tall trees and pelting the hoods of their yellow, sheriff-issued rain slickers. Dick’s feet skidded as they hit a curve in the path too fast, but he regained his balance and moved forward. They’d reached the steep hill that led to the Ice Cave, when Jennifer slid in the mud, lost her balance, and fell face-first down the hill. She struggled to fasten onto something to break her fall. She latched onto a sapling for a second, lost her grip and slid the rest of the way on her stomach until she landed at the bottom. Dick rushed down the hill as quickly as he could in the slippery mud to pull Jennifer to her feet.

She was covered with muck that clung to her face and hands, and soaked her pants and shoes. Trying to clean herself off, Jennifer wiped her muddy hands on a scarf she’d pulled out of her pocket. She turned away from Dick, not wanting him to see she was hurting from the fall, as well as the scratches and cuts that covered her face and hands. Dick turned her around and wiped at the mud on her face.

“
I’m fine, Dick. Stop hovering. We’re close to the cave, let’s keep going.”

They’d gone only ten feet or so, when Jennifer saw five Cub Scouts huddled like frightened baby ducks around their wide-eyed troop leader. Several feet from them was the conservation officer she assumed called in the body. Then she saw her, a young woman lying on her back with her arms folded across her breasts, her hands pressed together as though she were praying. The rain ran rivulets down her naked body; her eyes were open, cloudy and opaque, blankly staring into space. Her face was swollen and her body had a purplish cast, but it was Catherine Thomas.

Bile rushed to Jennifer’s throat and she swallowed hard. She tried to blink away the quick tears forming in her eyes, reminding herself that she was a professional. This was not the time to get emotional. She could do that later, when she was alone. She had to stay in control so she could secure the scene. Jennifer knew that t
race evidence was critically important as it could definitively link an individual or object to the crime or accident scene. Since the body was uncovered, the rain was washing critical trace evidence away.

Suddenly Jennifer became so enraged she shook with anger as she screamed at the conservation officer, “Where the hell were you when they did the training on crime scene preservation? You couldn’t fucking cover the body?! Gee, do you think the rain might be washing away valuable trace evidence?! And why the hell haven’t you moved the Cub Scouts and leader away from the scene!”

The conservation officer just looked at her with a blank expression, which had the effect of pouring gasoline on her anger. She jerked off her rain slicker and carefully laid it across the top of Catherine’s body. Dick Mason removed his, and she placed it over the bottom half. The conservation officer, hands in his pockets, watched them closely, but didn’t move or say anything.

Jennifer yanked her cell phone out of her pocket and called Lane Hansen. “I need back up at Deer Run State Park. We have a body here.”

“
Shit, is it Catherine Thomas?”

“
Yes, Lane. I think it is.”

“
I’m on my way. What do you need?”

“
Dick and I are the first responders. We need the coroner and crime scene techs. It’s vital that we get a deputy ASAP at the Ice Cave on trail number ten to secure the scene. The crime scene has already been compromised by the rain, Cub Scouts and who knows what else. We need to make sure it’s secured before anything else happens. We also need a deputy at the park entrance to prevent anyone from entering. This deputy needs to get ID, addresses, and phone numbers from anyone leaving the park. Our killer may still be here.”

“
I’ll give Blake Stone a heads up. He should be there any minute.”

<><><>

Blake Stone appeared and quickly assessed the situation. He turned to the two deputies following him, “Take the Cub Scouts and leader away from the scene, back to the parking lot. Get the leader’s statement, then find out why the hell she had these kids out here in this rain. Then get the Cub Scouts’ names and phone numbers, and find their parents to pick them up. We can call them in later to make a statement with their parents present. Make a call to Pat Brown, our victim’s advocate counselor. Those kids are going to need to talk to someone.”

Dick pulled the conservation officer aside. They walked several feet away. Jennifer couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the ranger waved his hands as he talked as if he were angry. Dick was trying to calm him down, but soon the ranger pushed at Dick and stomped up the trail. “I’ll get his statement,” Dick called to Jennifer as he ran after the ranger.

Blake touched Jennifer’s arm, “Is it Catherine?”

When she nodded, Blake pulled back the rain slicker covering Catherine’s face. A drop of rain hit Catherine’s eye and as if it were a tear streaming down her cheek. That’s when Jennifer lost it. She rushed into the woods, bent down and heaved until she lost the contents of her stomach. Catherine was dead. She’d never see the bright, young woman wait on her table again, or hear the excitement in her voice as she talked about going to the police academy.

Jennifer turned to see Blake at her side. He gently touched her back and she gravitated toward him. His strong arms encircled her like a warm blanket. She pulled him closer, melting against the warmth of his hard body. Nothing had felt that good for Jennifer in a long, long time. Something heated inside her as she breathed in his warm, male scent. They stood like that for a long moment, until Jennifer noticed the arrival of two crime scene technicians and a deputy who was putting up yellow crime scene tape. She gently pushed Blake away.

He brushed her hair out of her face to examine the cuts and scratches on her cheeks.

“
Jennifer, are you okay?”

“
Yes, I am so sorry about that. I’m a professional. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“
You’re a professional, but you’re human first.” He walked her back to the crime scene.

Bob Goldberg pulled out his camera and walked the perimeter, taking photographs of various aspects of the crime scene. There was no such thing as taking too many photos, as they’d learned the hard way during a past case. He approached Catherine’s body and took photos of various angles as he got closer and closer to her.

Karen Katz, with her hands in her pockets, also walked the perimeter looking for anything, no matter how small, that might be connected to the crime. She walked past Jennifer and Blake and said, “This is the secondary crime scene. She was killed somewhere else and dumped here.” She walked back to the body, lowering herself to her knees as she looked at Catherine’s face and neck.

“
So how’d she die, Karen?” Jennifer asked as she wiped a wet strand of hair from her eyes.

“
Did you see her neck?” She motioned for them to come closer. “See the deep grooves and bruising around her neck? I’d bet my next paycheck she was strangled with some kind of ligature. Doc Meade may even be able to tell you what type he used.”

“
What about time of death?” asked Blake.

“
This is only a guesstimate. The doc has the final word on that. But judging by the stiffness or rigor mortis of the body, I’d say eight to twelve hours ago.” She paused and looked at her watch. “It’s 9:00 a.m., so that puts it between 9:00 p.m. last night and 1:00 a.m. this morning. Keep in mind, the rain and cold weather slows down the process. It’s forty damn degrees today so my estimate could be off a bit. But, like I said, Doc Meade has the final say on time of death.”

“
I heard my name.” Doc Meade appeared with two of his assistants. Jennifer had known Doc Meade through her dad since she was a child. The good old country boy demeanor hid a brilliant coroner who had helped solve too many cases to count. “Jesus Christ, that’s Catherine Thomas. Isn’t it?”

Jennifer nodded and shuddered as a chill ran up her spine. She crossed her arms to warm herself. She was freezing. The dampness of her clothes felt like it was seeping into her very soul.

“
I was still hoping we’d find her alive,” Doc Meade said. “Damn it. I watched that girl grow up. She and her parents never missed a Sunday at church. Once she was old enough, Catherine sang in the choir. And that girl could sing.”

He left them to do a precursory exam of Catherine’s body, asking his two assistants to carefully move her body onto the body bag, so the two crime scene techs could examine the ground underneath.

“
Wait a minute! Turn her over,” shouted Doc Meade. It was obvious that the coroner had noticed something. They gently turned the body over. There were severe bruises, abrasions and lacerations on Catherine’s buttocks, back and thighs. “The sick bastard beat her with something. Christ, he tortured her. This poor girl suffered before she died.”

Jennifer watched as the two assistants moved Catherine into a body bag. They placed the body on the stretcher they’d carry to the parking lot, where the coroner van was parked.

Following them, Doc Meade looked back and asked, “Are both of you going to attend the autopsy? I’ll start at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

<><><>

Blake looked at Jennifer and said, “It took a lot of rage to beat a woman like that.”

“
Which makes me wonder if this was personal? Did the killer know Catherine?” Jennifer asked.

“
Another angle is that he has hostility toward all women, and took that out on her.”

“
He posed the body, Blake,” Jennifer said. “He made her look as if she were praying. Are we dealing with a religious fanatic? Or is the killer trying to communicate something to us?”

“
Maybe he’s telling us that at the end she prayed for her death?”

Jennifer shrugged her shoulders. “Why pose her naked body out in the open?”

“
Because he knew she’d be found. The bastard thinks he’s smarter than we are, and he’s pretty sure he’s not going to be caught. I think he wanted us to find her.”

“
Do you think he’s done this before?”

“
I don’t know, but I can promise you that we’re going to find out.” Blake paused, knelt down and sniffed where the body had laid. “Now I know what that smell is.”

“
What?”

“
Bleach. I think he bleached down her body. That tells us the sick freak know something about trace evidence.”

“
You think he’s in law enforcement?”

“
Maybe. Or it could be he’s a big fan of forensic TV shows.”

“
Do you think Karen was right when she said Catherine was killed somewhere else?”

“
The damn rain makes it difficult to say. But my guess is that Karen’s right and she was killed somewhere else and dumped here.”

“
Thanks to the dumbass in the conservation officer suit, the scene’s been compromised.”

“
Yeah, but I still say she was dumped. No sign of a struggle. The rain wouldn’t have washed away everything.”

Jennifer stared at Blake. What kind of monster were they up against?

<><><>

There was no let up with the drenching rain as they hiked trail number ten back to the entrance and then the parking lot.

When they reached Blake’s SUV, he looked down at Jennifer, and rubbed his thumb across a streak of mud on her cheekbone. “How about if I take you home so you can wash up and change clothes?”

Jennifer didn’t answer right away. She was thinking about how good it felt to be in his arms. She wondered how it would feel if he kissed her. Was she insane? The last thing she needed right now was to get involved with another investigator. This might be the biggest case of her career. Did she want to jeopardize it by getting emotionally tangled with Blake?

“
I see my partner waiting for me.” She walked away, heading toward the vehicle where Dick sat inside.

<><><>

At first Blake thought he imagined it, but no, it was fear that crossed Jennifer’s face when he’d asked to take her home. What the hell? He’d worked with her every day since she’d joined the department. Then it hit him. She had feelings for him and it scared the crap out of her. Feelings that made things a lot more complicated — for both of them.

<><><>

Jennifer got into the passenger side of vehicle, and Dick handed her a towel. She wiped at her face and hair as he drove through the parking lot and onto Route 40 toward town.

What was wrong with her? Why didn’t she let Blake take her home? Stupid question. The man radiated testosterone and she’d been going through some serious withdrawal. Try five years of withdrawal. A man hadn’t affected her like this since she’d first fallen for Paul. Every time Blake came near her, her senses went on alert and her body reacted — whether she wanted it to or not. Besides jeopardizing the case, she reminded herself she was the sheriff’s daughter and Blake was on her team. Several good reasons she should distance herself from the sexy detective.

<><><>

Something was wrong with Dick. The two of them had driven ten minutes without Dick saying a word. In other cases they’d worked, he couldn’t wait to compare notes with Jennifer and debate theories about the crime. His jaw clenched, he stiffly sat behind the steering wheel.