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Jax stayed quiet.
Rayland set the duffel bag on the bed. “At least there’s not a head under the bed.”
“Did you see it?” Kenna asked. She had caught a tone when he mentioned it, and knew he’d taken the suitcase to thecoroner. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to find another one.” She could still remember her first dead body.
How green was this deputy? Even though he was on the younger side, he seemed to know what he was doing. There was a logical progression to the way he searched the room. Like now, taking out items one by one. Laying them on the bed. Taking photos.
Rayland said, “I didn’t lose my lunch, if that’s what you’re asking. The coroner?” He shook his head. “Ran to the trash can and threw up after she unwrapped it. I had to stop the head from rolling across the table.”
Kenna caught the flash of amusement on his face, or satisfaction that he hadn’t been the one to hurl. “I managed to hold it back. My first dead body. I swallowed hard, and the agent with me gave me a mint.”
“Kobrinsky said it’s a rite of passage to face it.”
“He’s not wrong.” She just didn’t agree with all of his opinions—or methods. “Did the coroner ID the head officially?”
“She wanted to know where the body was,” Rayland said. “Like I was hiding it in my car, or something. Maybe it’s buried in the field with the kids that—” He cleared his throat.
“How’s the progress going on that?” Kenna had been out of the loop since the head. They’d identified the man following her, but that didn’t solve the open cases the sheriff had now.
“It’ll take a few days. State police is sending up crime scene people to collect evidence and unearth the bodies. Out of our hands.”
“It’s rough work, but it’s what they do.”
Jax muttered in her ears, “Should be a federal case.”
She’d have agreed. Back when she was an agent herself. However, now that she had a morefreelanceexistence, shecould honestly say that the local professionals could handle it. Just because it was a high-profile case didn’t meant it couldn’t be solved by this sheriff’s department and the state police.
The feds didn’t want to do the grunt work when the suspect was already in custody.
“Tell me,” Rayland said, “how’d you know it was Marion Wells?”
“Instinct.” She wasn’t sure she could chalk it up to anything but that. “I’ve solved a lot of murder cases, and worked a lot of investigations where someone went missing. I looked where the sheriff didn’t, because I had the luxury of following theories without the pressure of time or it being fresh in the news. I could work leads that went nowhere because I had the time to spend chasing them even if it was just to rule it out.”
“Huh.” Rayland looked over, holding his phone out to take a photo of a plain gray T-shirt. “I thought you were gonna point out what he missed.”
“Everyone missed a lot. That’s how crimes continue for years, longer than anyone can stand allowing them to continue. But wishing you have a suspect doesn’t make one magically appear. You have to knock on doors. Interview suspects. Or pore over every word of the case file that’s already been put together.” Kenna shrugged. “That means you all did the hard work. I just did the reading homework.”
He smirked. “Right. And as soon as you figured it out, you called the sheriff so he could get a search warrant?”
Kenna smiled. “Where would be the fun in that?”
“Shame. I’d have liked to see you confront Marion with the truth.”
“I’m just glad I found that girl alive.” Even if Rebekah’s father wasn’t happy with how long it had taken. “At least one was saved.”
Kenna wandered to the window and looked out. They didn’t need Stan Tilley showing up before the other deputy. What they needed was a taskforce here to find the guy and hunt him down. Not just Jax with no backup except her. She’d be more worried about protecting him, and he would be more worried about protecting her by putting his own life on the line to draw out Stan.
Where are you, Stan?
She tapped her fingers on the side of her leg and watched the parking lot. The odd car passed on the street, then one going the other way. “We need to find out if he gave the manager here his license plate number, or any details on what car he’s driving.”
Rayland stowed his phone. “I can go ask.”
“Hang here until the other deputy shows up. Otherwise, you’re leaving the scene unsecured.”
“Butyou’rehere.”
“And I’m not a deputy.” Even if the sheriff had threatened her with that for his escort detail.