Page 29 of Dead Girl Running

So did Temo.

They looked at Lloyd questioningly.

He retreated farther. “I’ve got a flip phone. Never seen a reason for more.”

“Now you have,” Temo muttered.

“How do you want this photographed?” Kellen didn’t want to take the pictures. She didn’t want to look.

“Um, like, all around. From a distance and close in.” Lloyd shoved his hands into his pockets. “Do you know the last time there was a murder victim around Cape Charade?”

They both shook their heads.

“Neither do I, and I’ve been here for over ten years.” Lloyd glanced at the body. “I’ve never seen someone who was dead and…and rotting. That’s creepy.”

How had Kellen managed to land in the middle of a death investigation with an inexperienced police officer? She asked, “How do you know this is a murder?”

“I’d say her hands have been removed. Wouldn’t you?”

“Dear God.” She didn’t want to know. But for the first time, she looked. Most of the smaller bones were gone or scattered. One hip bone remained, most of the leg bones, one with parts of the foot still attached. The rib cage had been gnawed, the spine had been dismembered and scattered. Wisps of hair clung to the skull…

Don’t look at the skull. Don’t think of Kellen, helpless under Gregory’s pickax.

The arms were there, close to the rib cage as if the victim was holding herself.

“I don’t see her hands.” Kellen had to hold her hood with one hand to keep the wind from slashing it from her head. “But that doesn’t mean they’ve been removed, only that the scavengers—”

“No, he’s right.” Temo knelt in the grass taking pictures with his phone. “The ends of the bones show rasp marks, like marks a saw blade would make, and little bits of joint are hanging in there.”

That’s horrible.She looked around, at the start of the path that led down to the beach, at the rise that led to the cliffs, at the one wind-mangled tree that pointed its defiance at the sky.

“You hope she was killed somewhere besides here,” Kellen said to Lloyd.

“Don’t you?”

Yes, of course she did. A death here at Yearning Sands Resort created problems she was ill equipped to deal with.

“She’s awfully dirty.” Temo was zoomed in on a piece of cloth. “Seems like with all this rain, she shouldn’t have dirt ground into her clothes and hair.”

“If this woman was buried around here, she wasn’t buried deep enough, but there’s not much in the way of clothing remaining, which means she’s been exposed to the elements in a big way. No coffin, no blanket, no care whatsoever for her remains.” For someone who allegedly didn’t know what he was talking about, Lloyd Magnuson sounded confident. “I’d say whoever did this hated her.”

“Or maybe hated all women,” Temo said. “There’s a lot of that in this world.”

Kellen had to say it. “High tide. Really high tide. She could be from one of the sea caves.”

“Sure. Wow. Murder. Definitely need to show this to Sheriff Kwinault. If she—” he gestured at the body “—washed out of the sea caves, maybe the murder took place here.”

“God forbid,” Kellen said fervently.

“Could mean there’s a murderer on the loose.” With a towel, Lloyd picked up a grubby piece of rubbery material and a torn piece of faded cloth and offered them to Kellen. “Take this and show it to the women at the resort. Ask them if they recognize the shoe or the material and remember who they belong to. Maybe we can figure something out that way.”

Kellen looked at the misshapen thing. A shoe. The sole of a tennis shoe. And a swatch of material.

She didn’t take it. “I’m not showing this to the staff! It would create a panic.”

“If you don’t show it to them and somebody else gets murdered, you’re responsible,” Lloyd said.

She didn’t need more guilt to deal with. Yet—“This body has been around for a while and no one else has been killed.”