Page 69 of Girl Between

“Yeah, well once you’ve been there you know better than to talk about it.”

Both Dana and George were quiet, absorbing the fact that Shepard had not only been to the infamous 6 million grave cemetery in Iraq, but he’d probably put more than his fair share of bodies there.

Normally, George found cemeteries peaceful. But today, police tape crisscrossed the entrance to Metairie like cobwebs, police cruisers acting as silent sentries. He was grateful he didn’t need to tell them to kill their sirens this time. The some nine thousand souls laid to rest there since the Civil War didn’t deserve to be disturbed.

Pride brimmed in George’s chest at the respect he saw his officers showing as he pulled up. Their lights were off, radios turned down, faces grim.

He parked the truck and took a deep breath, switching into his least favorite role. He reached across Dana and grabbed his badge and gun from the lockbox between her legs.

It was time to begin.

65

Jake walked justbehind George and his officers, shoulder-to-shoulder with Dana.

It was strange to jump back into another crime scene together. But in some ways, they worked better like this. All keen eyes and steady hands. No place for things like emotion.

On scene, Jake was introduced to Officer LaSalle, who instantly won him over with the hot paper cup of coffee she handed each of them. He was informed the coffee was from a local joint across the street called Sacred Grinds. The logo, a zombie’s hand reaching up from a grave, was a bit morbid for the occasion, but Jake found he agreed with the slogan—Coffee to wake the dead—and he needed it.

Another sleepless night left him running on fumes. At this point, he’d take caffeine from Lucifer himself. Anything to chase the hunger for sleep from his mind.

“Pulled CCTV and security footage already. Neville’s escorting it to the station,” LaSalle said, diving right in.

Jake made a mental note of it. Another point for the young cop in his book. No time to waste when there were bodies lying around.

Jake fell into step behind George, allowing LaSalle to take the lead navigating the sprawling graveyard. Dana walked a few pacesbehind. It’s how she typically liked to take in a scene. Something Jake had learned from their past cases.

He knew she viewed the world through her own unique lens. Taking it in at her pace was part of the process.

Senses tracking Dana, Jake listened to the details Officer LaSalle rattled off as they went.

“Perimeter is secure. No one’s been in or out besides us.”

George gave a nod of approval.

“So far, it’s been quiet. Wreck on the West Bank has the news tied up for the moment, but it won’t stay that way,” LaSalle warned. “City Park crowd will be showing up any minute now that the sun’s up.”

“Sure ‘nough,” George muttered. “Send Davis to deal with the Press, if need be, but I’m hoping we can get this buttoned up rather quickly.”

LaSalle stopped walking, her foreboding gaze meeting George’s. “I think you might feel differently when you see this one, boss.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s just … different,” LaSalle replied.

George shook his head. “Another graveyard. Another Jane Doe drained of blood. Sounds like our guy.”

“Yeah,” LaSalle paused, “but if it is, he’s advancing.”

“Advancing how?” George demanded.

“You need to see it for yourself,” LaSalle replied.

They followed LaSalle the rest of the way in silence. Towering tombs and colossal mausoleums sprouted from the earth like mini empires on either side of the narrow rows, until all at once the cemetery opened up to a small clearing. In the center, raised marble slabs rested in single file rows. They protruded out of the manicured grounds by only a foot or two, stretching out in long, uneven rows. They reminded Jake of tables that had sunk into quicksand, settling at different heights.

The one furthest away immediately drew Jake’s attention.

It wasn’t just the bright yellow police tape staked around it. It was the scene beyond that.