Page 14

Chapter 14

Tobias

My pickup's tires screech as I take the park entrance too fast, adrenaline pounding through my system. The call keeps replaying in my head: Ten sixty-seven—dead body—at the pond. What the hell is going on in my town?

The park is usually a peaceful refuge with morning joggers, elderly couples getting their daily steps in, mothers with dogs and strollers. This is not a place for death.

Red and blue lights from the first responder's vehicle flash against the trees. An ambulance is already parked on the grass, its back doors open. A small crowd has gathered near the yellow police tape that looks like it's been hastily strung between two oak trees. Deputy Sang stands with his back to the crowd, arms spread wide as if physically holding them back.

I pull up behind the ambulance and immediately spot Deputy Rogers, her notebook out, talking to a visibly shaken elderly couple at a picnic table. People are pointing, murmuring, some recording with their phones. This is exactly what I don't need—a fucking public spectacle.

Taking a deep breath, I step out and instantly switch into what Tim calls my Alpha Sheriff mode. The badge feels suddenly heavier on my chest. I jog over to where Deputy Sang is.

"Everyone needs to step back!" My voice thunders across the area. "This is an active crime scene. Deputy Sang, get those people back another fifty feet and get their names, numbers, and addresses. People, you're in our crime scene. That means nobody leaves until my deputies have taken their statements."

The crowd stirs, some shifting backward, others craning their necks for a better view.

"I'm serious, folks. Back up now, or I'll have to consider obstruction charges for each of you." This gets their attention. The crowd reluctantly retreats as Sang begins taking names.

Deputy Rogers approaches, her face grim. "White female, early to mid-twenties. No ID, no clothes. Just some jewelry. Looks like she had it rough before the end."

"Any witnesses?"

"No, not yet. The Millers found her." Brooklyn nods toward the elderly couple. "Morning walk around seven-thirty. Their dog sniffed her out. They thought she was sleeping at first until they got closer."

I follow her on the walking path toward the pond. The taller grass on one side dances in the light breeze. The small decorative pier comes into sight. Another two steps and I see her. She's lying on her side in a patch of trampled grass about fifteen feet from the water's edge, partially hidden by cattails. Completely naked except for an ornate sapphire and diamond necklace at her throat and a matching bracelet on her wrist. Dark curly hair frames a face I recognize immediately, despite the cuts, bruising, and unnatural pallor.

"Sophia." Her name escapes me in a whisper.

"You know her?" Brooklyn looks up sharply.

"Sophia Vasquez. Front desk manager at the Whispering Pines Inn." My mind flashes to the last time I saw her the day Melanie went missing. "She couldn't be more than twenty-five."

"Oh yeah, I remember I questioned her when Melanie went missing."

Bruising around her neck suggests strangulation. No obvious blood other than a few cuts. But the poor soul has massive bruising starting on her torso and limbs. The way she's positioned—limbs akimbo, hair splayed in the grass—suggests she was dumped, not killed here.

"Looks like whoever it was, tried to throw her in the pond but didn't get her far enough," Brooklyn says, voicing my thoughts. "Probably got spooked so, they took off rather than stop and throw her in."

The jewelry catches the morning sunlight, incongruously beautiful against her lifeless skin. Something clicks in my mind. "That necklace and bracelet. Art Deco style, sapphires and diamonds."

"Yeah, that's what I think too, it's the one from the antiques break in." Brooklyn states.

I crouch for a closer look, careful not to disturb anything. "This has to be it."

"Fuck," Brooklyn whispers. "Sure looks like they're connected?"

Before I can answer, a voice calls from behind us. "First break-in's now dead bodies?"

Erin Maithis strides down the path, carrying her forensics kit. Her hair is pulled back in a severe ponytail, and she's dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt rather than her usual professional attire.

"Erin? I didn't call for forensics yet." I looked at Deputy Rogers who shook her head no.

"I was heading through town when I heard the call. Figured you'd need me sooner rather than later. So, I saved you the call." She surveys the scene with practiced efficiency. "Do we know who she is?"

"Sophia Vasquez. Works at, well, worked at the Whispering Pines Inn." I report. "The jewelry, we believe is from the antiques break in."

Erin nods, her expression softening momentarily before her professional mask slips back into place. "Let me get to work. Can someone send the paramedics down so we can get her off the grass? Has the coroner been called?"

I glanced at Deputy Rogers who shook her head no.

"That's alright, I'll call."

"Erin," I caught her eye, "this one got to be by the books, it could be connected to something much bigger."

A look of understanding came over her, "You got it."

I stand, grateful for her competence. "Brooklyn, can you get the EMTs? I want to talk to the Millers."

We separate, my mind races with implications. Sophia's body was dumped like trash. The stolen jewelry was deliberately placed on her. My gut is telling me this wasn't a random killing—it was a message. But from whom? And why?

The crowd has grown despite our efforts. Word travels fast in small towns. I spot several faces I recognize—business owners, morning joggers, retirees who probably called others to come and see the commotion. All watching, whispering, wondering.

The Millers sit on a park bench, Mrs. Miller clutching a handkerchief, her husband's arm around her shoulders. Their small fluffy brown dog sitting on her lap. They've lived in Whispering Pines for over forty years. Harold was on the school board when I was a teenager. They shouldn't have to see something like this in their twilight years.

"Mr. and Mrs. Miller." I sit beside them, trying to gentle my voice. "I know this is difficult, and that you told Deputy Edwards what happened but I need you to tell me too. Please."

Mrs. Miller dabs at her eyes. "We walk every morning, laps around the pond. Doctor's orders for Harold's heart." Her husband pats her hand. "We were on our first lap when Bruce, here," she stroked the dog's head, "he wouldn't come out of the grass. He was whining and barking and making quite a fuss. Harold went to pick him up, that's when he saw her."

Harold takes over. "But then we got closer and saw she wasn't moving. I told Maggie to come over, you know on account of the girl being naked." He swallows hard. "We called to her and I nudged her with my foot but we knew that poor girl was gone. We called 911 right away."

"Did you see anyone else? Any vehicles? Anything unusual at all?"

They look at each other, then shake their heads. "The park was empty when we arrived," Harold says. "Just us until those joggers showed up." He points to a couple in running gear talking to Deputy Sang.

"And you didn't touch anything?"

"No, sir." Harold straightens, his former military habits kicking in. "I know better than that."

"Thank you, you can go. I'll contact you if we have any other questions." Standing I move toward the growing crowd. People part as I approach, their conversations falling silent. I recognize several ladies from the morning church group. Great, Holly says they're faster than AT&T for spreading the word.

"Listen up, everyone." I raise my voice to carry. "I need statements from anyone who was in the park between six and seven-thirty this morning. Deputy Sang will take your information. If you arrived after the Millers found the body, you can leave your name and number with Deputy Rogers. We may contact you later."

Questions start flying immediately.

"Sheriff, who is it?" "Was it murder?" "Is it connected to the break-ins?" "Is it true she's naked?"

I hold up my hand. "We're in the earliest stages of the investigation. I can't comment on the details right now. What I can say is that everyone should remain vigilant. Lock your doors. Be aware of your surroundings. Report anything suspicious."

A young woman wearing earbuds pushes forward. "I run here every morning. Is it safe?"

It's the question I've been dreading. The honest answer is I don't know. The break-ins are escalating with violence and now a murder. Connected how? By whom?

"Exercise caution. Use your best judgment. Run with a partner if possible. Stick to populated areas. Don't run in the dark." I meet her eyes directly. "And keep your phone charged and accessible."

Deputy Rogers appears at my side. "Sheriff, Erin and the coroner want you."

"Stay and help Sang." I excuse myself and head to the scene. Erin is crouched beside Sophia's body, now partially covered with a sheet. She looks up as I approach. I nod to Stu Johnson, the coroner.

"Take a look at this." Erin pulls back the sheet slightly, revealing Sophia's right hand. The fingernails are broken, with what appears to be skin caught underneath. "She fought back. Hard."

"Can we get DNA?"

"I hope so. But there's more." Erin points to faint marks on Sophia's wrists and ankles. "Ligature marks. She was bound before she was killed. And we're not convinced strangulation was the cause of death. No petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes. We're thinking it's asphyxiation, perhaps a plastic bag or something similar. We'll know more after the autopsy."

I process this information, each detail making the picture grimmer. "Timeline?"

"Based on lividity and body temperature, I'm putting the time of death between one AM and four AM. But she was dead before they dumped her here."

"How can you be sure?"

Stu speaks up, "No grass marks on her back. As the blood in the body settled, it would have made indents."

I nod, my gaze drifting to the jewelry around Sophia's neck and wrist. "That necklace and bracelet tie it to the robbery. I'm certain they're the ones from the antique shop."

"Already on it. I sent your office the pictures." Erin hesitates. "Tobias, this looks like a message. Leaving her naked and putting the jewelry on her—that's symbolic."

"I agree." The words taste bitter. "This isn't random violence. It's calculated."

"You think it's the same guys from the warehouse?"

Erin asks me the question I have been asking myself since the call came in. Of all the questions I've been asked today, that's the one I wish I had a definite answer for.

"Your hesitation speaks for itself," Erin and I lock eyes.

"I have a group working on his location. They're the best in the business, if anyone can find him, they can." I tell them both believing exactly what I said. Law won't stop till he finds Michael.

Erin nods, "I've called in some of my team to work over the area."

"Thanks," I tell her, "we'll get some tape up. And keep the crowds back."

My radio crackles. "Sheriff?" It's Mark. "News van just pulled up. Reporter's asking for a statement."

Perfect. Just what we fucking need—media attention before we've even notified next of kin.

"Tell them no comment at this time." I stand a new urgency in my movements. "And keep them behind the tape."

Stepping back I call Holly. "We need the next of kin for Sofia Vasquez."

"Shit, the girl from the inn?"

"Yes."

Holly's shocked voice states, "She's young."

"I know."

"Tobias, I can tell by your tone it's bad, is it bad-bad?"

"Yes. Erin sent pictures. Can you verify we got them?"

"Hold on," I can hear Holly typing. "Oh fuck, she's naked. Wait, is that the set from the antique store?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, I'll find her next of kin. Maybe some people from the inn know if she was dating someone. Should talk to Cameron Whitaker, he managed the inn for a long time."

"You should've been a detective."

"So you've said. I'll call you back when I have the information." Holly disconnected the call.

Erin and Stu are loading the body into the ambulance.

I called over my radio. "Hey you two, come on down here with the tape. We're going to set up the tape in two circles."

A few minutes later Sang and Edwards stepped in next to me followed by people, one of whom is the news reporter. Seeing Stu he ran around us to the ambulance all while taking a video with his phone.

We set up a perimeter for Erin's team to work. Then another one to keep the looky-loos even farther away. When that was done Sang said he would take the first watch.