Page 28

Chapter 28

Tobias

I parked my truck behind Brooklyn's cruiser, noting the line of official vehicles lining the narrow service road behind Whispering Pines Funeral Home.

Samuel Baker, the funeral director, paced anxiously by the back door, his normally composed demeanor shattered. His assistant, a young man whose name I couldn't recall, sat on a nearby bench, head in his hands.

"Sheriff," Baker nodded grimly as I approached. His face was ashen. "In my thirty years, I've never..."

"Where is she?" I asked, pulling on latex gloves.

He gestured toward the delivery entrance. "Right where we found her. Hasn't been touched."

I rounded the corner of the building and stopped short, causing Samuel to run into me. The woman sat propped against the door, legs stretched out in front of her, hands folded neatly in her lap. She wore a form-fitting black dress that accentuated her slender figure. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that would have been beautiful if not for the perfectly round hole in the center of her forehead. Two red roses lay in her arms like some sort of weird beauty pageant bouquet. Their vibrant color is a stark contrast against the black fabric and the paleness of her skin.

Brooklyn stood a few feet away, camera in hand, documenting the scene. She glanced at me, her expression grim. "Asian female, mid-twenties. No ID. Clean shot, I'd guess execution style."

I crouched down, studying the woman's face. "Time of death?"

"Hard to tell without the coroner, but rigor is present. I guess sometime late last night or early this morning," Samuel said.

"Aren't you a coroner?" I asked Samuel.

"Yes, but under the circumstances I thought it best to have Dr. Renfield from the hospital handle this."

I nodded acknowledging that I heard what he said. The woman's makeup was impeccable, her nails perfectly manicured. Everything about her from the dress, the hair, the jewelry spoke of someone who took great care with her appearance.

"She wasn't killed here," I observed, noting the absence of blood spatter on the door. "Body was posed."

"Like a mannequin," Brooklyn agreed. "Whoever did this took their time, arranged her just so."

"Maybe suggesting they cared about her?" Sang added. "Maybe this was a crime of passion?"

"Yeah, what a better place to make sure she's found," Rogers said. "They cared enough not to leave her in a ditch somewhere."

The sound of tires on gravel announced more arrivals. Erin's forensics van pulled up, followed by Law's SUV.

"Heard this was where you all were," Law explained as he approached, Ferris looming behind him like a shadow. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the victim. "Well, that's a change, having people delivered to the funeral home."

Erin bustled past, her team in tow. "Move aside, gentlemen. Let the science through."

As she set up her equipment, I stepped back, taking in the bigger picture. The funeral home sat at the edge of town, backing up to a wooded area. The service road provided easy access without being visible from the main street. The killer could have arrived and departed without being seen.

"Ever seen her before?" I asked everyone quietly.

They all shook their heads no with Brooklyn adding, "Never. But that dress isn't from around here. That's a high-end designer dress."

Law moved closer, studying the victim. "If you can give me the make and designer plus a picture of her face I can have Mouse and Keyboard start a search. Maybe we can find out who she is."

Sang moved closer, studying the victim. "What's the significance of the two roses?"

Everyone was silent.

"Symbolism?" Brooklyn suggested.

"Or a signature," Law countered.

"A couple in love?" Ferris offered. Erin glanced over her shoulder.

"It's odd," I stated.

Erin's voice interrupted our speculation. "Sheriff, you might want to see this."

She pointed to the woman's hands, folded so neatly in her lap. "No defensive wounds. Nails are perfect. She either knew her killer or was restrained before the shot. But I'm leaning toward knowing the killer as there aren't any marks on her wrists or ankles."

"I agree," I added.

"There's more," Erin continued, lifting the woman's hair slightly with a gloved hand. "See this mark?"

A small tattoo, no bigger than a quarter, sat just behind her right ear: a stylized oriental mark with what looked like a crown above it.

"What's the symbol?" I asked but Erin just shrugged her shoulders.

"Hey, have any of you seen this mark before?" I addressed Law and the others.

"No," Brooklyn echoed everyone who looked before her.

"Get a good picture, we need to know what that symbol stands for," I told her. "Give it to Law along with the others."

Dr. Renfield, a gray-haired man who'd served the county for decades, huffed his way over to the scene.

"Goodness," he observed grimly. "I bet she didn't take an Uber." His booming laugh caused several to jump. "Now you have to admire that," he bent over at the waist putting his face extremely close to the dead woman's. He blew out a whistle, "A clean, clean shot. Someone knows their guns. Something bigger would have made a giant messy hole. This, this is precise. Yes, sir, this person knew a pretty little thing like her would need a beautiful clean shot."

Glancing around everyone has the same expression: mouths open, eyes wide. Which is exactly how I looked.

"Aww, yes, Erin," Dr. Renfield peered up. "I didn't see you standing there. Good to see you, good to see you. What have you found so far?"

As the forensics team and Dr. Renfield did their work, I noticed a small crowd gathering at the edge of the property. News traveled fast in Whispering Pines, especially bad news. Several people held up phones, trying to capture images of the scene.

"Let's get those people back," I called my deputies. "Tell them to go home, they aren't going to see anything."

The next hour passed in a blur of activity—evidence collected, photographs taken, statements recorded. Through it all, the woman remained posed against the door, those red roses still lying across her lap like some macabre valentine.

"The bullet," Dr. Renfield reported after his preliminary examination, "appears to be a 9mm, clean through-and-through. Entered the forehead, exited through a small spot in the back of the skull. Death would have been instantaneous."

"That's the same caliber we found this morning," Erin added.

"We'll need ballistics to confirm if it's from the same weapon," I said, "but I'm not one to believe in coincidences."

"I'll see to it personally," Erin told me. "We're done here, the rest is the funeral home's. I'm going to the lab to work on the bullet." Slapping me on the shoulder as she passed. "Let's not have anything else today, okay?"

"I'm all for that," I said watching them carry their equipment to their truck. Ferris stepped over and caught Erin before she got in. He took out his phone and typed something before smiling and opening Erin's door. I elbowed Law who was standing next to me. We watched Ferris shut the door, and give her a wave.

"That's a smooth operator that can pick up a woman mere feet from a dead body," I shook my head.

"Right? I'm kind of shocked. Usually he's not so forward."

I surveyed the growing crowd beyond the perimeter Sang had established. I saw news people with cameramen.

"What the fuck is happening in this town?" I muttered.

"Everyone's got a scanner," Law said, surveying the crowd.

"Not that," I spun around, "that." I pointed to the dead woman.

"War," Law replied simply. "Someone's declaring war."

I turned to face him. "Then we need to be ready."