Page 7
SIX
Although Adrian wasn’t completely surprised by Erin’s statement, hearing her confirm his worst fear made it hard to catch his breath. How could this be? Sanctuary was a small town. The place where he’d grown up. As far back as he could remember, there had only been two killings in Sanctuary. The first one happened almost twenty years ago. A man shot an intruder who broke into his house intending to rob him—and then the incident two years ago. A violent argument between a married couple. The man had tried to beat his wife. She responded by stabbing him in the throat. Adrian had responded to a hysterical call from the wife. He still had flashbacks of the scene. When he’d accepted the job in his hometown, he’d believed he’d left behind the violence he’d witnessed in Chicago, where he’d first been a cop. But seeing the dead man lying on the floor of his home, blood everywhere because the wife had sliced open his carotid artery, Adrian had flashed back to those days. That night he was haunted by the man’s eyes, open and staring at nothing. There’d been a look of horror on his face. It was an expression he’d seen before, too many times. Was it there because people who were dying realized their lives were over? If they’d rejected God, did the fear that hell might be real suddenly overwhelm them? There was no way to know, but still, Adrian wondered about it. Sometimes at night, when he was trying to sleep, images from the past would pop into his mind. It would take him a while to push them back into the vault in his mind where he kept the things he didn’t want to think about. Both of the killings in Sanctuary had been ruled as justified, although they were still tragedies, but now things had changed. Something evil had come to Sanctuary, and it was his job to stop it.
Finding the body in the woods had created a situation he wasn’t sure he could face alone. That’s why he felt compelled to contact Erin Delaney. He was relieved to know that Kaely Quinn-Hunter would also be here soon. In Chicago, most of the murders he’d encountered had either been gang shootings or violent thefts. However, he’d never encountered a serial killer. He’d read about them, but he never believed something like this could happen in Sanctuary. Of course, just because Erin Delaney said it was...
“Why do you say that?” he asked her.
Erin sighed audibly. “First of all, let me tell you what I see, then we’ll get to why I suspect he’s not finished.”
“How do you know the killer is a man?” he asked. “I know the statistics, but I don’t see how you can rule out a woman.”
“She’d have to be pretty strong to carry the body here.”
Before Adrian could ask her how she knew the woman wasn’t murdered in this spot, she crouched down and pointed at the ground.
“It’s fall so there are leaves everywhere. The leaves around the body are barely disturbed, but there are broken leaves leading back toward the road. She wasn’t dragged. If she had been, there would be drag marks. Whoever put her here carried her, and that’s not a short walk. That means you have someone who is strong enough to carry a body. That tells me that it was most probably a man. Moving on, I notice that she was stabbed in the chest. The person who did this knew exactly what he was doing. Most people hit a rib when they try to stab someone in the heart. However, there’s just one wound here. He hit his mark right off the bat. This doesn’t mean he had medical knowledge. It might just mean that he’s perfected his killing, meaning this may not be his first murder. Saying that, it’s important to remember that the first death is always the most important. If this is his first, you need to pay special attention to it. But I suspect it’s not.” She sighed. “She bled a lot, but as you can see, the blood has darkened and there isn’t any on the ground around her. She bled out somewhere else.” Erin paused and took a breath. Adrian could tell this was difficult for her. “Her eyes are closed. The killer closed them. He has some remorse. Didn’t want her staring at him. Have your forensic people look for fingerprints on her eyelids. Some killers forget about that. He didn’t cover her, so any reticence he has is minor. He wants everyone to see what he did. I feel like this was some kind of mission. As if he’s trying to right a wrong. I think you’ll find that she wasn’t molested. He wouldn’t put her in a white dress if he’d defiled her.”
“You think the killer dressed her?” Adrian asked.
Erin nodded. “This woman would never wear anything like this. It’s obviously handmade, and not expertly. Whoever sewed this dress knows the basics, but isn’t skilled. Look at this woman’s hair. It’s been expertly highlighted. Her nails are manicured. I’d guess her teeth are in good shape, but I don’t want to touch the body. I don’t want to disturb any evidence.” She paused for a moment. “This white dress reminds me of something a woman might wear to a confirmation. I believe there’s some kind of religious symbolism here.” She paused for a moment. “In fact, I’m certain of it. I’ll explain that in a minute. It will be hard to determine TOD because it was in the twenties last night. Hopefully, your ME will be able to give you a good estimate.”
A voice behind them called Adrian’s name, causing him to turn around. The medical examiner was here. Dr. Gibson was a local physician who had volunteered to serve in the position. The doctor was what some would call a curmudgeon. Adrian wondered how he’d take having an outsider look over his crime scene.
Gibson walked up next to him. He glared at Adrian, his jaw working hard. Then he cursed under his breath.
“You wanna tell me just what’s goin’ on here?” he asked.
“Doc, just give her a minute, please,” Adrian said. “I asked her to look things over before you take control.”
“And just who is this?” Gibson bellowed. “Is she the local ME? If so, I’ll just head back to the office.”
Adrian took a deep breath, trying to control his irritation. If he ticked Gibson off, he’d have a real problem. “You’re the ME, Doc. This lady is someone who has experience with crime scenes. I just asked her opinion because we’re not used to something like this. She’s almost done.” He looked at Erin. “Right?”
It was obvious that she understood his situation. “Yes, I am. Sorry to be in your way, Doctor. Just give me a couple of minutes.”
Adrian took a few steps away from Gibson and knelt down next to Erin. “Thanks for trying to smooth things over. I apologize.”
“It’s okay. I believe this woman is a tourist. She’s unmarried, but she has a pet. This may not be her dress, but the shoes are hers.” Erin pointed at the top of one of her shoes. Sure enough, there were a couple of small white hairs. “You can see that these hairs don’t belong to her. Either they belong to her pet—or to his if she picked them up in his car. I doubt that though, because I think the killer was more careful than that. He probably put something under the body. I would guess he used plastic, but your forensic people should check her dress for any kinds of fibers—or hair. Locard’s exchange principle.” She looked up at him. “Do you know what that is?”
Adrian nodded. He could have been offended, but he wasn’t. “The perpetrator of a crime will not only bring something to the scene, he’ll leave with something.”
She smiled at him. “Yes. Good.”
“What else do you see?” he asked.
“Her lipstick was put on before she was killed. I think she was getting ready to go somewhere. Although some women put on makeup in the morning, it’s usually light. This isn’t. She’s wearing foundation, liner, blush, mascara... she even shaped her eyebrows. Her lipstick is dark and applied very carefully. Then there are the shoes. Dressy heels. Earrings and a necklace. She was probably going somewhere last night. Look for events in the area. Or maybe she was meeting someone for dinner. I doubt she knew him... or her... well.” She frowned. “The blue ribbon in her hair?”
He nodded.
“I think the murderer added it too. It just doesn’t fit with her makeup, her shoes, or even her hair. It looks forced.” She nodded. “I believe he’s responsible for the ribbon, as well as the dress.”
“Okay. So why do you think that if she was meeting someone, she didn’t know them very well? ”
“Just guessing,” Erin said, “but if you haven’t gotten a call from someone reporting her missing, that means anyone she was meeting didn’t know her very well. If he—or she—had... they would be concerned about her whereabouts by now. They probably would have contacted you. Were there any special events happening in the area last night?”
Adrian thought for a moment. “Most of the nearby events are over by the end of October. It picks up again in December. The only thing I can think of is Grits and Grains. It’s in Townsend, about twenty miles from here, but it’s really popular.”
Erin frowned at him. “She doesn’t look like someone who would go to something called Grits and Grains . ”
“You may be pretty perceptive about most things, but you’re reading this wrong. They feature gourmet foods and fancy drinks. Sounds like it might be right up this gal’s alley.”
Erin shrugged. “Sorry. Hard to tell from the title.”
“Some things aren’t that easy to judge. Along with some people.”
Erin paused and seemed to be taking stock of him. Her green eyes locked on his. It made him nervous.
She frowned. “Do you get many visitors in the fall?”
He nodded. “A lot of people come here to see the leaves turn.”
“But it’s pretty cold.”
“We’re usually in the thirties at night. Close to forty. This cold snap is a little unusual, but it happens.”
Erin was silent for a moment. “It’s November,” she said. “The leaves start changing in October. My guess is that she was probably getting ready to go home. Maybe after the event you mentioned. Look for someone renting a place or a room whose reservation is almost up.” She pointed at the object the woman held in her hands. “Did you notice this?”
“Sure. This is why I came to you. I’ve never seen anything like it before. An angel statue with what looks like red tears falling from its eyes. Looks like whoever painted it wasn’t skilled at it.” A long line of paint dribbled down the front of the angel.
Erin stood, and Adrian did the same. She stepped closer to him. He could smell her hair. What was that scent? Peaches?
“The angel is a spiritual symbol. Like the dress. It’s the killer’s signature. The angel is crying. Your UNSUB may be saying that this woman offends him for some kind of spiritual reason. Maybe he thinks her lifestyle makes the angels cry. Or he’s trying to make them cry by his actions. I can’t be sure of that. There’s no way to know what it is that offends him until he kills again and then you should be able to see the connection. And the sloppiness? That’s the problem, Chief. This is why I believe you’re dealing with a serial killer. I don’t think the person who painted this angel made a mistake. In fact, I think he’s very, very careful. Extremely organized.” She looked around her at the officers and Gibson who would have steam coming from his ears if it were possible. She took a step even closer to him. She clearly didn’t want to be overheard. “That isn’t a slip-up. It’s a number. The number one.”
Adrian felt as if all the blood in his body had suddenly frozen solid.
Table of Contents
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- Page 6
- Page 7 (Reading here)
- Page 8
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- Page 48