A Killer's Mind (Zoe Bentley Mystery #1)(57)

Finally, she jotted down the time stamp when Lily began screaming in panic. Just before that, Martinez had actually said, “Huron,” but Lily hadn’t stopped him. Did they get the street name wrong? Zoe listened to this segment over and over, frowning. Prior to Lily’s frightened screams, there was a slight sound, almost imperceptible. A squeak.

A door opening.

Lily had probably stopped paying attention to Martinez because she’d heard the killer coming for her. And then he’d walked in and disconnected the call.

Zoe played the sound file again, focusing on the sound bite when the two men could be heard. Zoe frowned. She had also heard them several times during the call. Completely apathetic to Lily’s screaming. They sounded almost casual. She increased the volume and listened a few times more. It sounded like one man asking a question, and the other man giving a lengthy answer. She listened again to the entire file, volume high, flinching when Lily’s screams echoed in the empty room. Nine minutes into the recording, one of the voices changed, while the other stayed the same. The man asking the questions was talking to a third person. Who also completely ignored Lily’s screams. Because, of course, he wasn’t there.

It was the sound of a talk show.

She shook her head in disgust. Stupid. Time wasted.

She focused on the monitor. The bloody throat drew her attention. She frowned, her eyes moving from the cut throat to the bruise on the side.

Finally, she dialed Tatum.

“Zoe, we’re in the middle of the autopsy,” he said, sounding cranky.

“I know. Sorry. Listen, do you know yet if the victim was strangled?”

“Yeah, the ME says he thinks she was strangled before her throat was cut.”

“Was that the cause of death?”

“He thinks so. The victim has hemorrhages in the eyes, which often happens in cases of death by strangulation.”

“Then why did he cut her throat?”

“I don’t know, Zoe. Because he’s crazy.”

“Was the body embalmed?”

“No, definitely not.”

That didn’t surprise her. She doubted the killer had had time to embalm the body. “Okay, let me know what else you find.”

“Right,” Tatum said and hung up.

Zoe bit her lip, thinking. Could the killer have slashed the woman’s throat postmortem out of rage? It didn’t sound like the kind of action he’d take. What, then?

She glanced at her phone. She had an idea. She called a second number.

“Abramson Funeral Home. This is Vernon.”

“Mr. Abramson, this is Zoe. I was at the funeral home the other day . . .”

“I remember. How can I help you?”

“I have a dead body, and her throat is cut. I was wondering . . . would that make embalming problematic?”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to understand this wound. It was done postmortem, and—”

“Is it a cut to the common carotid artery?”

Zoe blinked. “I have no idea.”

He sighed. “Is there an image you can send me?”

“Uh . . . sure. What’s your email?”

He gave her his email. As she sent him the photo of the victim’s throat, Scott walked into the room and waved hi. She smiled at him.

“Okay,” Abramson said. “Got it. Yes, this looks like a cut to the carotid artery.”

“So . . . what does that mean for the embalming process?”

“Well, I assume it was made during the embalming process,” Abramson said.

“What?”

“The common carotid artery is one of the preferred places to cut when embalming to inject the embalming fluid. Though he seems to have messed it up—the drainage spurted all over the throat.”

“What does that mean?”

“Like I told you before, it means you are dealing with an amateur.”

“But the body isn’t embalmed.”

“Then he probably stopped before he was done.”

“I see.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No . . . thank you, Mr. Abramson. You’ve been very helpful.”

She put down her phone, her mind trying to assemble the sequence of events.

The killer had walked in, seeing Lily trying to get the police to help her. He had disconnected the call and strangled Lily to death. Then . . . he had decided to embalm her.

Why didn’t he simply get rid of the body and get another prostitute? Surely he realized how risky this was. Embalming a body took about two hours. The police, as far as he knew, were on their way . . .

This body was very important to him; that was the only explanation she could think of. He really wanted it embalmed.

He had begun, then stopped during the process, which he had mucked up. He had taken the body with him . . . but then discarded it in an alley when he had seen the roadblocks.

It was erratic behavior. He became erratic when he was under pressure. She made a note of that.

She returned to the first time stamp. The muffled word.

“Hey, Scott, can you come here for a sec?” she said.

He got up and walked over. “What’s up?”

“Can you listen to this and tell me if you can understand what she’s trying to say?”