Bring Me Flowers (Detectives Kane and Alton #2)(12)
“I’ll do it.” Alton took the containers and a bottle of water from him. “I hope this is enough plaster of Paris. Do you prefer adding sticks to the cast for strength?”
“There are plastic rods in the second container. Mix one-third of the powder with water in the large container and you should have enough for two footprints.”
Kane pulled out his cellphone, thankful for the high-resolution camera. “I’ll take the shots.” He stepped carefully around the rock and bent to take close-up images of the immediate disturbed area then went back and, following Wolfe’s competent instructions, clicked away at the victim.
Making a conscious effort to be clinical, he could not prevent rage from bubbling to the surface at seeing such a young woman brutalized. He had not hardened to such sights and doubted he ever would. No, the shock registering on the pretty face would stay with him forever. Her soft brown eyes resembled those of a dead stag and her painted lips hung open in a grotesque smile. He lowered the camera and turned to see Wolfe juggling a recorder. “Do you need any help?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Wolfe passed a small recording device to him. “If I record my findings as we go, I won’t miss anything for the initial report.” He peered at him over the top of his mask. “If you could hold it about a couple of feet away, it will pick up my commentary.”
“Sure.” Kane glanced on the ground to make sure he would not destroy evidence then stepped closer and turned on the recorder, holding it out for Wolfe to make his report.
“Initial examination. The victim is a female, Caucasian, approximately sixteen to eighteen years old, sixty-five inches tall with dark hair and eyes. Rigor is minimal. Body temperature is ninety-two degrees, which would put the time of death between five and six hours ago. Little blood evidence at the scene. I estimate death occurred between nine and nine thirty as the body was discovered at ten.” Wolfe gently lifted the girl’s head and examined the skull. His brow creased into a frown. “There is a contusion on the back of the head consistent with blunt force trauma.” He ran a hand down her arm, taking in the defense wounds, lifted her hand and then peered at the other. “I will bag the hands for further analysis.” He placed plastic bags over both hands. “There is evidence of a burn under her chin and across one cheek consistent with a cord or rope. The killer eviscerated the torso. The neck has a laceration measuring approximately six inches traversing the jugular. The angle of the wound indicates a right-handed person held the knife. The lack of blood in the immediate area suggests death occurred in a different location. Sexual activity to be determined. A large amount of lipstick covers the mouth and cheeks, applied post-mortem. A bunch of flowers was left at the feet.” He nodded at Kane and his voice sounded somber. “That’s all I need for now, you can turn off the recorder. I’ll cover her and give her some dignity while we wait for the mortician.” He bent and took a folded plastic sheet from his bag, shook it out, and placed it with great care over the body. When he turned to look at Kane, his eyes held an ice-cold expression. “I so want to get this animal.”
Pushing back a wave of anger, Kane handed him the recorder. “We’ll get him.” He slapped him on the back.
“Right now, the best thing we can do is look for clues.” Alton grimaced. “Killers like this believe they are invincible but sooner or later they make a mistake.”
“I agree.” Wolfe’s pale gaze narrowed. “Ready to search the area, ma’am.”
“Go ahead but keep each side of the footprints.” Alton’s gaze narrowed as she moved around Wolfe and bent over the prints.
Kane followed Wolfe, taking the opposite side, and examined the glint of gold Wolfe had spotted. He moved the leaves with care and found a cross then a chain. The links had snapped as if dragged from the victim’s neck. “I have a necklace here with a cross. Looks like the killer tore it from her neck.” He photographed then bagged the items and slipped them inside a large evidence bag.
“Signs of a struggle here and blood spatter, not enough for the injuries sustained, look here.” Wolfe pointed one long finger at the sandy edge of the river. “Deep marks in the river mud. I’d say he killed her in the water.”
Trying to push the image of the murdered girl from his mind, Kane took more shots and followed Wolfe around the area for another twenty minutes. “Whoever did this covered his tracks pretty well. We had a murder before Christmas with little to no evidence, much like this. I blame TV shows: They’re informing killers how to avoid leaving DNA or other trace evidence.” He led the way back to where Alton was finishing the plaster casts of the shoeprints.
“We have a significant problem with this murder.” Wolfe plucked at his face mask, his gaze fixed on the shrouded figure lying on the flat rock. “This isn’t his first kill. The way he disrespected her by smearing on the lipstick and posing her to make her look like a prostitute, then as if in a sudden pang of conscience, he left her a posy of flowers. This is an advanced escalation of psychopathic behavior, and the way he laid her out—he is proud of what he has done.”
“I agree.” Alton placed the plaster of Paris kit containers into the forensic bag. “This is why we need a database link with other towns. From the look of this victim, the killer has probably been committing murders all over the state, and this time it’s Black Rock Falls’ turn.” She straightened and stood, hands on hips. “I believe he wanted to deliver the ultimate shock value and is close by waiting for the fallout.”