Bring Me Flowers (Detectives Kane and Alton #2)(65)



Mind reeling with the implications of Wolfe’s statement, Kane frowned. “I’m confused. If Rogers is our killer, burying a body is a complete turnaround in behavior. I have yet to hear of a psychopath who enjoys exhibiting his kills one day then burying them another. I’ve read about killers burying their victims and digging them up later but not both fetishes at the same time.” Every hair on his body stood on end at the idea of two killers in town. “What if Rogers isn’t our man?”

“Don’t get sidetracked. There is no evidence of another murder and we have no one else reported missing in the area.” Wolfe’s stern gaze got his attention. “We don’t know if he kidnapped Felicity. We are assuming he killed her in the river. What if he disabled her and transported her to the river in the trunk of his car? When you caught him beside the forest the other night, he could have been burying his trophies. Felicity’s clothing or the knife he used to kill Joanne.”

Wolfe made a lot of sense and Kane’s hackles went down. “How long before you know if the blood is human?”

“I’ll check it now. I can do a precipitin test. It distinguishes between the blood of humans and animals. I have a kit in the lab.” Wolfe let out a long, tired sigh. “It will take time to run the DNA tests. I have purchased the latest equipment but we’re looking at three days at least before I’ll get a result.”



* * *



Kane followed Wolfe from the garage and into a small laboratory Wolfe shared with the previous M.E. The room was cramped yet sterile and he wondered how Wolfe managed to juggle so many jobs at once. He waited for the result, and when Wolfe held up the test tube and his ice-gray eyes met his over the mask, his stomach dropped to his boots. “It’s positive, right?”

“Yeah, it’s human blood, but until the DNA results come back or we find concrete evidence in his home or on his hard drive, we can’t assume he killed the girls—or in fact anyone. The blood could be his, for all we know.” Wolfe’s blond brows met in a frown. “In forensics it’s baby steps, not rushing to conclusions. What comes out of my lab, I’ll need to verify with proof in court. I know it’s frustrating but as you only have circumstantial evidence, the blood work has to be conclusive.”

Kane stripped off his gloves, blue coveralls, and booties. “You get the tests started and we’ll search Rogers’ home. If I find anything of interest I’ll call you, and if not I’ll bring any computers I find back to the office.”

“Okay.” Wolfe’s pale gaze remained on his face. “Take your time. If this is our man, we need to do everything by the book.”

He gave him a wave and headed for the door with Rowley on his heels. “By the book it is.”



* * *



The drive to Steve Rogers’ house took longer than usual. Traveling through town with the hustle and bustle of the rodeo crowd was bad enough but jaywalkers streamed across the road dodging vehicles as if they had a date with the Grim Reaper. They took no notice of the blue flashing lights on Kane’s SUV, and waved or grinned at him as if he had turned them on to join in the celebration. “Is it like this every year?”

“Every year?” Rowley flashed him a cheeky grin. “We’ll have a least another four events at the fairgrounds this summer. Right now, it’s tame; wait until later, they go a bit crazy after the dance and once they get the drink into them. The park becomes party central and Aunt Betty’s Café stays open twenty-four hours to keep the food coming.”

Kane hit the siren a couple of times to move a bunch of teenagers from blocking the road, and rather than quiver with fright at his stare of death, they made a cacophony of grunts. He shook his head, biting back the laughter threatening to break his austere fa?ade. “The Blackwater deputies are going to have their work cut out for them. I might see if I can borrow a few extra men from Durum County. With all of us covering the murder cases, we don’t have time for this shit.”

“Sometimes when it’s tough with murders and the like, I look forward to normal times like these.” Rowley’s mouth turned down at the corners. “How do you handle the nightmares?”

Kane fell back on his cover story; only Jenna and Wolfe knew the truth about his past. “I don’t have nightmares. At first, yeah, it was difficult working homicide and seeing up close what people are capable of doing. The kids’ murders got to me but when I shot my first killer, I sure as hell didn’t lose any sleep over it.”

He turned out of town and doused the lights as they hit Stanton Road ten minutes later. He turned into Rogers’ driveway and parked. “Full gear, same as before, we don’t want to contaminate a possible crime scene.” He slid from the car and opened the back door to pull out his bag. “Here, help yourself.”

Using Rogers’ keys, they entered the premises, and just in case Mrs. Rogers was at home and thought blue-suited aliens had invaded her house, he pushed the door open slowly. “Sheriff’s department. Are you there, Mrs. Rogers?”

At no response, he moved inside the family room, placed his bag on the floor, and glanced around. The room smelled like cleaning products and mildew. “The Chinese rug is missing. I remember seeing it when I came to interview him. It was bright red and blue, very distinctive.” He strolled across the room and flung open the drapes. “Turn on the lights, start this end of the room, and check every surface for blood spatter or hair. I’ll take a quick look through the house. If you see anything, mark it and photograph it. I’ll take samples when I return.”

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