Everything You Want Me to Be(22)

“I would say the blow to the chest came first and she either didn’t have the time or the inclination to fight before it was delivered. The slashes to the face were postmortem.”

“How can you tell?”

“No struggle. The trauma to the face wasn’t deep enough to cause her to lose consciousness, so it would have elicited a defensive response.”

“So it was quick.”

“As quick as any of us can die.”

Well, that was something. At least I could tell Bud that. “Anything else?”

“Yes. There were traces of semen on her underwear.”

“Jesus Christ.” I swung over to the side of the highway and hit the brakes. A few cars swerved around me, slowing down like I might ticket them for speeding. I rubbed my forehead, thinking it through.

“Someone raped her before killing her?”

“It doesn’t appear to be rape. I noted some mild abrasion. Nothing more serious.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It was aggressive, but probably consensual sex.”

“And the semen survived the water?” I asked.

“Only her legs appeared to be submerged. Her torso was dry, otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to observe any sexual activity.”

“Can you tell when it happened?”

“It could have been anytime within a few hours of death, based on the abrasion.”

Had to have been after the play, then. Either Tommy wasn’t telling all about parking with her at the beach or she’d gone off to meet a lover, an aggressive lover, who might have done her in.

“Well, we’ve got some DNA now.”

“That you do.”

“Good. I’ve got at least one suspect to test against.”

“The Hennepin County crime lab can do the comparison. It could take weeks, depending on their wait list. Have him come in to Mayo to submit the specimen.”

“He’ll be there in the morning.” I’d make sure of that.

After I hung up with Fran, I stared at the sky for a minute, took a deep breath, and then continued out to Bud’s.

There were trucks and cars littered all over the driveway, family pouring in to help out any little way they could. The minister was there and all the church ladies. I found Bud out in the barn with some of the men. They were talking about helping him get his corn in this year, and weren’t taking no for an answer. I nodded at each one as they filed out, leaving Bud sitting on the arm of a combine, staring at the floor. I didn’t ask him how he was doing. I didn’t push my sympathies on him like another load I expected him to carry. There wasn’t anything I could do except take him inside and sit him and Mona down in their bedroom away from all the hens and tell them matter-of-factly everything Fran had said. That Hattie didn’t feel a thing. It was as quick as falling down. That she wouldn’t have had two seconds to be scared.

Then I told them about the sex.

“What?” Bud shot up, looking like he wanted to take a swing at me. I hadn’t even mentioned the aggressive part.

“God damn that Kinakis kid. God damn him.” Bud wasn’t in any mood to think beyond that, so I turned to Mona.

“Was she seeing anybody besides Tommy Kinakis?”

She shook her head once, a tight denial. “She’d been seeing him since before the holidays.”

While Bud stormed around the room, probably planning Tommy’s death, I sat on the bed next to Mona. She was working her hands one over the other, staring hollowly at the remains of the table she’d fallen into that morning.

“Did you know she was having sex, Mona?”

Bud swung around, all ears now.

“No.” Steady tears leaked into the crows feet around her eyes. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. “No, I didn’t know that. I thought there was something she wasn’t telling me, but I didn’t think it was to do with sex. Hattie was never starry-eyed about a boy in her whole life. Honestly, I never thought she liked Tommy that much. I couldn’t pin down exactly why she was dating him.”

“That kid’s got some answering to do.”

“Hold on there, Bud. We’re going to talk to Tommy again in the morning, and have him submit a DNA sample to test against what we found on Hattie.”

“You’re sure it wasn’t rape?” Mona whispered.

“It wasn’t rape. The medical examiner was positive. Don’t be thinking that, either one of you.”

Neither of them seemed able to speak anymore.

“I’m going to need to look through Hattie’s room. If you remember anyone else she was close to or in contact with, call me right away. Doesn’t matter what time.”

Mona resumed crying in earnest now and Bud went over to her. I left them alone and went to Hattie’s bedroom upstairs, without a word to the hens hovering by the kitchen doorway.

I was surprised there wasn’t much to see. A twin bed, dresser, and desk. She didn’t have posters splashed all over like most teenagers, just one picture—framed—of the New York City skyline above her bed. Her closet was about as messy as you’d expect but it was all clothes and purses holding lip gloss, bobby pins, movie ticket stubs, and loose change. Nothing that helped. Her desk seemed about the most personal thing in the room. The drawers were full of magazine pictures of subway stations, neon signs, and women walking down city sidewalks with little rat dogs tucked in their purses. I couldn’t find a diary or a journal, which struck me as odd. Hattie’d seemed like the type to keep one. Her laptop had a lot of stuff on it though and maybe we’d find something there. Jake could dig into those files with his computer tricks.