The Running Girls(28)

Laurie set about securing the scene as she waited for backup to arrive. She kept her distance from Grace. It was clearly the girl, and getting close to confirm her identity would only risk destroying potentially crucial evidence.

It was a surreal few minutes. It felt like time had slowed within the bubble of her vision as she heard the emergency vehicles arrive, and the teams followed the path she’d taken. She had seen dead bodies countless times before but had never come across one in such an odd way.

It was Lieutenant Filmore who emerged first from the barnyard grass, bulldozing his way through it. “What the hell?” he said by way of greeting, sweat pouring from his shiny scalp.

Laurie pointed behind her. “Grace Harrington.”

Filmore stepped over and took little more than a cursory glance before returning to Laurie’s side. “You OK? How did you know?”

Only the words hunch and gut feeling came to mind, so Laurie nearly chose to say nothing. But she trusted Filmore and could see no reason not to come clean. As the CSIs began working on the scene, she told him about the similarities between the Annie Randall investigation and Grace’s disappearance.

“That is a hell of a leap,” said Filmore.

Laurie couldn’t tell if he was suspicious or impressed. “I got lucky. Shame it was too late.”

Filmore sucked in a deep breath, as if he was savoring the sea air, his jacket tight against his stocky frame. “Murder weapon?” he asked, glancing at the red line along Grace’s neck.

Laurie shook her head. “No sign of it, but I can’t claim to have combed the area.”

“We need to keep everyone away from her until CSI gets here.” Then, without segue: “I understand you’ve been to see Frank Randall since his return from prison.” He was staring with an intensity that dared her to ask him how he knew.

Not that she needed to ask. “Warren,” she said, her grandfather-in-law being the only person other than David who knew she’d been to see him.

Filmore continued staring at her, his bushy eyebrows inching up his forehead again.

“Yes, I went to see him. He’s an ex-con returning to the area.”

“And he’s your father-in-law.”

“He didn’t do this, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she heard herself say.

“Is that right? Sure looks like he did.”

“You haven’t seen him. He doesn’t have the strength to carry off something like that. He’s a tired, scared old man now.”

Filmore squinted. “He may be tired and old, but we can’t ignore the connections. The bodies have been staged identically.”

“Just telling you how I see it, Lieutenant.”

“I appreciate your opinion, but we’ll need to take him in for questioning. As soon as the press gets word of this, it won’t take them long to piece things together.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“This changes everything, of course. We’ll need to cancel the press conference and . . .” Filmore was clearly alluding to the fact that Sandra and Glen Harrington would need to be informed of their daughter’s murder. His unsubtle pause suggesting Laurie be the one to break it to them.

“I’ll go there now,” she said.

Filmore nodded, wiping beads of moisture that had reached his nose.

“And I would appreciate it if I can be the one to bring Frank Randall in for questioning.”

Filmore pursed his lips, indicating he was thinking. “He’s a family member.”

“Hardly, Lieutenant.”

“You’re married to his son, Laurie. We can’t risk being accused of bias, one way or another. I’m happy for you to remain in charge, but Remi should bring him in.”

“He’s in Houston.”

Filmore scratched his neck. “Well, we can’t delay. We’ll have to send Rodriquez and Abbey.”

Laurie lowered her eyes. She trusted both detectives, but worried about how Frank would respond, which only served to support Filmore’s theory that she was too close. “Yes, Lieutenant,” she said.

As first on scene, Laurie would usually be required to remain, but Filmore’s presence eased her departure. She took one last, involuntary glance at Grace before leaving, again noting the “running” positioning of the body, as the CSIs carefully photographed and videoed the scene, taking samples from the surrounding areas before they would even start to examine the body. At some point, Sandra and Glen would be asked to identify their daughter, and though it was of the smallest mercies, Laurie was glad that scavengers hadn’t had time to destroy Grace’s features.

She called Rodriquez as she pulled away from the scene and instructed him to go easy on Frank. “Wait for me before you conduct the interview,” she told him.

As she drove back to the Harringtons’, she called Remi and told him everything that had happened. She was grateful when he didn’t question her motives for going to the scene in the first place.

“You want me to come back?” he said.

“Have you finished what needs to be done there?”

“I have a few more people to speak to.”

“Do we have a sighting for Glen Harrington on the night of Grace’s disappearance?”

“He left work on the Tuesday at 3 p.m. Not that unusual, apparently. He often worked from his apartment.”