I See You (Criminal Profiler #2)(63)

But until she knew where Skylar Foster was, she would tread carefully. Foster already had a lawyer and, at this point, was a desperate man with little to lose.

Vaughan approached the body and crouched like a lion stalking prey. He removed a pen from his breast pocket and pushed back the collar of Hadley’s workout jacket so that they both had a clear view of the knife wound that sliced directly across the jugular vein.

“Foster said the assailant had a knife to Hadley’s throat,” she said.

Thick, dried brown blood caked her throat, making it impossible to see if there were any small nicks on Hadley’s neck. All that was visible now was a large gaping wound that appeared to have been slashed in an upward motion.

“Any word on the Quick-DNA testing on the blood in the Foster house?” Zoe asked.

Vaughan rose and called the forensic department, nodding, listening, and thanking the person on the other end. “The blood in the master bathroom and in the Lexus is Hadley Foster’s.”

“Any sign of Mark’s blood in either location?” she asked.

“So far, his was only found by the front door,” he said. “But that could change. It’s going to take weeks to test it all.”

“What about in the trail leading to the garage?” Zoe asked.

“All Hadley.”

The end corner of a terry cloth bath towel caught her attention. It matched the hand towels in the Fosters’ master bathroom. “The towel looks as if it were used to stop the bleeding. Why would the assailant try to stop the bleeding?”

“Maybe Skylar tried to save her mother. Perhaps the assailant wanted to contain the blood until he disposed of her.”

“Mark Foster never said their attacker or Skylar ran into the bathroom for a towel.”

Vaughan’s eyes glinted with skepticism. “He could have forgotten the detail in all the confusion.”

“Do you really believe that?” she asked.

“My job is to play devil’s advocate.”

“If this was done by a stranger like this Mr. Fix It, and Hadley knew her daughter was in the house, why didn’t she fight her attacker?” Zoe countered.

“Maybe she was scared. Maybe she froze. Maybe it all happened so fast she never saw it coming.”

“It’s all possible.”

“And then her killer laid her down on the back seat of the Lexus and, if we can believe Mark Foster, had Skylar drive them here.”

“We need to find Mr. Fix It.” Zoe noticed the marbling on Hadley’s chest. When the heart stopped pumping, the blood pooled at the lowest point in the body. If Hadley had been faceup—as she might have been if she had still been alive—her back would have been black and blue. In this case, it was her chest. “He tossed her in the back seat facedown because he knew she was dead by the time they got her to the car.”

Zoe lifted her gaze to the creek that wound through the park. On the other side was a thick stand of trees and a couple of picnic tables. “How long do you think she’s been near the water?”

“Twenty-four hours plus,” Vaughan replied.

“You need to have some of your officers search the waters close to the shore. The placement of Hadley’s body looks rushed. And if I were a killer and needed to get rid of a knife, I might be tempted to throw it in the creek in the hopes it would get carried away.”

“I’ll have them on it right now.”

She opened her social media apps on her phone and checked Skylar Foster’s accounts. There had still been no activity since late Monday night, eight hours before the reported stabbing.

“Is there any sign of the girl in the park?” Zoe asked.

“Not yet, but they’re bringing in a cadaver dog to search the entire area.”

“How did he get away from the park with Skylar?” Zoe asked. “He could have dragged her, but she doesn’t strike me as the kind of kid that wouldn’t fight back.”

“Maybe it was Mr. Fix It,” he said. “We know they were in communication. Maybe she got in his car willingly.”

There were many fragments that simply did not fit. “Maybe.”

The two watched as the forensic team took pictures, made sketches, and then lifted the body and placed it on a tarp. Rigor mortis had stiffened the limbs, and the belly was beginning to bloat.

The technician searched Hadley’s pockets, finding loose change in the right pocket and a single house key in the left.

“She had just gotten back from her run, but she didn’t shower,” Zoe said. “The bathroom was so clean because she’d not used it yet, and neither had Foster.”

The autopsy technicians laid a body bag beside the remains and unzipped it. Working in tandem, the two men lifted the body into the plastic bag as a forensic tech took pictures.

“Before this leaks to the press, we need to inform Mark Foster we’ve found his wife,” Zoe said. “I want to see his reaction when he receives the news.”

“We better go now, because this isn’t going to stay a secret long,” Vaughan said.

The two drove to the Pollard house, parked, and approached the front door. Vaughan rang the bell, and almost immediately, footsteps sounded in the hallway. They both stood back from the door, eyeing the peephole and ensuring whoever was looking out from the other side could plainly see them. The door latch slid back, and a dead bolt turned before the door swung open.