She was an experienced detective, fourteen years on the job with Metro, so she knew better than to jump to conclusions, but if Go-Go was with the protesters, and had been stabbed, chances were she’d been murdered by one of her fellow demonstrators. And that news was going to go national.
As she parked, she took in the scene, one she’d been privy to too many times. Sixth Avenue was blockaded between Church and Charlotte, blue and white lights flashing crazily upon the concrete buildings, reflecting off the black glass of the Tennessee Performing Arts Center. Thankfully TPAC didn’t have anything tonight, the building’s lobby was dark and gloomy. She could see the focus of attention midway up the street, just below the steps to the Plaza.
“Lieutenant!”
Tim Davis, the head of Metro’s Crime Scene unit, waved to Taylor. She waved back and headed his way, watching the crowd as she walked down Sixth. The area had been cordoned off, that’s what Marcus had seen driving home, but a large crowd of people had gathered on either side of the crime scene. Yellow tape headed them off, but frightened eyes peered down from the Plaza, and across from TPAC a small horde of people had formed, staring curiously up the street in hopes of seeing something tawdry.
Tim was overseeing the evidence gathering. She was glad to see him on duty. Tim was meticulous, and if there was evidence to find, he’d make sure it was bagged and tagged.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Marcus told you it was Go-Go?”
“Yeah. Damn shame. What’s the evidence tell us?”
“Single stab wound to the chest. I’ve been collecting everything around, but the ground’s littered with crap from the protesters. Messy bunch of people.” His nose wrinkled in disapproval. Tim liked things straight and clean. It’s what made him so good at spotting objects that were out of place.
“We’ve got cameras here, don’t we?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a call into TPAC, their security footage will give us the best chance of seeing what happened.”
“Good. Let me know if you find anything else. Is that Keri working the body?”
“Yeah. Sure do miss Sam.”
“You and me both, my friend.” Sam was Dr. Samantha Owens, Taylor’s best friend and the former head of Forensic Medical, the lead medical examiner for the Mid-State of Tennessee. She’d recently moved to Washington, D.C., and Taylor missed her dreadfully. She understood. God knew she understood. If she’d been faced with the kind of loss Sam experienced, she’d have run away too. But she couldn’t help missing her like hell.
“Have you heard from her?”
“I did, a couple of days ago. She’s doing well. Found a place she likes.”
“Good. Next time you talk to her, give her my best. I’m going to start running some of the evidence we collected. I’ll shout if we get anything that looks relevant.”
Taylor glanced at her watch – 5:15 p.m. The chief would be down here soon, she needed to hurry up and get him some info he could use for a presser. The chief did so love to be on air, and if they timed it right, he could make the 6:00 news.
Keri McGee was on her knees next to the body. Taylor joined her.
“Yo,” Keri said.
“Yo back. What do you have for me?”
“A whole lot of nothing. No trauma to the body, outside of the stab wound, of course. I’m about finished here, actually. She’s only been dead for a little while, no more than an hour. She was found quickly. Was she living on the streets?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Newspaper in her shoes and socks. They do that for warmth. And she hasn’t bathed in a while. Not that that’s any real indication, a bunch of these folks have been camping down here for days.”
Taylor took her own inventory of Go-Go. That the girl hadn’t bathed recently was quite evident. She looked like she’d been living rough: her skin was brown with dirt, she had no jewelry on, no watch, just a small red thread tied around her right wrist. From her matted hair to her grubby clothes, Go-Go was downright filthy. She didn’t look much like the other protesters, who despite their attempts to blend in still glowed with health.
“I want to talk to whoever found her.”
“Over there,” Keri said, pointing at a young man who was hovering nearby. “I’m about ready to take her back to the morgue. Fox will autopsy her in the morning, along with everyone else we loaded up on today.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
Taylor took her turn with the kid who’d found the body next. He couldn’t be a day over twenty, with a snippet of a beard, dark hair and dark eyes, shoulders hunched into a hooded The North Face fleece. Taylor appreciated the irony. The kid was protesting capitalism wearing a two hundred fifty dollar jacket. His face was streaked with tears.
“Hey there. I’m Lieutenant Jackson, homicide. What’s your name?”
“Derek Rucka.”
“How do you know Go-Go?”
“She’s my girlfriend.”
“Really? You’re dating? She doesn’t seem to be in very good shape for a girl with a man.”
He looked down. “She was my girlfriend. We broke up a few weeks ago. She took off, and I hadn’t seen her until today. I was down here with the gang and I saw her smoking on the steps. We chatted.”