He pulled the second fat case out of the box, checked the remaining cases to be certain they were still sealed, and ran his fingertips along the bottom of the box to check for any loose papers. All clean. He set the lid on the box and pushed it away, then sat down to open the second packet, placing plenty of space between himself and Mercy. Every piece of paper should be labeled with a case number, but he wasn’t taking any chances on mixing things up between the two.
Gwen Vargas had been twenty-two. Truman skimmed through her book, noting that Mercy had been right that she’d been strangled and raped. Photos of the scene showed a broken hand mirror on a small table in Gwen’s bedroom, and shattered mirrors in her bathroom and her parents’ bathroom.
Why?
According to the officer’s notes, Gwen had been home alone. Her father and mother found her when they returned home late that night from a rodeo. Her boyfriend had been at the same rodeo and was alibied by several witnesses. The officer had written that the boyfriend’s grief appeared sincere. Truman looked at the officer’s signature and smiled. Ben Cooley. At least he had one person he could ask about the investigation. He flipped through the book. Interviews. Pictures. Outside of the boyfriend, there didn’t seem to be any suspects.
No other suspects?
“Anything jump out at you?” Mercy asked, her gaze still on Jennifer’s murder book.
“Not yet. Where was Jennifer killed?”
“Her apartment. Her roommate had moved out two weeks before.”
“How many broken mirrors?” he asked.
Mercy flipped a few pages. “Four. Two bathrooms and two other small mirrors in the apartment.”
“What’d he strangle her with?”
“His hands,” Mercy said shortly.
“Same happened with this one. Left naked?”
“Yes.”
Truman took some time to carefully read the fingerprint report. “This fingerprint report is no help. And it’s been noted that there’s no crossover with Jennifer’s case. Both murders had several unidentifiable prints, but they weren’t present at both scenes.”
Mercy nodded. “But so much else is the same. It must have been done by the same person. This autopsy report says there was no semen to examine from the rape. He must have worn a condom.”
“I saw the same results in Gwen’s report. Someone came prepared. I wonder if the police looked into other rapes or attempted rapes in the surrounding areas.”
Mercy looked up, her green eyes wide. “Lord, I hope they did. That seems like a basic step.”
“I’m sure that’s noted in here somewhere. I spotted the signature of one of my men in this book. He’s out of town right now, but I can call him if we have questions. He’s pretty sharp for seventy. I have no doubt he remembers these cases.”
“I suspect everyone in town remembers these cases,” said Mercy. “Nothing rocked the community like these girls’ deaths did.”
“And still unsolved after all these years. I assume there are no obvious suspects in your notes?” Truman asked quietly.
Mercy shook her head.
He flipped to the back of Gwen’s book. “I don’t see any follow-up records. How about yours?”
Mercy scanned through her book. “None. No one did anything? That’s unheard of. Someone should have talked to the people involved every few years to see if they remembered anything new. What about the families? Surely they hounded the police to not give up!” She gave Truman a stricken look, and he was surprised by the dark circles under her eyes. “Why? Why no follow-up?”
Defensiveness rose in his chest. A need to stick up for his department even though he’d been in charge only six months. Instead he shrugged. “Few man-hours. Other investigations. Turnover.”
“Unacceptable,” muttered Mercy, looking back at the senior picture of Jennifer Sanders. “Someone should be fired.”
“Ben Cooley is the only one left from that era. Hell if I’m firing him. He’s been invaluable to me.” An image of the older officer’s kind smile popped into Truman’s head. “He’s not one to take initiative, but he’s incredibly solid and excellent at following orders. Very thorough.”
“The first thing we need to do is follow up with the people who were close to these girls,” stated Mercy.
“You’re here to focus on the three current murders,” Truman pointed out. “Outside of the broken mirrors, I don’t see anything to connect these to your current cases.” His internal fire to solve his uncle’s murder was driving him to keep the FBI on track. So far Mercy appeared to be a solid investigator, but she was getting distracted by history.
Maybe I should be dealing with her partner.
He studied the woman at the table. Was she too close to the old cases? She’d been here two days and already looked exhausted. Had the FBI sent the right person to help solve these crimes?
“I know,” she said. “Eddie is going over the Enoch Finch case with Deschutes County today. I’m currently waiting to hear more from the medical examiner about Ned Fahey, and one of our analysts is searching places where the stolen weapons might have been sold.”