The squad room resembled a horror flick, with zombies dominating the room and halls. It had been a long couple of days for everyone.
Jill Gates’s parents had arrived from Huntsville. They called and talked with Taylor from their downtown hotel, which had luckily made it through the storm unscathed. She told them they had found a body. Jill’s father immediately made the short trip back to Huntsville, retrieved his daughter’s dental records, and had driven the radiographs back to Nashville. He and his wife had taken Taylor’s advice to stay put in their hotel until some sort of identification had been made. They’d agreed and seemed rather calm for the circumstances. Jill’s mother was absolutely convinced that the body they had found at the church was not her daughter. She claimed she would know in her heart if her Jilly had died, and she just didn’t think it was her child dead in the morgue.
Taylor didn’t try to dissuade her. Let Sam do a positive ID, then they could deal with the fallout.
Lincoln had been on the computers all night, searching through ViCAP and the regional missing person databases while Taylor and Baldwin oversaw the investigation at the church. He greeted them with sleep in his eyes, his suit rumpled and hair flattened on one side from where he had rested his head in his hand for the better part of the night.
“You find anything?” he asked.
“Nothing yet. There are missing person flyers all over town for Jill. Someone mounted a pretty big campaign. How about you?”
“We’ve been getting calls all night about possible missing women,” Lincoln said. “Four different women, three of them Vandy students. We had to chase them all down. Two were from parents who hadn’t talked to their daughters in a couple of days. Happily, both of them called back to say they’d gotten in touch. One was a roommate who’d gotten concerned when her friend didn’t come home, but that one showed up drunk and sound asleep at the Pi Kappa Alpha house this morning.”
“That takes care of the three Vandy girls. Who’s the fourth?”
“Pro who calls herself Mona Lisa. She’s working with that program over at St. Augustine’s, what is it, Magdalene House? She’s got some sort of medical condition and hasn’t shown up for her treatments in a week. Magdalene’s worried she may have gone back on the street. I threw it to Vice. They’ll be able to track her down better than we can.”
“Good call. What else?”
“Other than our MP report rate is skyrocketing? I guess you haven’t seen the news yet this morning, or the paper? Mayfield’s on another witch hunt.” With that warning, Lincoln threw her a copy of the front page of The Tennessean. She saw the huge headline, groaned, and settled in to read, with Baldwin looking over her shoulder.
Metro Police Baffled at Murder Spree
BY LEE MAYFIELD, CRIME REPORTER
Sources within the Metro Nashville Police Department confirmed early this morning that the body found last evening in the burned-out husk of St. Catherine’s Catholic Church in West End are the remains of Vanderbilt student Jill Gates. Gates was reported missing only yesterday. Despite the attempts of the Metro Police and the lead investigator, Lieutenant Taylor Jackson, to find her before she suffered the fate of students Shelby Kincaid and Jordan Blake, the University Killer has struck again.
The story continued, but Taylor threw the paper on her desk without reading the rest of it. She started swearing under her breath. “Of all the damn fool things to print above the fold, for God’s sake. That woman is going to be the death of me. Is she sleeping with Franklin now? I swear to God, I’m going to kill that man with my bare hands if I find out he’s even helped her across the street. The ‘University Killer’? Who decided to give him a nickname? I’m going to charge that woman with obstruction one of these days, watch me...”
Baldwin was enjoying the rant. “I assume you have a problem going with this Lee Mayfield?”
Taylor huffed out a breath. “No. Well, yes. I mean, it’s her problem, not mine. A few years back, she misquoted me in an article that nearly got us sued. She had to print a huge retraction. She’s had it in for me ever since. She’s been eating up the Martin case. Tearing me to pieces for months.”
Fitz had entered the room as she was finishing her tirade. He patted her on the arm. “Don’tcha worry about it, darlin’. She’s a full-blown, grade-A idiot, and everyone knows it. Just let it go.”
He turned the volume up on the TV. The Channel 5 anchor wore a knowing smile. Taylor was struck at how the media always seemed to enjoy reporting on a tragedy. She turned away, fuming, but looked back when she heard what the anchor was saying.