“That all the information was spread out so that it could be photographed. That his killer had gone through the car to try to get a lead on what was happening in the case, what was happening to those bones.”
She didn’t speak for a moment, trying to rid herself of a sudden chill. “I suppose it’s a possibility. If you had suspicions, did you have forensics go over the car for trace evidence? Fingerprints? DNA?”
“Of course I did. That’s why I didn’t call you right away. It took time to get the results.”
“Which were?”
“Zero. Nothing.” He added harshly, “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not right. It just means he cleaned up after himself.”
“And left those dossiers in full view for you to draw conclusions.”
“Maybe he heard me coming back and panicked.”
“You didn’t draw me a picture of a killer who would panic.”
“Or maybe he left them so that you’d be the one to panic and refuse to do the reconstruction.”
“That’s more likely.” She paused. “And that’s another reason why you didn’t call right away. You wanted to give me time to work on Jenny before you scared me off.”
“Jenny?”
“I had to call her something. It’s the way I work.”
“Jenny … Yeah, that kind of suits her.”
“I’m glad you think so. I have no idea what suits her.”
But Jenny had known.
Jenny. I … think … my name is Jenny.
“You’re working on her?”
“Yes, I’m doing fairly well.”
“When will you be finished?”
“I don’t do estimates.”
“I believe it would be safer for you if you’d do it very quickly.”
“Because you think that your killer is going to go after me because I’m working to put a face on his victim?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re the only one who thinks that.”
“I sent that skull to you,” he said harshly. “I’m responsible. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”
She was silent. “I agree. It’s between the two of us. And Jenny, of course.” And Nalchek was in pain and still trying to do what he thought was right. She was beginning to like John Nalchek. “And I’ll get you a face for Jenny as quickly as I can. It shouldn’t be too long.”
“Thanks,” he said tersely. “And you won’t take any chances?”
“I won’t take chances,” she assured him. “And I’ll tell Joe Quinn what you’ve said if it will make you feel better. I’m sure that dossier you have on me stressed Joe’s importance in my life. He’s very good at eliminating threats, real or otherwise.”
“I told Ron that Quinn was tough.” He paused. “If you need me, I’ll come there. Just call me. I don’t like the idea that bastard could be on his way to you right now.”
“Likewise,” she said dryly. “But once I finish the reconstruction and get it back to you, I should be safe. Then it’s up to you to find Jenny’s murderer.” She was looking out at the lake, and it seemed colder than a moment ago, the shadows of the trees darker, more threatening. If the deputy’s death had happened early last night, then he might not be on his way to her, he might be here.
“Good night, Sheriff.” She moved toward the door, and the next moment, she was inside the house. “I’ll keep you posted.” She hung up.
She drew a deep breath, locked the door, and set the alarm.
Whoever had killed that deputy wasn’t stupid. The threat had been there, and it was aimed at her. There might not have been anyone out there in the woods tonight, but there might be tomorrow. Or any other night while she was working on Jenny.
That was the key. Jenny. As she’d told Nalchek, once she was done with the reconstruction, the threat was gone.
So do her job and let Nalchek do his.
As quickly and efficiently as possible.
She tightened the belt of her robe and went to get a cup of coffee.
“You didn’t win, Jenny.” She took her coffee over to the worktable. “But I’m going to work very hard, and you’d better help me. I’ve got to find out what you look like.” She sipped her coffee and looked down at the skull. “You’ve already caused a good deal of trouble and hurt. Let’s get this done.”
No answer.