“Any items jump out at you?”
“I’ve not had a chance to read all the interviews closely yet. There are at least fifty witness statements taken from people who either went to school with Kara Benson or who lived near the Benson house. Knox also spoke to several of Roger Benson’s business associates as well as friends of both his wife and Sharp. I’m hoping some kind of pattern materializes.”
“Can you give me the short version of what happened to Kara Benson?”
“She went to a Friday-night Halloween party, and sometime around midnight got into an argument with a female friend and left shortly afterward.” He detailed the search and finally the grim discovery of her body five days later.
Bowman’s fingers tightened around his mug. “How long had she been dead by then?”
“About a day.”
“For four days she was alive and unaccounted for.”
“Correct.”
“What was the condition of the body?”
“When found, she was fully clothed, and there were no signs of trauma on the body.”
“Do you have pictures?”
“I do.” He shoved out a sigh. “These were taken by the officer on the scene. They aren’t the best quality and don’t document the scene adequately, but I can see why Sharp can’t look at these. They would be disturbing for anyone attached to the deceased.”
The photos of Kara Benson showed her lying on her side by the road, wearing a short red dress. Her feet were bare. Many of the pictures were out of focus, but the ones that were readable showed her face turned from the camera.
“You said she was last seen at a Halloween party?” Bowman asked.
“That’s right.”
“Explains the outfit. Were there signs of rape?”
“There were indications of intercourse. Though there was no vaginal bruising or tearing to suggest force.”
“Was semen found?”
“Yes, and it was tested. But when the sample reached the lab, technicians determined it was compromised, so a full DNA panel couldn’t be obtained.”
Bowman stared at his pale face. “Hell of a tragedy for Sharp to deal with.”
Andrews was silent for a moment. “I still don’t want to discuss this case with him right now. I want to have specific questions before we talk.”
Bowman nodded toward a pile of handwritten papers. “These are the notes Knox made during his interviews?”
“Yes. He talked to dozens of people about Kara. Each time he focused on any stranger who might have been spotted with her. Nobody saw her leave with anyone.”
“Anything else?”
“There are still receipts to be catalogued, pictures to be examined, including a copy of her autopsy report, which I’ve yet to read.”
“I can read the witness files. You can read the autopsy report, and we can compare notes.”
“Not necessary. Better I process it all and give you a report. It won’t take much more time.”
“Understood,” Bowman said. “Knox gave these files to Sharp for a reason. Said he thought if there were any new clues to find, Sharp would uncover them.”
“The case might have been solved twelve years ago if Knox and his department hadn’t done such substandard work at Kara Benson’s crime scene.”
“Maybe that explains why he never let the case go. He felt guilty.”
“It’s been my experience that the real intentions are usually hidden under the surface.”
“You think Knox is hiding something?”
“Perhaps.”
“Knox lives close by. Talk to him.”
“As soon as I read the files today, he’s first on my list.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Always.”
When Tessa’s alarm went off at six in the morning, she hit “Snooze.” She was still struggling with jet lag, and it had been a long time since she’d been this tired. The late night at the crime scene hadn’t helped. To compound the situation, she’d dreamed again about Dakota, the man who was never far from her even if she put thousands of miles between them.
In the dream she’d had so many times, she was standing at the stove of their Libby Avenue apartment and stirring tomato sauce for their dinner. Pasta boiled on a back burner.
Dakota always moved so quietly, she often didn’t hear him approach. And when he wrapped strong arms around her waist, she’d started. “Damn it, Dakota. I’ll spill the sauce.”
A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat as he kissed the crook of her neck. His hands slid along the sides of her sundress and then up under the thin cotton, caressing her thighs’ bare skin.
Her breath hissed through clenched teeth as she tried to focus on her task. His hand skimmed her belly to the front of her panties and teased the nest of curls. Hot energy raced through her blood, and her appetite for food vanished. Letting the wooden spoon drop into the pot, she shut off the stove and pressed her bottom against his erection.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered close to her ear.
“You make me crazy.” From the beginning, he’d known how to touch her body and make it react in ways she’d never imagined.
He pulled her away from the stove and lifted her up onto the kitchen table they’d just bought a couple of weeks ago. As he stared at her, he pushed her legs open, then freed himself from his jogging shorts. He shoved her moist panties aside and pulled her close to the table’s edge. With one thrust he was deep inside her, moving both her and the table with determined lunges.
She arched her back to take the full penetration, and he leaned forward and sucked her breast through the dress fabric. Her fingers balled into tight fists as the tempo built. He liked taking her to the brink and then easing up. She whimpered his name, begged him to continue, and then he licked her until she came.
Finally, when the last spasm shuddered through her body, he slid inside her moist center. “Watching you lose control makes me so hot,” he whispered against her ear. He was never in a rush as he thrust in and out of her, holding her face in his hands as he growled her name until he came.
Tessa’s alarm went off a second time, and this time she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, cradling her head in her hands. She glanced at the empty side of her bed, feeling hungry for him and aware she was alone.
She’d wanted to kiss him for weeks and had hoped for more of a reaction from him. She could feel he wanted her, but Dakota had held himself in check and detached as stone. “I’m not finished with you, Dakota Sharp.”
She placed one foot in front of the other until she reached the shower. Turning on the hot spray, she let the water rush over her and wash away some of the fatigue. A half hour later, she was out of the shower, her damp hair curled into a knot, and wearing clean scrubs. She made herself coffee and poured it in a travel mug before grabbing her purse, backpack, and keys.