Bring Me Flowers (Detectives Kane and Alton #2)

“And nobody would think a thing about seeing a sweaty hiker coming out of the forest.” Rowley slowed his pace. “Whoa, on the right under the leaves—is that a condom wrapper?”

Kane edged his large frame around Rowley and crouched down to look. “Yeah, it certainly is, and there is more than one concealed under leaves. I’ll get my gloves.” He stood, removed his backpack, and went through the pockets. “Got them, and by the look of them they haven’t been here long. Of course, they could belong to any of the kids who make out here.” He dropped the foil wrappers into an evidence bag. “I doubt these are his, from what we’ve seen so far, he is too smart to leave DNA evidence. If they are his what did he do with the used ones?”

Kane did a visual scan of the area but found nothing disturbed. “He would drop them and the wrappers into the river; it flows fast, and apart from washing away any evidence they would be carried miles away. My guess is the wrappers belong to someone else.”

He moved ahead and the sound of the river became louder with each step. He slowed his pace as he caught glimpses of sparkling water through the trees. “Okay, if we assume the killer left the clearing using this trail, we need to search for clues to trace his movements in and around the clearing.”

“The victim had blunt force trauma to the back of her skull, which would indicate he came up behind her, knocked her senseless, then dragged her onto the riverbank.” Wolfe moved into the perimeter of the clearing and turned slowly as his pale eyes scanned the area. “The main track to the river from the clearing splits into two. I suggest we split up. You start there and take a path each. I’ll follow this trail and see if I can find any evidence.”

Kane ducked down the main path from the clearing. The leaf-strewn pathway gave way to fine rocks and sand, offering no trace of footprints. He meticulously checked the bushes along the way for any hair caught on branches and underneath for evidence. He berated himself on the way for not checking the area at the initial visit, but collecting the evidence in the immediate area around the crime scene had been a priority. He heard Wolfe call his name and retraced his steps, meeting him at the edge of the clearing. “I haven’t found a thing.”

“I have.” Wolfe led the way along the narrow trail.

The path opened out to display a fallen log, and by the indent in the ground, locals had used it as a seat for some time. “What did you find?”

“Here.” Wolfe pointed to a piece of torn paper with a green brand mark. “That is from a skein of twine, the plastic type. I used the same brand to tie down the load on my trailer recently.” He collected the paper and placed it inside an evidence bag. “It seemed irrelevant until I noticed the marks on the trees on opposite sides of the trail.” Walking ahead, he indicated to the small scrapes on the bark of two trees. “I would say the rope was tied between the two trees, and at neck height if we’re talking about Felicity. The twine is dark green, and if someone was moving along here at a jog they wouldn’t notice it until they ran into it.”

Kane examined the evidence and crouched to examine the ground. “The gravel has been disturbed, scuffed-up in places. A struggle took place here.” He stood slowly, peering at the bushes thick along each side of the trail. “There, that is hair. Long and brown, we have to assume it belongs to the victim.”

“Right.” Wolfe snagged the hair and secured it in a bag. “We can assume Felicity jogged down this path, hit the cord, and fell into the bushes. The killer struck her over the head, rendering her dizzy, but she remained conscious—the autopsy revealed the blow wasn’t hard enough to knock her out. There are no drag marks, so he must have carried her to the riverbank.”

Concerned he might disturb evidence, Kane stepped slowly forward, checking ahead before each step. The river glistened before him. Opposite, a wall of rock kept the small, secluded beach from prying eyes. As he moved onto the small beach, he noticed a spot of blood on a stone and disturbance in the sand. “How the hell did we miss this?”

“That’s where he raped her and I bet he had her on her knees with a knife to her throat. He nicked her to pacify her and probably told her once he had finished he would let her go.” Wolfe flicked him a look of stone-cold rage then crawled around on hands and knees, checking every inch of the area.

“Over here.” Rowley’s voice came from further down the small beach.

Circling the area with care, Kane glanced back at Wolfe. “Grab some photographs. I’ll go and see what he has found.”

“Just a minute.” Wolfe indicated ahead with his chin. “Those marks look like two sets of footprints. I’d say she got away from him and ran from here along the water’s edge.” He pointed to a raw patch on a nearby tree. “After he’d killed her, it looks like he swept the area with a tree branch. He is smart and probably chucked the branch into the river, walked along the water’s edge, then went through the forest and back to the trail we used to get here.”

“So, we need to find the spot where he killed her.”

“It would help.” Wolfe gave him a grim half-smile. “But I’d bet he attacked her in the water. He has done this before and knew he needed to minimize blood spill, which means he was concerned someone would see him covered in blood. I bet he lives in town and is known locally.”

“Then he travels a lot, because we both know he has killed before and often.” Kane headed toward Rowley, keeping away from the disguised footprints. He constantly scanned the area and reached Rowley moments later. “What do you have?”

“Fabric by the look of it, and I think I can see a boot in the water but it’s a way from the bank.” Rowley’s face had paled. “It’s unusual for anything to remain that far out in the water for long; the flow is very fast in the middle, and deep. When the kids swim here, they keep to the inlet further down.”

“Where the footprints led from?”

“Yeah, that’s a shallow area but as you can see it all joins together. It would be easy to drag a body from the river’s edge into the inlet and carry it to the flat rock.” Rowley swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Looking at the scrap of cloth, if it is part of Felicity’s clothing, the killer must have cut off her clothes—this doesn’t look torn.”

Unease grabbed Kane’s gut as he bent to check out the blue cloth with a sequin attached. It did not take a forensic scientist to tell him someone had used a hunting knife to hack through the material. The sequin could have formed a part of a butterfly and the color was a match. “Photograph it and bag it.” He straightened and tossed Rowley a pair of gloves. “Where is the boot?”

“See the black rock sticking out of the water. Look to the left at the bottom.” Rowley pointed to the river. “Do you want me to go collect it?”

“Nah. I’ll do it.” Kane headed to a large boulder upstream, checked around for evidence, and finding nothing of interest stripped to his underpants. He waded in then dived under the fast-flowing river and did a visual scan along the swirling riverbed. His ability to remain underwater for considerable time came in handy and he reached the black rock with only resurfacing once.

Blinding pain from the cold water zipped across his head but, determined, he pushed on. He found the boot, pink with sparkles, and his stomach gave a twist of anguish. He climbed onto the rock and tossed the boot like a quarterback to Rowley, who caught it with ease. After doing a reconnaissance of the riverbed for some distance in the direction of the rushing water he discovered a second boot, but all other traces of Felicity Parker had vanished.





Twenty-One



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