“Witnesses to what?” Jenkins gave her a look to freeze hell, and placing his briefcase on the floor, he sat in the chair before her desk. “I am very close to making a complaint about harassment, but I doubt you would take much notice so I intend to take my complaint straight to the mayor.”
“I see.” Jenna met his gaze and collected the copies of the statements from the folder on her desk. “Three girls have been brutally murdered: Felicity Parker, Joanne Blunt, and Kate Smith. These witnesses—and I might add here that Kate Smith was a witness and I have her signed statement, which as she is also a victim is suspicious in itself.” She took a breath. “These witnesses can place Mr. Rogers at or close to the scene at the time of death. He knows two of the murdered girls and, as we believe the killer hacked their computers to discover their whereabouts, is an expert in the field.”
Jenkins’ mouth dropped open but he remained silent.
“At the moment, we are conducting searches of his car and house, and any computers he has in his possession will be examined for evidence.” She reached for her coffee and eyed him over the rim of the mug. “I read your client his rights and he has remained silent. If you would like to speak to him, I will take you to him now.”
Jenkins made a great show of reading the documents, punctuated by huffs and puffs of annoyance. “You have nothing. This is all supposition. I will speak to my client—alone, as is his right.”
Jenna pushed to her feet, eyeing the muffin on her plate with a sense of loss. “I’ll take you to him now but we need to interview him as well.” She called to Walters to follow and left him on guard outside the cells.
Delivering Jenkins to his client, she offered him a smile. “You should be aware I am issuing a statement to the press this morning, and with luck we’ll have more witnesses coming forward. I’ll send the evidence we discover to the prosecutor; I’m sure under full disclosure he will forward the details to your office in due course.” She turned and headed back to her muffin. I sure hope my deputies find something.
Thirty-Eight
After dressing in protective coveralls, booties, and mask, Kane pulled on a pair of latex gloves then popped the trunk of Steve Rogers’ dark blue sedan. A waft of sewerage hit him in the face and he whistled. “Ah, Wolfe, I think we have something here.” He waved Rowley over to take photographs. The camera clicked twenty or more shots and he waved to get his attention. “That’s good enough.”
He stood to one side to allow Wolfe, dressed in blue coveralls with only his eyes visible, to peer into the recess. “Muddy boots and a shovel. What do you think he was doing in the forest?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but from the smell and what looks like blood and definitely hair, he wasn’t up to anything good.” Wolfe’s pale eyes peered at him over the top of his mask. “I’ve collected an assortment of hair and fibers from the interior and swabbed any suspicious areas. If you could collect fingerprints, I’ll work here. Rowley is in charge of the samples—it’s best we have one man doing that job so we don’t step on each other’s toes.” He removed the boots from the trunk and dropped them into an evidence bag held open by Rowley. “Cover both ends of the shovel then roll the entire thing in plastic.”
“Yes, sir.” Rowley juggled the huge evidence bag as if it had a severed head inside, gave a snort of laughter, then complied.
Kane nodded. “Right, I’ll leave the logging of evidence to him. I’m interested to see what shows up under luminol.”
“Yeah, me too.”
After dusting the car and running the scanner over the prints, he returned to watch Wolfe. The meticulous way he collected evidence impressed him. The man was so methodical and nothing escaped his attention. One hour later, satisfied he had everything he needed, Wolfe expertly sprayed the trunk with luminol. Kane extinguished the lights and gaped at the bloodstains showing under the UV black flashlight.
“I know it’s blood but I have yet to determine if it’s human blood. He could have killed a dog and buried it in the forest. If it is human, I’ll run a DNA test to see if it matches any of our victims.” Wolfe’s blond eyebrow rose. “If it doesn’t fit the genetic profile of any of the victims here or interstate, and it is human blood, then we’ll have another mystery on our hands.” His gaze moved to Kane. “We should search the house first and grab his laptop. If this blood is human, we’ll have to backtrack from where you saw his car parked in case he buried a body close by. It won’t be easy to do a grid search of the forest on our own. We’ll need cadaver dogs. If the test is positive, I’ll make a few calls when we get back to the office and see if we can get a team down here first thing in the morning.”
Mind reeling with the implications of Wolfe’s statement, Kane frowned. “I’m confused. If Rogers is our killer, burying a body is a complete turnaround in behavior. I have yet to hear of a psychopath who enjoys exhibiting his kills one day then burying them another. I’ve read about killers burying their victims and digging them up later but not both fetishes at the same time.” Every hair on his body stood on end at the idea of two killers in town. “What if Rogers isn’t our man?”
“Don’t get sidetracked. There is no evidence of another murder and we have no one else reported missing in the area.” Wolfe’s stern gaze got his attention. “We don’t know if he kidnapped Felicity. We are assuming he killed her in the river. What if he disabled her and transported her to the river in the trunk of his car? When you caught him beside the forest the other night, he could have been burying his trophies. Felicity’s clothing or the knife he used to kill Joanne.”
Wolfe made a lot of sense and Kane’s hackles went down. “How long before you know if the blood is human?”
“I’ll check it now. I can do a precipitin test. It distinguishes between the blood of humans and animals. I have a kit in the lab.” Wolfe let out a long, tired sigh. “It will take time to run the DNA tests. I have purchased the latest equipment but we’re looking at three days at least before I’ll get a result.”
* * *
Kane followed Wolfe from the garage and into a small laboratory Wolfe shared with the previous M.E. The room was cramped yet sterile and he wondered how Wolfe managed to juggle so many jobs at once. He waited for the result, and when Wolfe held up the test tube and his ice-gray eyes met his over the mask, his stomach dropped to his boots. “It’s positive, right?”
“Yeah, it’s human blood, but until the DNA results come back or we find concrete evidence in his home or on his hard drive, we can’t assume he killed the girls—or in fact anyone. The blood could be his, for all we know.” Wolfe’s blond brows met in a frown. “In forensics it’s baby steps, not rushing to conclusions. What comes out of my lab, I’ll need to verify with proof in court. I know it’s frustrating but as you only have circumstantial evidence, the blood work has to be conclusive.”
Kane stripped off his gloves, blue coveralls, and booties. “You get the tests started and we’ll search Rogers’ home. If I find anything of interest I’ll call you, and if not I’ll bring any computers I find back to the office.”
“Okay.” Wolfe’s pale gaze remained on his face. “Take your time. If this is our man, we need to do everything by the book.”
He gave him a wave and headed for the door with Rowley on his heels. “By the book it is.”
* * *
The drive to Steve Rogers’ house took longer than usual. Traveling through town with the hustle and bustle of the rodeo crowd was bad enough but jaywalkers streamed across the road dodging vehicles as if they had a date with the Grim Reaper. They took no notice of the blue flashing lights on Kane’s SUV, and waved or grinned at him as if he had turned them on to join in the celebration. “Is it like this every year?”