“Sure.” Kane glanced on the ground to make sure he would not destroy evidence then stepped closer and turned on the recorder, holding it out for Wolfe to make his report.
“Initial examination. The victim is a female, Caucasian, approximately sixteen to eighteen years old, sixty-five inches tall with dark hair and eyes. Rigor is minimal. Body temperature is ninety-two degrees, which would put the time of death between five and six hours ago. Little blood evidence at the scene. I estimate death occurred between nine and nine thirty as the body was discovered at ten.” Wolfe gently lifted the girl’s head and examined the skull. His brow creased into a frown. “There is a contusion on the back of the head consistent with blunt force trauma.” He ran a hand down her arm, taking in the defense wounds, lifted her hand and then peered at the other. “I will bag the hands for further analysis.” He placed plastic bags over both hands. “There is evidence of a burn under her chin and across one cheek consistent with a cord or rope. The killer eviscerated the torso. The neck has a laceration measuring approximately six inches traversing the jugular. The angle of the wound indicates a right-handed person held the knife. The lack of blood in the immediate area suggests death occurred in a different location. Sexual activity to be determined. A large amount of lipstick covers the mouth and cheeks, applied post-mortem. A bunch of flowers was left at the feet.” He nodded at Kane and his voice sounded somber. “That’s all I need for now, you can turn off the recorder. I’ll cover her and give her some dignity while we wait for the mortician.” He bent and took a folded plastic sheet from his bag, shook it out, and placed it with great care over the body. When he turned to look at Kane, his eyes held an ice-cold expression. “I so want to get this animal.”
Pushing back a wave of anger, Kane handed him the recorder. “We’ll get him.” He slapped him on the back.
“Right now, the best thing we can do is look for clues.” Alton grimaced. “Killers like this believe they are invincible but sooner or later they make a mistake.”
“I agree.” Wolfe’s pale gaze narrowed. “Ready to search the area, ma’am.”
“Go ahead but keep each side of the footprints.” Alton’s gaze narrowed as she moved around Wolfe and bent over the prints.
Kane followed Wolfe, taking the opposite side, and examined the glint of gold Wolfe had spotted. He moved the leaves with care and found a cross then a chain. The links had snapped as if dragged from the victim’s neck. “I have a necklace here with a cross. Looks like the killer tore it from her neck.” He photographed then bagged the items and slipped them inside a large evidence bag.
“Signs of a struggle here and blood spatter, not enough for the injuries sustained, look here.” Wolfe pointed one long finger at the sandy edge of the river. “Deep marks in the river mud. I’d say he killed her in the water.”
Trying to push the image of the murdered girl from his mind, Kane took more shots and followed Wolfe around the area for another twenty minutes. “Whoever did this covered his tracks pretty well. We had a murder before Christmas with little to no evidence, much like this. I blame TV shows: They’re informing killers how to avoid leaving DNA or other trace evidence.” He led the way back to where Alton was finishing the plaster casts of the shoeprints.
“We have a significant problem with this murder.” Wolfe plucked at his face mask, his gaze fixed on the shrouded figure lying on the flat rock. “This isn’t his first kill. The way he disrespected her by smearing on the lipstick and posing her to make her look like a prostitute, then as if in a sudden pang of conscience, he left her a posy of flowers. This is an advanced escalation of psychopathic behavior, and the way he laid her out—he is proud of what he has done.”
“I agree.” Alton placed the plaster of Paris kit containers into the forensic bag. “This is why we need a database link with other towns. From the look of this victim, the killer has probably been committing murders all over the state, and this time it’s Black Rock Falls’ turn.” She straightened and stood, hands on hips. “I believe he wanted to deliver the ultimate shock value and is close by waiting for the fallout.”
“I’ll bet he’ll be one of the mourners at her funeral.” Kane rubbed the back of his neck. “He will be in his element, feeding on people’s grief.”
“Then we’ll need to haul ass and catch him before he strikes again.” Alton straightened. “Thoughts?”
“This is a man out of control.” Wolfe shook his head slowly and stared at Kane. “You are one of the best profilers I know. Do you agree he enjoyed killing her and will want a bigger thrill next time?”
A cold chill ran down Kane’s spine as he nodded. “I do. Prepare yourselves for worst-case scenario because it’s going to get nasty.” He sighed. “Right now, we don’t know his cycle. They all have a limit to how long they can go before their next fix. If he is passing through Black Rock Falls, we need to be on alert. He could strike again in days or even hours.”
“Wolfe, I want a positive ID of the victim like yesterday, and tell the M.E. I don’t want this leaking to the press. The last thing we want is the media contacting the parents before we’ve had the chance to notify them.”
“I’ll make it crystal clear, ma’am.”
Alton’s expression hardened as she glanced up at Kane. “The kids identified a couple of cowboys coming out of the forest, and we need to get over to the fairgrounds and interview them straight away.” She brushed a lock of black hair from her eyes. “Ah, there’s the acting M.E. to collect the body. I’ll leave the victim in your capable hands, Wolfe and send Walters back to the office to bring Rowley up to speed. Email me the findings of the autopsy ASAP.” She glanced at Kane. “Let’s go.”
Seven
Trailers and pickups packed the parking lot at the fairgrounds and people moved around setting up tents and food-vending caravans. Brightly colored signage pointed to different arenas. A massive poster hung over the front gate proclaiming cowboys and cowgirls would perform death-defying feats of athleticism on the wildest beasts in the west.
As Jenna made her way from the parking lot, murder was not foremost in her mind. Deputy Wolfe’s words at the crime scene filtered into her brain at a relentless rate. You are one of the best profilers I know. A trickle of worry ran down her spine. Kane had not mentioned knowing the new deputy, and in fact, the body language between them on meeting had been more like two stags during mating season rather than acquaintances. Yet after their visit to Aunt Betty’s Café, they acted like old friends, and then Wolfe had practically ordered her to a meeting. She trusted Kane and could find no reason why he would withhold information about Wolfe from her. What is going on?
She turned to Kane and could not temper the harsh tone of her voice. “Have you met Shane Wolfe before? You seem to get on like old friends.”
“This morning was the first time I laid eyes on him but I like him. He has experience in all the areas we need—especially today.”
His gaze had been direct, his manner convincing; either he was the best liar she had ever met or he had told her the truth. She nodded. “I agree. I wish we had another six like him.”
“I’m not sure if you can twist the mayor’s arm for another six—maybe one and a rookie.” Kane indicated with his chin toward a poster stuck to a board beside the ticket office. “I’ll speak to the guy in the ticket office but I would say, looking at the events, Lucky Briggs is a bull rider and roper; no doubt he is taking part in quite a few events.”
She stared at the pixelated image of a dark-haired man, his face shadowed by a black Stetson. “That photograph isn’t much to go on but he is obviously well known. I had no idea there would be so many events, including a Rodeo Queen competition. I’ve always preferred to remain in town during the celebrations to handle the complaints.”