CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FOUR
After calling for a forensics unit, Bree spoke with dispatch. She had two additional deputies on patrol. Both were tied up with a vehicle collision involving injuries, but they would respond to the crime scene ASAP. She put out calls to the state police and small-town PDs within Randolph County for assistance, but available help was limited. Her crew wasn’t the only one being slammed by the flu.
Bree was on her own for now.
She rummaged in her pack at the edge of the clearing. She kept movements and equipment within the smallest area possible.
Her phone buzzed with a call from her chief deputy, Todd Harvey. She answered. “Aren’t you sick?”
“I heard about the body.” He wheezed. “I could help if you need me.”
“And infect the healthy deputies I have left? No.”
“I’m much better today.” He coughed for a full thirty seconds, sounding like a barking seal, then choked out, “Sorry. It’s just a residual cough.”
Bree’s eyes rolled all the way to the back of her head. “Stop trying to talk before you hack up a lung. Go back to sleep. You’re human, and humans get sick. I appreciate the offer, but the best thing you can do is get well so that when those of us still standing finally fall, you’ll be able to take over.”
“I’m sure I’ll be better in a day or two.”
“Then I’ll see you in a day or two.” This flu was blazing through county employees like a wildfire. It was only a matter of time before it got everyone. “Eat soup. Feel better.” She ended the call and turned back to her task, outlining the crime scene with only a flashlight to cut through the darkness.
Outdoor crime scenes could be a nightmare to process. Animals scavenged and scattered remains. Weather destroyed evidence. She eyed the steep slope on two edges of the clearing. Gravity and rain would have washed evidence down the descending slope. She’d have to include the likely path of the killer as well. In short, there was a ton of ground to cover, and all of it was wild terrain.
In Philadelphia, electricity had generally been available, and most areas were accessible to vehicles. Also, there had usually been plenty of uniforms on duty to help. Rural policing was a different animal. In Randolph County, she was learning on the job, utilizing common sense, and relying on Matt and her chief deputy for wilderness-specific knowledge.
She considered the perimeter of the scene. Go big was her personal motto. It was simple to reduce the size of a scene later, but it was much more difficult to extend the boundaries after responders had been crawling all over the ground, leaving their own footprints and disturbing possible evidence with every step.
Unrolling the crime scene tape, she began circling the clearing. It was slow going. Not only did she have to check the ground for potential evidence before taking a step, but tree roots and foliage threatened to trap her feet. Rain and mud made the ground slick. The last thing she needed was a twisted ankle. They already had to carry a body out of the woods. No one needed to carry the sheriff as well.
She had to work around the bear-shaped boulder at the front of the clearing. Larger rocks obstructed portions of the rear, where the ground sloped upward sharply, making the terrain impassable. Bree cordoned off the east side, tied the tape on a tree branch, then retraced her steps to mark the western perimeter. By the time she’d finished, Matt had texted to say he was on his way back with the ME, Juarez, and the lights.
After acknowledging his message, she marked the area of the downslope where runoff could have washed away evidence. When she returned to the charred tree, she found the two hikers waiting patiently at its base.
“Thanks for sticking around,” she said, joining them. “Investigator Flynn will be back shortly with reinforcements.” She’d already taken the brothers’ contact information and statements when she’d arrived. “Someone will escort you back to the road. I’ll need you to come to the sheriff’s station and sign an official statement in a day or two.” She tugged off a glove and withdrew a business card from her pocket. “I’ll have someone call you when it’s ready.” She would be here all night and likely into the morning. But their statements wouldn’t take long to write up. They’d found the body and returned to the road to call 911. She’d also order a background check on both of the hikers, just to cover her investigative bases.
“OK.” Steve shuddered.
Doug stamped his feet. “As much as I was looking forward to our trip, I’ll be glad to be home.”
“It’s going to be a while before I want to go camping again,” Steve agreed.
Bree tugged her glove back on. In the two minutes she’d had it off, her hand had stiffened with cold. “I’m also going to ask you not to talk to anyone about the body. I won’t give out your contact information, but the press has its way of discovering things. I don’t want details to reach the families of any missing persons before we can identify the remains and notify the next of kin.”
“We understand,” Doug said. “That poor woman.”
“And her poor family.” Steve sniffed and swiped at his face with a glove. “We won’t talk to the press or anyone else without checking with you.”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Bree said.
Doug nodded. “We’ll help in any way we can.”
“I appreciate that.” Bree pulled out a notepad and attempted to make a very rough sketch of the scene. She shielded her work with her upper body, but it was impossible to keep the pages dry.
The sound of movement in the woods caught her attention. She turned toward the noise and saw flashlights coming toward her. A few minutes later, four figures approached through the trees. In the lead, Matt hefted a fifty-pound portable light. Behind him, Dr. Serena Jones carried her med kit. The ME was a tall African American woman with a long, athletic stride. She wore full waterproof gear, including knee-high boots and a hood. The ME’s assistant followed with another kit. Hunching against the weather, the young man looked miserable and cold. Juarez brought up the rear. Thankfully, the deputy was young and fit. He wore a loaded backpack and hauled the second light.
The ME stopped in front of Bree. “We’re going to need to make a second trip for a body bag and gurney.”
“I’m trying to get more uniforms here,” Bree said. “Everyone has the damned flu.”
“We’re short-staffed as well.” Dr. Jones gave her a grim nod. “We might as well get started.”
Bree showed Dr. Jones the sketch. The ME illuminated the notebook with her flashlight. Bree used her pen to point up the hill toward the bear-shaped rock, then tapped on the damp page. “The body is here. This is the most likely path the killer used. Matt and I made a fresh trail over here. I’ve cordoned off this entire area.” She made a circular motion over the perimeter she’d marked on the paper.
The ME squinted at the sketch, then up the hill. “Got it.”
Bree slid her notebook into her backpack. “Let’s go.” She instructed Juarez to take the hikers back to their vehicle, so they could leave before any reporters showed up and noted their license plate number. Then Bree led the way to the clearing.
Dr. Jones moved toward the body, then crouched and set down her kit. She donned gloves, lifted the corner of the tarp a couple of inches, then lowered it and straightened. “Let’s get the lights set up.” She indicated where she wanted them on each side of the body, and Matt went to work.
In twenty minutes, lights blazed on the body and ten feet of surrounding earth, brightening the area like a mini sports stadium. Bree and the ME’s assistant took initial photos. Every step of the process needed to be recorded. Then Dr. Jones gently folded back the tarp, exposing the head and upper part of the torso. The underside of the camouflage tarp was a brown and shiny water-resistant material.
The girl was nude, lying on her side in a slightly curled position. Mud, dirt, and leaves streaked her skin. Bruises ringed her throat. The moving mass of maggots looked even more hideous in the glaring light.
Dr. Jones considered the corpse with a frown. “Female. I don’t want to disturb the bugs until I get her on the table, so age is to be determined, but she’s on the young side.”
“Can you give us any indication of PMI?” Bree asked. Determining the postmortem interval would be crucial in the investigation.
“Putrefaction is well underway. Bacteria in the GI tract breaks down hemoglobin there first, resulting in this green staining.” Dr. Jones waved a hand over the gut. “The marbling on the extremities indicates bacteria has spread though the venous system. We’re still in the bloated stage. At warmer temperatures, gases produced by bacteria are released around day five or six. It’s been warm for March, but still cool for decomposition ...” Seemingly thinking aloud, the ME tilted her head. “For now, I will roughly”—she glanced up at Bree—“roughlyestimate the PMI as seven to fourteen days. I’ll attempt to narrow that window when I get her on the table and get detailed weather data, but I make no promises. The weather has been changeable over the past couple of weeks, and we don’t know how long she’s been here or where she was killed or potentially stored in the hours immediately after death.”
“Stored?” Matt asked.
“Yes.” The ME adjusted her angle to view the back of the corpse. She pointed to a darker area along each flank. “Livor was fixed before she was placed in this position. She likely spent the first four to twelve hours after death on her back.”
After death, blood pooled in the lowest portion of the body, causing a purplish discoloration. Livor became fixed at approximately twelve hours at room temperature.
“We have at least one additional crime scene,” Bree said.
The ME’s brows knitted. “Lower temperatures inhibit both microbial and insect activity and keep the odor in check. Eggs and larvae can’t survive cold, but maggots inside a corpse can produce their own heat. We’ll consult a forensic entomologist. Aging the maggots could help narrow the PMI.”
“If we can ID her, we might tighten the estimate through her movements,” Bree said. Cell phone records, credit card activity, employment information, and friends and family could all provide information as to the victim’s whereabouts in the days leading up to her death.
“Hopefully, someone reported her missing,” Matt added.
The ME shifted position to lift the tarp covering the legs. “I don’t see any obvious injuries other than around her throat. She has a tattoo on her ankle.”
Bree snapped a photo of the infinity symbol, filled in with the colors of the rainbow.
After lowering the tarp, the ME moved closer to the head again. “I see a few petechiae beneath her eyes.” Petechiae were pinpoint bruises. They often appeared in and around the eyes after asphyxiation.
“She was strangled,” Matt said, his voice tight.
The ME nodded. “That’s a strong possibility, especially given the bruising around her neck.” She straightened and stretched her back. “I should be able to complete the autopsy tomorrow, barring any more callouts.”
Bree scanned the body. The next important step would be to ID the victim. The ME stepped back, and her assistant moved forward with the camera. They would thoroughly document the body in situ from all angles and distances.
“I also want samples of soil under and around the body,” Dr. Jones said.
After the body was removed, the sheriff’s department and forensics unit would photograph, video, and search the entire clearing. Bree’s phone buzzed. She lifted it and read a text. “Forensics will be at the bridge in forty-five minutes.”
“I’ll bring them in,” Matt volunteered.
“Could we turn that light?” the ME assistant asked. “I’m getting too many shadows. Just a foot or so to the left.”
Matt stepped over to swivel the fixture. He froze. “What’s that?” He pointed toward the other side of the clearing, which the light now just barely reached.
Bree squinted. “What do you see?”
“It’s brown and a little shiny,” Matt said. “Tucked under those evergreens.”
She shifted her gaze. The lower boughs of the small trees touched the ground, but through the needles, light glinted on something shiny. She stiffened as she recognized it. “It’s the underside of another camouflage tarp.”
“Which means ...” Matt’s voice trailed off. They all knew what it probably meant.
Two victims.
“A double murder wasn’t on my bingo card for the night.” Matt followed Bree and Dr. Jones toward the second tarp.
“Only one way to find out,” Bree said.
They made their way around the clearing, twigs snapping and dead leaves crunching as they waded through the underbrush. Bree stopped near the evergreens and lifted the lowest boughs. The tarp had been moved around, presumably by rain, wind, and animals. She spotted the body tangled in the filthy folds. Leathery-looking bits of skin clung here and there. Leaves and mold matted the long hair. The body was deflated and unrecognizable, and the smell of decay was weak. Large portions of flesh were gone, with bones showing in some places. “Definitely another body.”
Fuck.
“Body number two has been here longer,” Dr. Jones said.
Needing to number the bodies was never a good sign.
Matt moved closer, looking over Bree’s shoulder. “Any idea how long?” he asked.
The ME crouched next to the tarp. She eyeballed the remains. “It’s significantly decayed. There’s some flesh left, but much of the remaining tissue is cartilage. A few months?” Dr. Jones shook her head. “It’ll be hard to pinpoint.”
“What about maggots?” Bree asked.
“Not useful at this stage,” Dr. Jones said. “But other insects—like beetles—that come to the body later might be.” She sat back on her haunches. “We’ll take samples.”
“The long hair suggests it’s female,” Bree said.
“To be determined on autopsy.” Dr. Jones’s face remained noncommittal.
“But it was likely the same killer.” Bree waved a hand. “Same tarp.”
The clearing went silent as they all considered the implications.
Matt straightened. “We need to search the whole area.”
Bree pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling for the K-9 unit.”
If there were two bodies in the clearing, then there could be more.