CHAPTER THREE #2
Matt came around the desk. “Several impacts. There’s a possible strike mark on the floor and fragments spread as far as the sofa. I’ve photographed everything before moving any pieces.”
“Could it have been damaged during the struggle?” Selena asked.
Matt shook his head. “Not like that. Someone kept hitting it after it was down.”
The word processor and the tongue belonged to the same act. Karen had come here to write. The killer had destroyed the machine and removed the part of her body that allowed speech.
Silence imposed twice.
Selena straightened.
“What do we know about the victim?”
Connor drew a small notebook from his shirt pocket. “Karen Sloane. Forty-one. Kentucky driver’s license lists her old address in Loyall.”
Selena repeated the name silently.
Something shifted in memory. A girl near the rear of a school assembly. Brown hair cut to her shoulders. A stack of library books held against her chest.
“Why do I know that name?”
“She was behind us in high school,” Connor said. “Quiet back then. She joined the school paper for a while.”
Selena studied Karen again, trying to reconcile the indistinct teenager with the woman on the desk.
“Matt, I want impressions from the drive and the ground around every entrance. Footwear and tire tracks. Latent prints throughout the cabin, starting with the doors, windows, desk, word processor fragments, and anything near the body. Swab the victim for foreign DNA, including beneath her nails. Do the same for the broken word processor.”
“We’ve started on the entry points,” Matt said. “I’ll expand the sweep.”
Blethan folded his arms. “You talk as though you think us wee townies don’t know how to get the job done.”
Selena met his stare. “Just do it, Blethan.”
His brows rose. Then he turned to Connor, waiting.
Connor gave a single nod. “Full processing. Anything Selena asks for.”
Blethan made a sound low in his throat, though he did not argue further.
Matt hid a smile by checking the display on his camera.
Selena turned toward the open suitcase. “Is this Karen’s home? There’s little personal furniture or photos, is it a rental?”
“Temporary rental,” Connor said. “She and her husband finalized their divorce recently. She took the cabin for three months. Hannah Montgomery owns it.”
Selena remembered that name, too. Harlan was full of memories and connections, some strong, others as tenuous as a spider’s web.
“What do we know about access, Connor?”
Connor cleared his throat. “Hannah mailed Karen the key. Says she kept a spare at her house. We spoke briefly over the phone, but I’ve got a deputy on the way to speak with her and secure it.”
“Do we have Karen’s key?” Selena asked.
“Karen’s key was recovered from the floor beside her purse,” Connor added. “Matt has it bagged.”
Selena thought for a moment. “Any maintenance workers, cleaners, or contractors?”
“Not that we know of yet.”
“Get the rental agreement and a complete list of anyone who had permission to enter. We’ll need to know whether another key exists.”
Connor wrote it down.
Selena glanced toward the hallway. “You said she was divorced. Who’s the ex-husband?”
“Gerry Tomes.” Connor nodded. “Karen went back to Sloane as soon as the paperwork was final.”
“Is Tomes local?”
Connor nodded. “Lives outside Loyall.”
“Any children?”
“No. No other local family either. Her parents retired to Florida years ago.”
“Have they been notified?” Selena asked.
“Not yet. We only confirmed her identity about an hour ago. I didn’t want to do that over the phone without arranging someone to be there.”
Selena hated the idea that they didn’t know what had happened to their daughter. “I can contact the appropriate local agency and have officers make the notification in person.”
Connor closed the notebook. “Thanks.”
Matt moved to the window and photographed the latch. Blethan bent over Karen again, examining one of the wounds without disturbing her clothing. The work continued around Selena, methodical and restrained, but the room still felt marked by the violence of what had happened.
Connor stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I thought it was best to bring you in because…”
“You don’t need to explain.”
His mouth straightened. “It’s county jurisdiction. I know that. I just don’t want it to seem like I’m calling you every time something bad happens.”
“This is brutal, Connor. You were right to call.”
He glanced toward Karen. “We don’t see many scenes like this.”
“No department should,” Selena said.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
The admission was simple, but it disturbed the careful distance they had built over the past three weeks.
Selena kept her attention on the body. “I’m glad to help.”
Connor slipped the notebook back into his pocket. “I appreciate it.”
She returned the flashlight to her kit and removed the outer pair of gloves, turning them inward before placing them in an evidence-scene disposal bag.
“Let’s start with the people closest to her. Tomes being our first.”
“Yes.”
“Get him down to the station, Connor. Don’t tell him what this is about yet. We’ll see what he knows before we give him anything.”
“I’ll have Arnold bring him in… You think it could be the ex?”
“It often is,” she said. “Whoever killed Karen wanted to disfigure her. The tongue could be because of things she’d said during the divorce.”
Selena stepped into the hallway.
The distance from the body helped, but not as quickly as she wanted. Blood had a way of following a person beyond the room where it had been spilled, clinging to the back of the throat and turning each breath into a reminder.
Behind her, Matt’s camera clicked again.
Selena continued toward the open front door, but the smell of blood did not fade from her senses quickly enough.