Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Tahoe’s engine hummed as Sam pulled onto the main road, the woods falling away behind them. Jo sat in the passenger seat, watching the trees blur past.
Lucy sprawled across the back seat, nose still twitching like she was processing every scent from the scene. Her tail gave an occasional thump against the upholstery, satisfied with a job well done.
“You get everything?” Sam asked.
Jo nodded. “Fabric sample, photos, measurements. Kevin got a full perimeter walk. Lucy sniffed two separate locations where the body was moved.”
“Good.” Sam’s jaw worked. “ME said they’d start the autopsy today. We should have preliminary results by morning.”
Jo watched the trees blur past her window. Something about the scene bothered her—the staging felt deliberate. Professional. Like whoever dumped the body wanted to send a message.
“You’re quiet,” Sam said.
“Long day.”
“It’s barely noon.”
Jo huffed a laugh. “Feels longer.”
They lapsed back into silence. The station came into view, squat and familiar against the afternoon sky.
Sam parked and killed the engine. Kevin pulled in beside them a moment later.
Inside, the station smelled like burnt coffee and copy toner. Reese looked up from her desk, eyebrows lifting.
“That was fast.”
“Body dump,” Sam said. “Staged scene but we got what we could.”
Lucy trotted ahead toward the squad room, nails clicking on the worn hardwood. Major sat atop the filing cabinet, tail swishing slowly as he watched them file in.
Jo dropped into her chair and pulled out the evidence bags. The fabric sample went into the log first—time, location, chain of custody. Then the photos Kevin had taken, each one labeled and catalogued.
Kevin dropped into his chair across from her, already pulling up the database on his computer. “I’ll see if I can get any missing persons reports that might match our victim.”
“Good.” Sam leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Jo, can you start putting together a timeline? We need to figure out when the body was moved and where the actual murder scene is.”
“On it.”
Sam’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, frowned, then headed toward his office. “ME’s calling. I’ll take this.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Jo turned to her computer, pulling up a blank timeline document.
Kevin’s fingers flew across the keyboard, his focus absolute. Major stretched and resettled, one eye cracked open in her direction.
Time of death: estimated between midnight and 2 AM.
Body discovered: 9:47 AM by civilian hiker.
Two dump locations: initial site 30 feet from discovery point.
She typed mechanically, building the framework. Facts. Evidence. The things she could prove.
The afternoon crawled.
Hours passed in the slow grind of paperwork and phone calls. Kevin worked his way through database after database, cross-referencing fiber samples. Jo built timelines, checked and rechecked witness statements, called the ME’s office twice for updates that hadn’t come yet.
Lunch came and went—someone ordered sandwiches that sat half-eaten on desks. The coffee pot emptied and refilled. Major shifted positions on his perch, sunlight tracking across the filing cabinet as the afternoon wore on.
By five-thirty, the light outside had started to fade.
Across from her, Kevin muttered something about thread counts.
Lucy settled near Sam’s office door, head on her paws, ears still forward. Alert even at rest.
The station phone rang. Reese’s voice drifted through the open door, professional and efficient.
Sam’s office door opened. He stepped out, phone still in hand, expression grim.
“ME confirmed blunt force trauma. Multiple impacts. Says whoever did it knew what they were doing.”
Kevin looked up from his screen. “Professional hit?”
“Maybe. Or someone who’s done this before.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re running tox screens, checking for defensive wounds. Should have more in a few hours.”
Jo saved her timeline and stood. “I’m going to grab coffee. Anyone want a cup?”
“I’m good,” Kevin said, eyes back on his monitor.
Sam shook his head. “Thanks though.”
She headed for the coffee machine, put in a K-cup and stood there staring at the wall while the machine did its thing.
Her phone buzzed.
Bridget: Done with work early. Want me to grab dinner stuff on the way home?
Jo typed back: Sure. Whatever you want.
Three dots appeared, then: Pasta okay?
Perfect.
The dots again. Then: You okay?
Jo stared at the screen.
Long day. Body in the woods.
Yikes. Want to talk about it?
Not yet.
Okay. I’ll make the good garlic bread. Be ready around 7.
Jo almost smiled. Deal.
She pocketed her phone and headed back to the squad room.
Kevin had pulled up something on his screen—fabric samples, close-up photos of weave patterns. “Got a partial match on the fiber found on the clothing. Automotive carpeting, high-end. Used in luxury sedans mostly.”
“That narrows it down,” Jo said.
“Little bit. I’m running it against local registrations now.”
Sam emerged from his office again, this time with his jacket. “Forensics is backed up. Won’t have anything more until tomorrow morning at the earliest.”
Kevin glanced at the clock. “It’s almost six.”
“Yeah.” Sam exhaled. “We’re not doing anyone any good spinning our wheels here. Let’s call it and pick back up fresh tomorrow.”
Kevin saved his work and shut down his computer. “Holy Spirits?”
Sam hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I could use a beer.”
“Jo?” Kevin asked.
She could head home, but one drink with the team after a day like this sounded better than sitting alone with her thoughts.
“Sure. One drink.”
They gathered their things—jackets, keys, phones. Lucy stretched and padded to Sam’s side, ready to go wherever he went.
Major watched them leave, tail swishing in slow, measured beats.
Outside, the afternoon had shifted toward evening. Shadows stretched long across the parking lot.
“I’ll meet you there,” Jo said, heading for her car.
Sam nodded. “See you in a few.”
She slid behind the wheel and sat there for a moment, engine idling.
Something about the case felt off. The deliberate staging. The two dump sites. The professional execution.
One drink. Then home.
Then she’d tackle it fresh in the morning.
She pulled out of the lot and headed toward Holy Spirits, the weight of the day heavy in her chest.