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“The lack of blood.” The man stepped forward.
“Crandell. We need to stop meeting like this,” Montana mused. He circled the perimeter of the cross. The killer was definitely male and by the deep tone of his voice, older, perhaps in his early fifties.
“Then stop presenting bodies.” Crandell gave him a look of discord. “She was alive when she was brought here. That much I can tell you.”
Montana surveyed the damage to the woman’s torso. “The killer was angry, enraged.”
Don’t! Please! I’ll do anything you want.
“I would say so,” Crandell exhaled. “The cuts are shallow. Notice the ligature marks on her forearms. She’d been tied in another manner before being chained to the cross. By the looks of her bruised hands and the mark on her face, I’d say she put up a good fight. Unfortunately, I don’t see any signs of tissue under her fingernails. They were too short. I’ll let you know.”
Of course, you will, you fucking slut. He laughed then tipped his head back, howling into the night sky.
Montana rubbed his mouth. “Of course. Can’t catch a break.”
“Fuckin’ nutcases,” Grant said through clenched teeth.
“Another indication she wasn’t murdered here.” Montana studied her attire. The leather skirt was intact, but the corset had been ripped away, portions shredded. Her heavy breasts dangled down over the lacey edge. “He tied and tortured her breasts and there are welt marks crisscrossing her legs. My guess is along her back and buttocks as well.” He snapped several pictures.
“He?” Grant tipped his head. “You sound certain.”
“I am,” Montana countered. The dark figure in the vision was tall, muscular with hair just reaching the collar of his shirt. There was an air about him, aristocratic. He blinked, attempting to garner more. The vision was gone. He hadn’t been able to make out any facial features.
“This is our killer. I mean he or she killed the others,” Grant insisted as he glared at Montana.
Crandell shook his head. “My professional opinion is that this is a different monster, more human in nature.”
“More human? That’s a crock of shit,” Grant hissed as he shook his head.
“They’re all monsters who feed on the innocent, detective. However, this particular victim’s murder was caused by a different method of killing. Today’s murderer was indeed angry and rushed for time. This was a vengeance style kill while the others were premeditated and planned. The person who murdered the other two victims knew his way around a dungeon.” No one knew Jade had given them a list. Perhaps the killer was trying to throw them off the real prize.
“Said like a man who has more than a general idea of what the fuck is going on here.” This time Grant grinned. He coughed and looked away when Montana held up his index finger. “Jesus. Just joking.”
Montana looked away, attempting to remember every detail of the images he’d seen. The scene wasn’t the same in his vision.
“Cut her down. We need to perform an autopsy to determine time and method of exsanguination.”
“So damn clinical.” Montana didn’t anticipate a response. “What about the man killed in the bar?”
“Run of the mill. In truth, I think the death might have been a result of a bar fight and nothing more.” Crandell slipped gloves onto his hands and approached the body.
Montana watched in fasciation as the man pulled back torn flesh. A shiver trickled down his spine. The girl’s tortured cry penetrated his brain. “Pointless.”
“I disagree. She was killed for a reason. What that concept is you have to figure out.” The ME continued, studying her cuts in a methodical manner.
He shook his head and took a step back. “What about this calling card?”
Grant motioned for the two officers flanking the scene. “They found something lying on the ground next to her body.”
“Dare I freaking ask?” Montana shifted and surveyed the area. The block of buildings had contained warehouse space for many years. Only recently had the entire area known as Shockoe Bottom received a facelift. The riverbank was now adorned with high dollar condominiums, affluent stores and restaurants that stayed open late. The entire area was booming. “Someone had to have noticed the girl or her killer.”
“I doubt it, partner. Last night was some festival here in the ‘bottom’. I doubt anyone paid a damn bit of attention to two people frolicking on the river’s edge.” Grant moved closer to the shoreline. “We have footprints, but they’ve been compromised.”
“Of course, they have.” Montana groaned.
One of the officers held out an evidence bag. The kid was green, not just from limited time on the force, but also from the sight in front of him.
“Let’s see what we have.” Grant eyeballed the card. “Club Noir. Interesting. I think the killer is trying to tell us something.”
