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Most of the time in the air, Styles had been occupied with baseball. Spring training, whatever that was, had begun and Styles was fully immersed. When not talking about cases, fishing, or Bear, his topic of conversation had been about ice hockey all winter and now baseball. She’d always had other things on her mind to consider following sports and had never considered a sporting interest in her future, but to act normal and fit in with her friends, she’d decided to discover more about the games. She now nodded at the right times when the discussions moved to sports. She’d actually gotten into hockey by the time the season ended and wondered if her attraction was the violence. She imagined that taking out her aggression by hitting a puck would be much like hitting a ball in the nets.
As they dropped onto Mischief General’s helipad, landing neatly beside the ME’s chopper, she turned to him and indicated with her chin toward Wolfe. The ME was walking up and down, phone pressed to one ear and waving his arm. His daughter Emily and his assistant, Colt Webber, were calmly extracting his equipment from the chopper. “What’s up with him?”
“I guess we’re gonna find out soon enough.” Styles climbed out and called Bear to his side. “He looks pretty mad.”
“What do you mean your deputies processed the crime scene?” Wolfe stared at the ground. “I gave explicit instructions to preserve the scene, leave the body in situ, and I’d be there ASAP.” He paused a beat, listening. “We’re on top of the hospital right now. I’m assuming y’all have the rentals Agent Katz arranged waiting for us close by? We have equipment to take tothe crime scene and the body of the victim is coming with me to Black Rock Falls for autopsy. I’ve reason to believe this case may tie in with our current investigation.” He glanced up at Beth, his expression etched in stone and shook his head. “As a state medical examiner I have jurisdiction. I was appointed by the attorney general, so pull your men off the crime scene—now.” He disconnected and shook his head slowly. “Our visit may be in vain. The local deputies have already contaminated the scene. The vehicles are waiting out front. We ask for Joey Barnhill at the front counter for the keys.” He gave Beth a quizzical stare. “How did you get rentals delivered?”
Smiling, Beth pulled on her gloves. “Mentioning the FBI works like a charm sometimes.” She rubbed her arms. “Is it always so cold and windy here? Do we ever get any warm weather?”
“In summer it warms up some, but right now it’s an advantage.” Wolfe led the way to the entrance. “It will keep the body chilled and preserve the evidence.”
They collected the keys, and Beth tossed them to Styles. “You drive. I’ll do a background check on the local law enforcement. Look for two white Nissans. I guess it’s those two.” She pointed to the vehicles parked at the curb.
“Why? Have you discovered anything about the local law enforcement I should know about?” Styles pressed the fob and led the way to a white Nissan Rogue and opened the back door for Bear.
Dropping their gear into the back seat, Beth shrugged. “I’m not sure. While I was waiting for you this morning, I hacked their files. Although they seem to be following procedure, the evidence collecting is less than adequate. If we get the chance, I’d like to get into the office to speak with them. Maybe it’s just bad leadership?”
“Maybe.” Styles climbed behind the wheel. “If they’ve messed up before, it will be in their records.”
Beth took out her tablet and went to work. “Okay, we have Sheriff Lance Walker, Deputy Dryer, and Deputy Boone. Sheriff Walker was voted in six years ago. Dryer joined him at that time, and Deputy Boone a year ago. Boone was a deputy in Bozeman for six months prior to coming here and is the sheriff’s nephew. He moved here after his mother passed. That’s it. If they did do anything, the sheriff never mentioned it on their records.” She blew out a breath. “I guess voting in a sheriff doesn’t mean he’s good at his job, does it?”
“Nope.” Styles turned the Nissan and followed Wolfe. “Maybe nobody else put their hand up for the job. It doesn’t pay that well, does it?”
Pushing her tablet into the backpack she’d filled with essentials, she shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never aspired to be a sheriff. I like the freedom to move around through the states with no restrictions. If we have a lead in Alaska, we can go there. A sheriff is stuck inside the county boundaries unless they get to cooperate with neighboring law enforcement. Plus we’re trained for our work. A sheriff has basic requirements and has to pass a public safety officer standards and training course. I wonder if any of them know the basic procedure for processing a crime scene.”
“Maybe not.” Styles lifted one shoulder. “That would account for what’s happening here. I can remember my first murder scene, and it sticks with me forever, but I had the training to work the scene. I’d also seen plenty of dead bodies in my time. It might be just a case of the blind leading the blind.”
Checking her watch every five minutes or so to make a mental note of the time it took to travel between different suburbs, Beth took in the dilapidated area they had just driven through. The area the body had been found was situated inan old industrial area. Two or three of the buildings had been gutted with fire. The rest stood empty, cold reminders of prosperity from a bygone era. With the glass long gone from the windowpanes, the buildings stood like a line of skulls, staring into nothingness. Grass grew through the cracked concrete sidewalk and weeds had overtaken the gaping open doorways. She turned to Styles. “What happened here?”
“There used to be railway spurs all through these places years ago, and when they closed, the lifeblood of the manufacturing was cut off. They couldn’t move their goods or get regular supplies, and so parts of the town died. It’s not unusual. It’s happening all over.” Styles was keeping back some ways from Wolfe’s vehicle and his head was moving back and forth as he scanned the local area. “This is a perfect place to commit murder. No one around, nobody to hear the screaming.”
Already noticing the advantages of the area, Beth nodded. “Yeah, they’d know the area and select a building where they could hide a vehicle without being seen.” She glanced around. “So many would be perfect. A little recon of the area to clear a space and all he’d need to worry about was getting the victim into his vehicle.” She looked at him. “Without autopsy reports we have no idea the extent of the victim’s injuries. It seems to me they found a body, noticed the ligature marks on the neck and bruises on the thighs, and just marked down the cause of death in all these cases as a rape and strangulation.”
“You figure a doctor would do that without an examination?” Styles pulled up behind Wolfe’s vehicle.
Blowing out a sigh, Beth shook her head. “Beats me.” She moved her gaze along the three sheriff’s department cruisers alongside the sidewalk. “I guess we’re going to find out.”
TWENTY-TWO
Styles climbed from the Nissan and let Bear out, ordering him to sit and wait as he followed Wolfe’s team into the old building. It was dark inside and no more than an empty shell, filled with patches of grass and broken concrete flooring. He respected Wolfe, and in a crime scene situation, he’d stay back and allow him to do his thing, but seeing the cool, calm man annoyed was something unfamiliar. He was like a drill sergeant the way he barked orders at the sheriff and his deputies. Wolfe wanted answers and he wanted them now.
“You three stand over there. My assistant will be collecting DNA, hair, and saliva samples from all of you. This is protocol and not a choice for law enforcement at a crime scene when contamination is suspected. I want fingerprints as well.” He turned to Webber. “In your own time, Colt.” He swung around and looked at Styles. “I figure you should examine the body with me, and we’ll see if it fits your other case. I have powerful flashlights with me.” He turned to his daughter. “Emily, grab some flashlights out of our kit.” He waited for everyone to turn on the beams and headed toward the body, forensic kit in one hand.
Pulling on a face mask, Styles glanced at Beth. “Watch your step. There are broken bricks all over.”
“My eyesight is twenty-twenty and in the dark I see like a cat.” Beth flicked him a glance. “But thanks for caring.”
The girl was face down, her head turned to one side, eyes staring. Torn clothes littered the surrounding ground, and from what he could see, beside her the grass and weeds had been flattened. Styles frowned. Something was out of place, and he crouched down to peer at the ground, moving his flashlight back and forth.
“She’s been moved.” Beth bent to examine the body. “The ground is filthy and her back is clean.”
Styles nodded. “Yeah, and by the flattened weeds, she was lying on something when he attacked her. When he was done, he rolled her off and took whatever they were lying on.” Incredulous, he shook his head. “Well, this is a first. A killer who brings a blanket with him to rape and murder so he doesn’t hurt his knees.”
“It’s thick, maybe three inches by the imprint in the ground, and look over here.” Wolfe moved his flashlight around, stopping at two small patches of disturbed soil about a yard apart. “I’d wager that’s the tips of cowboy boots.” He looked at Styles. “Help me lay out a body bag. We’ll need to roll her over and I want to keep her back clean just in case there are any fibers or trace evidence I can use to determine what she was lying on.” He moved his flashlight around and shook his head slowly. “Hmm, if I didn’t know better, I’d say this is the outline of an exercise mat. Emily has one and rolls it out on the grass at home, and it leaves a similar mark when she’s done.”
“You saying he’s bringing an exercise mat to a murder?” Beth gaped at him. “You’re joking, right?”
“Unless it just happened to be here, all nice and clean.” Wolfe looked at her. “If a vagrant was sleeping here, the mat wouldn’tbe very clean and likely had been dumped here a time ago. Seems to me, it’s looking like the killer planned this murder.”
