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“Yes, we have an empty office.” Ms. Soares indicated to an open door across the passageway. “I’ll go and get them for you.” She turned away.
“Who are you and what have you done with Agent Katz?” Styles stared at her, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Is this good cop, bad cop? Should I start to raise my voice or threaten to take them in for impeding a federal officer in his duty?”
Shaking her head, Beth searched her pockets for examination gloves and pulled them on. “Ah, come on, you know all this tough image is just for show. I’m all sweetness and light underneath, right?” She smiled at him. “They say you get more flies with honey than with vinegar. She has her orders and doesn’t want to be fired for making a mistake, is all.”
“She didn’t ask to see our creds.” Styles shrugged. “Handing over evidence to just anyone is a big mistake. She doesn’t knowwho we are. We could be the killers wanting a little more time with the corpse for all she knows.” He pulled on a pair of examination gloves with a snap and grinned at her. “I figure we could pass as a couple of psychopaths, what do you say?”
Beth snorted. “You say the nicest things, Styles.”
FIVE
The clothes arrived, all shoved into a big plastic bag and sealed with a name tag. Beth took it and led the way into the office. A desk and one chair sat in the middle of the room. On the desk was a box of tissues. Beth passed the bag to Styles and took a small bottle of PCR Clean from her purse. She never left home without the DNA remover, but Styles didn’t need to know that. She held it up and smiled at him. “I brought this as an afterthought, just in case we needed a clean area.” She liberally sprayed the desk and wiped it dry with a handful of tissues. “There, now open the bag and dump everything on the table.”
Surprisingly, the clothes were not covered in blood. There was a small pattern of spatter across the shoulders of a jacket and down the front. Beth took each piece of clothing, examined it, and then, after photographing it, returned it to the bag. The shoes were in a separate bag and Beth didn’t touch them for fear of destroying trace evidence. “I see leaf fragments, pine needles, and blood traces.” She blew out a long sigh. “What do you see?”
“Arizona Carson was fifteen, from her photograph a normal size for her age.” Styles’ brow furrowed. “The underwear is missing. The bra is there but no panties. We’ll need to ask the parents if she wore them.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “You can’t just ask a parent that, Styles. We’ll need to ask them to make a complete list of her clothing right down to her socks and shoes.” She sighed. “We’ll make some excuse about it being needed for a positive ID. It will make it easier on them. She might not have been sexually assaulted like the others. Can you imagine the trauma it would cause, knowing a killer has their daughter’s underwear?”
“Yeah, it would be another punch in the guts.” Styles raised both eyebrows. “So why take the panties?”
Beth thought for a beat. “I’ve read about other killers taking their victim’s panties as trophies. They’re especially good evidence when we find their stash. There’s always DNA on panties. When we find his stash, it will make it easier for us to make a case against him.”
“I’m aware.” Styles sealed the bag and dropped it onto the table. “Any other insights? This guy seems to be crossing lines between a holdup with a deadly weapon to kidnap and rape and murder.” He sighed. “He’s like two people. Is that possible?”
It had been something Beth had considered. “Yeah, they can follow any pattern or no pattern. Trying to link the two independent actions is the problem. We have a motive. The money stolen from the store is one. The abduction is sketchy. Why is he taking the girls when he seems to get away without anyone seeing him? No one is chasing him. Why does he need a hostage?”
“Do you figure we should run it past Jo Wells, the behavioral analyst out at Snakeskin Gully?” Styles raised both eyebrows in question. “She did mention we could call on her at any time for assistance in a case. Her partner, Ty Carter, is a great asset as well. I like them.”
Trying to appear enthusiastic, Beth nodded, but her stomach dropped. She looked at him. “I like them too.” She did like them in her way. She appreciated Ty Carter’s frankness; he was onlyjust in control of his filter and it showed. Jo, on the other hand, missed nothing and was as smart as a whip.
Wanting to groan, Beth turned away, busying herself with her phone. She could just imagine the complications of having two more FBI agents breathing down her neck when she might need to sneak away to deal with the case eating her up inside out at Mischief. She’d met Jo Wells, and although Jo was at the top of her field, Beth believed she hadn’t sent up any red flags with “I’m a serial killer” written all over them just yet. During her time working with Styles, and watching him deal with his particular brand of anger by hitting balls in a baseball net, her control over her dark side had increased. She used physical exertion when life became complicated, and so far, it had worked.
The elevator chimed and the doors slid open to reveal Dr. Shane Wolfe, his daughter and ME in training, Emily, and his assistant and badge-holding Black Rock Falls deputy, Colt Webber. Beth smiled. “Dr. Wolfe, Emily, Colt, good to see you again.”
“I’m hoping the attending physician hasn’t destroyed evidence.” Wolfe’s gray eyes moved to Styles and he held out his hand. “Good to see you again, Styles. What have we got?”
Beth waited for Styles to give him a rundown of the personal effects and then turned to Wolfe. “This is our first hour on the case. We wanted to secure the victim’s remains and take the personal effects into custody. We’ll be viewing the crime scene as soon as possible.”
“Styles mentioned four gunshot victims from yesterday, plus three and an abducted and murdered girl taken from a different location.” Wolfe’s face was grim. “I’m assuming your priority is the missing girl, so we’re looking at the previous victim’s remains for clues?”
Nodding, Beth looked at him. “That’s the plan. Right now, we have positive IDs for the Broken Bridge murder victims, apart from the abducted Jane Doe, who we assume is Arizona Carson.” She glanced at her notes. “We have nothing on yesterday’s Roaring Creek shootings, apart from the sex of the victims and the abducted girl, who we assume is Cassidy Wilder. Her mom came forward after she heard about the shooting on the TV. She’d sent her to the store to buy milk.”
“Okay and, please, will y’all call me Shane or Wolfe?” Wolfe smiled at her. “We’ll be working together in a close-knit team, and I prefer to keep it casual between us. Unless that’s a problem, Agent Katz?”
Astounded, Beth returned his smile. She like the tall, blond, rugged man. He was dependable and ultra talented but ran a tight ship. She, it seemed, was surrounded by ex-military, and Wolfe, like Styles, ran to a different rhythm than her. “That would be nice, thank you, Shane.”
“Good.” Wolfe went to the counter and pounded on the bell. When Ms. Soares came into the room, he gave her a hard stare and held up his creds. “Dr. Shane Wolfe, medical examiner. Take me and my team to the body of the Jane Doe you refer to as Arizona Carson, and I want the attending physician here at once.”
“Yes, of course.” Ms. Soares unlocked a door beside the counter and waved them in. “Come this way.”
They followed Wolfe into the bowels of the hospital. It was so quiet their footsteps sounded like gunshots ricocheting along the empty corridors. They reached a set of metal doors withmorguewritten above them in black letters. Inside, they all changed into scrubs, masks, and gloves before being escorted into an examination room by an orderly. All morgues have the same sour smell of death, overlayed with a miasma of chemicals. Even with her wearing a mask, the odors permeated Beth’s nostrilsand she wished she’d availed herself of the mentholated balm the members of Wolfe’s team used. A stainless-steel gurney was pulled from the wall refrigerator. A body covered with a sheet, with only the toes showing, complete with a name tag. Why was that the same in every morgue Beth had visited?
“There is massive facial damage, Dr. Wolfe.” The orderly frowned over his face mask. “A warning if anyone is squeamish.”
“I’m sure everyone here has seen a gunshot wound before.” Wolfe frowned. “Where are the other victims? The ones from Broken Bridge and the shooting yesterday?”
“They’re not here.” The orderly shrugged. “I don’t know.”
