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“I don’t think I do, but it changes nothing. Katherine could be dead.”
FORTY-TWO
Amanda found herself practically holding her breath the closer she got to the Mercedes. Could she and Trent expect leads that would take them to Katherine? Or were they too late? Would they be finding her body?
Trent parked behind a cruiser at the rear of the Mercedes. Another one was lined in front of it.
Their strobes added color and light to what was a rather overcast day.
Somehow coming this close to Katherine’s car made all the events of the past thirty-three hours that much more real. Images crashed in her mind. Those of Leah Bernard getting shot and going down, Katherine being shoved into the back of a van, running after the woman who’d collected the ransom, losing her… Losing Katherine?
She and Trent joined the two uniformed officers who were chin-wagging next to the ditch.
“Detectives.” Officer Wyatt dipped his head. She didn’t recognize the other officer, possibly new to the PWCPD, but he wasn’t a rookie as he’d obviously been entrusted with his own squad car.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said to him. “I’m Detective Amanda Steele.”
“Detective Trent Stenson,” he chimed in.
“Officer McRoy, Jerrod. I joined the department last month.”
“Any word on when CSIs are going to get here?” She would have thought they’d have beaten her and Trent there. Their office was half the distance they’d just traveled.
“Don’t know.”
The breeze kicked up, and she caught a familiar odor. It came and left so quickly, she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. If so, that would be good news. But her instincts had her moving closer to the trunk, and she was sniffing at the air like a bloodhound. Another breeze danced through. Unmistakable. “Do you smell that?”
Trent came over. “Oh yeah. Blood.”
“We need in that trunk right away, fellas.” Amanda pointed toward it. Every nerve ending in her body was at high alert. Her mind was locked on the smell of blood and fear that Katherine’s body was inside.
Officer McRoy hustled to his cruiser and returned with a tire iron.
“No keys left inside the car?” Trent asked, stepping back to make some room.
“Nope. Ah, just a bit more space, please.”
Amanda shuffled aside, and Trent gave him more berth.
The officer slipped the tire iron under the lip. Amanda cringed at the sound of the paint job being scraped and dented. If Katherine were here, she’d have something to say about the damage to her beloved Mercedes. The thought came and went, its presence futile.
Officer McRoy heaved on the tire iron. With several more attempts at wedging it along the trunk line, the lock finally gave way.
The lid was cracked open, and the smell of blood became stronger.
Please no. But her silent plea did no good. They had found a body.
FORTY-THREE
The woman was on her side and facing away from them, a bullet hole in the back of her head. But her stature was about the right size for the accomplice.
“It’s not Katherine,” Amanda verbalized, the announcement only easing her breathing some. She needed a few moments to get her bearings, to realize what this meant. Presumably Katherine was still alive. But for how much longer? She was at the mercy of a man who was a proven killer.
Trent stepped up next to her, his elbow grazing hers, but she didn’t move hers out of reach. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Uh-huh. You?” She looked over at him, and his eyes were wet.
“Yeah. Quite a jolt though. Unexpected.”
