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Coulter slowly followed the sheriff, and silently cursed when he saw the nude body sprawled out on her stomach. She appeared to be asleep until you looked closely. Then you could see the bruising on her arms, and the side of her rib cage.
“She put up more of a fight than Fern.” Coulter knelt closer and could see the congealed blood beneath her neck and face. “I’m not sure what that means.” He looked at the ME. “Do you have a cause of death?” he asked the question, but he could see the answer—she’d nearly been decapitated.
The ME glanced at him and then stared at the victim. “I read about your victim, Detective, and although my victim was nearly decapitated, I think it was post-mortem as opposed to yours being pre-mortem. My guess is that she died of asphyxiation. There are obvious signs of a struggle, and the bruising on her jaw and nose were pre-mortem. It looks like whoever did this grasped her face from behind.” The ME paused. “See the way the bruising is spread? The assailant looks to have held his hand tightly over her mouth while pinching her nose closed.”
The ME sighed and looked back at Coulter. “If it’s the same person who killed your victim, Detective, then I’d say Tracy here wasn’t surprised to see him and wasn’t afraid of him to begin with. When she realized what he intended, she fought and he overpowered her. Whether or not he intended to kill her the way he did is anyone’s guess.”
Coulter stared at the victim and wondered if there were two killers running around, or just the one. It was too much of a coincidence for his liking, especially when both recent victims had a connection to Alex Peterson. Not to forget Jocelyn.
He ran a hand down his face and moved away. “Can we talk at the station tomorrow?” he asked the sheriff.
The sheriff nodded.
Coulter took that as his cue to leave.
Trudging back to his car, he decided the private talk with Alex would happen sooner rather than later.
Day 11
8:00am
* * *
Saige tossed and turned for most of the night, and as she glanced over at Alex, realized that he looked to have slept about the same.
Not quite able to hide the yawn behind his hand, Alex dropped into the chair beside her and, after helping himself to coffee, sat back and drained his c
up.
“I needed that,” Alex commented and grinned.
“Rough night?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He yawned again. “I’m not usually so tired though.”
“I know what you mean. I slept badly. Too much going on inside”—she tapped her forehead—“for me to settle.” She shrugged.
“I’ve been thinking,” Alex paused, “I think I’m going to give Daniel Sterling a call and ask him to start getting the paperwork together to present to the governor. I think we have enough to request a stay. He can put the bits you’ve remembered into the paperwork, and, at least, the majority of the work will be done and ready for when we find more evidence to prove that Quinten is innocent.”
Saige rubbed her forehead. “Okay...I have the feeling that all the answers are locked inside of me.” She took a minute to compose herself. “I need to remember, Alex.”
“I wish you could remember. I wish you had your memory when it happened so that Quinten wouldn’t have been convicted. But it is what it is. You can’t push it, and I’d be a liar if I wasn’t hoping that you seeing Quinten will jog your memory.”
“So, you’re really okay with me going to see your brother?”
Alex sighed and poured them both more coffee. After taking a sip, he said, “The prison is no place for you. The first time I went to visit Quinten scared the fuck outta me, and it took a while to kind of get used to the visits. I don’t like the idea of you going, and I told Quinten that. The truth is that I think he’s desperate to see you. Talk to you.”
He grasped her hand. “He never stopped loving you, Saige. He never stopped hoping that one day you’d visit him. He confided in me a while ago that his one dying wish was to see you just once more.”
“Oh,” she sniffled, and reached up to wipe a tear.
Alex wrapped an arm around her and tugged her to his chest. Saige raised her face to him and realized that he shared her sorrow. She leaned her head back on his chest and they stayed like that for a while until her father’s faithful housekeeper and cook came bustling into the room, followed by the detective on her heels.
“Detective,” Saige sat up and greeted Coulter, realizing she was genuinely happy to see him, although troubled when she realized he looked tired. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes and no.”
“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” she asked.
