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FOUR
Amanda and Trent approached the ME’s assistant and made quick introductions. Liam Baker was new to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner and looked to be in his mid-twenties, if that. He wore thick-lensed glasses with black, round frames. His eyes were the color of caramel, his mouth was set on an angle, and his full lips stood out as thick worms.
“Cause of death?” Amanda asked, directing the question to Rideout.
He was crouched next to the body, his gloved fingers working over every square inch of flesh—his immediate attention focused on the girl’s torso and the multiple wounds. “I’ll reserve final comment on that until I have her on a table back in the morgue. It’s likely safe to say that one of these did the trick, though.” He splayed an opened hand over the victim’s torso.
“There would have been a lot of blood…” Amanda glanced around the immediate area again. At first glance, it was clean with no signs that the woman had bled there. Maybe she had been dumped. If not, the killer had done an incredible job of cleaning up.
“There would have been.” Rideout stood, groaning as he did so.
Amanda looked at the CSIs who were still working in the area, curious if either of them had found any evidence of this being the actual scene of the crime—versus a crime scene where the body had been left. Blair and Donnelly were still working away, combing the small beach for evidence.
“Looks like she may have been killed elsewhere then brought here,” Trent said with more conviction than before.
“It’s certainly starting to feel that way.” Amanda still wasn’t sure, though. How much time had the killer had with the body? The area was isolated, and if the woman was killed here, it was probably early, hours before the park opened. After all, the killer would have needed time to clean her and the area. “Time of death?”
Rideout said, “Preliminarily, I’d say TOD was between three and five this morning.”
“The park opens at six,” Amanda said. “Regardless of whether she was killed here or dumped, I’d lean more toward your earlier estimate.” That would also allow the killer more time to clean up before the park opened.
“I’ll let the evidence guide me. Again—”
“You’ll know more once you get her back to the morgue,” Amanda finished and smiled.
Rideout nodded. “That’s right.”
Trent pointed his pen toward the body. “Do you know which injury proved fatal?”
Her partner seemed to think he could pry the answer from the ME. She’d expected Rideout to use the “when I get her back to the morgue” defense again, but to her surprise, he didn’t.
“There are a total of seven punctures.” Rideout paused and pressed his lips into a thin line. “From what I can deduce on scene, they penetrate rather deep. As for weapon type, I’ll need to get her back to the morgue. I’d say any of these wounds could have been the fatal blow, as it could have been a collaborative effect. But my experience leads me to this one.” He pressed a fingertip to a puncture in her left chest cavity, close to where her heart would be.
“Huh.” Trent tapped his pen to his chin, and it had Amanda raising her eyebrows.
“Yes?” she prompted him. It was obvious he’d had an epiphany.
He pointed his pen toward the body again. “In the heart?”
“That would be the right vicinity, yes,” Rideout said.
“Huh. Is there something in that? Another message from the killer maybe?” Trent spun to face her. “A jilted lover, unrequited love, jealousy?”
“We’ll need to consider all of it until each is ruled out.” Her mind drifted some. The remote location and a young, beautiful victim posed naked with one single flower. A black orchid. The dual meanings that Trent had found. Did the flower’s symbolism tell them about the victim or the killer? Both? Had this girl been brought out here by a friend or lover and caught unaware, stabbed to death? The ultimate betrayal. The wound to the heart could have been coincidental, the result of an impassioned stabbing that took the weapon all over the girl’s torso without rhyme or reason. The multiple wounds also could have been to cover up the fact the killer had gone straight for the heart—because the killer felt betrayed by the victim first? “Do you know in which order the wounds were made?” she asked.
“I’ll need to look more closely at her back at the morgue.”
She nodded, though disappointed by his seeming go-to response today. “What are the injuries telling you about the killer?”
Rideout popped an eyebrow and smirked. “Isn’t that more your area of expertise, Detective?”
“Yes and no. Suppose I should have been more clear. Are you seeing evidence of hesitation on the killer’s behalf?” Her brain churned up the words serial killer again. She tamped them down.
“None.” His facial expression paled while shadows roved in his eyes.
Amanda shivered, and not just from the cold gust encircling her. The question tossing back and forth in her mind, weighing as if in a counterbalance, continued: were they looking at the work of a serial killer, or was this an isolated incident? “Multiple stab wounds, the posing… the flower.” She paced a few steps. “Cleaning the skin could indicate remorse, as could leaving the flower. Also it would seem whoever did this wanted her to be found. Otherwise, why here?”
Trent blew out a breath. “Beats me. But posing her naked really doesn’t speak of respect to me. So the killer felt remorse but also justified?”
“Could be,” she said, then asked Rideout, “Are you seeing any evidence of sexual assault?”
“No.”
Stripped and presented naked, but not raped. One small mercy, but why leave her so exposed? To humiliate her in death? Brought on by what motive? And had this girl been living a double life—corresponding with the duality of the black orchid’s symbolism? “When can you do the autopsy?”
“I’ll get it done this afternoon.” Rideout looked at Liam, who pulled out a tablet and started swiping his fingertip across the screen.
“Four o’clock,” Liam said.
Despite Liam being a new hire, it was apparent the two of them had mastered unspoken communication.
Rideout faced Amanda and Trent. “Four o’clock.”
She smiled at the unnecessary reiteration. The first twenty-four hours of any murder investigation were crucial, but being present for autopsies was also important. “We’ll be there.”
Rideout dipped his head in acknowledgment and addressed his assistant. “Help me load her up.”
Liam put his tablet away and moved into action.
Amanda and Trent stepped back, giving them the needed space. Her. The poor girl needed a name. “Any distinguishing markers on her body? Tattoos, scars, piercings?”
The men paused all movement. “Nothing that I’ve seen. She’s not a natural blond, though.” Rideout bent down and swept back the hair at her brow. Her roots had grown out about a quarter inch and were dark brown.
“All right. Thanks.” She had been hoping for something a little more substantial if they were to hit the missing persons database in search of her.
“That all?” Rideout angled his head, watching her as if he were frozen in place and waiting for her command.
“Yeah. Thanks.” She turned to Trent, and they stepped farther away from the ME and his assistant.
“I think she knew her killer,” Trent said, tucking his notepad into a pocket of his pants.
“Because…?” She wasn’t a fan of unsubstantiated claims, but she was all for brainstorming.
“What got her here so early otherwise? At her age, I slept in every chance I got.”
“Huh.” She remembered that time of her life, and it felt much longer ago than it actually was. What was sleeping in again? Nothing but a vague memory at this point. “The killer could have also apprehended her elsewhere and brought her here—by force.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“We’ll find out soon enough.” Though not soon enough. While the investigators would eventually find blood evidence or something to determine if this was the scene of the murder, there were still so many unanswered questions. But that was the same for the start of every investigation. What was giving her a headache was not knowing exactly what they were dealing with here. No hesitation marks. An experienced killer? Could they expect more victims before all was said and done?
