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“I’ve been at this a while,” Josie said. “Most bodies we recover—that are still relatively intact—have their eyes closed.”
Anya checked around the woman’s ears. “Open eyes after death is a lot less common than closed eyes. Usually if they’re open postmortem, it’s due to some kind of central nervous system tumor, liver failure or other disease. Sometimes medication. In this case, like with Sharon Eddy, it’s probably just a result of muscle spasms that took place as the body was shutting down. Look at this.”
She held the woman’s chin up with one hand and used the other to point at a ring of bruises around the woman’s throat. They were nearly indistinguishable from the discoloration caused by the settling of her blood, but Josie could make out a pattern. Fingerprints.
Shit, Josie thought.
Anya said, “Camera.”
Josie picked up the camera and handed it to her. While Anya took photos of the woman’s throat, Josie’s gaze was drawn to something small and black beside the body. On closer inspection, she realized it was a purse. After pointing it out to Anya, Josie called Hummel over. He took photos of it and then carefully extricated it from where it had lodged under the body. “The strap broke,” he noted. “Must have happened on the way down and then the bag got trapped under her.”
His gloved fingers tugged the zipper open and then searched inside until he came up with a driver’s license. He held it out so Josie could see. In the photo, the woman’s blue eyes were warm and clear, exuding intelligence. Blonde curls, void of dirt or debris, fell to her shoulders. “Keri Cryer,” she read. “Age thirty-five. She lives in Central Denton.”
Josie committed the address to memory while Hummel returned Keri Cryer’s license to her purse and then deposited the purse into an evidence bag. Anya finished up her photos of the strangulation marks. She set her camera down and took in a shuddering breath. “Okay, Keri, let’s have a look at your hip.”
It took some tugging, but Josie and Anya finally pried the waistband of Keri’s skirt and her underwear away from her hips. When they saw blistered flesh on her left side, Anya gasped. Josie stared at the brand. This one had even less clarity than the one they’d found on Sharon Eddy. Only the top of the horseshoe and one half of the arrow were seared into her skin. Above and below them were additional burns. Josie said, “She didn’t make it easy for him. She must have fought back.”
Anya wiped away a tear and leaned in to have a closer look. “You’re right. He wasn’t able to fully brand her.”
“Or he just gave up,” Josie said.
“Good,” said Anya. She surveyed the body once more. “Let’s hope she fought hard enough to take some DNA from him that will help you put him away for life.”
TWENTY-TWO
Keri Cryer had lived in an apartment that took up the first floor of a two-story brick building in Denton’s central business district. It was only a few blocks from where many of the city’s businesses lined the streets. The parking was bad, but the house was within walking distance to just about everything a person might need. Josie and Noah had gone back to the station after Cryer’s body was processed and removed from the riverbank to write up reports, prepare warrants, and find out as much information about Cryer as possible. She had no motor vehicles currently registered in her name. She had rented the apartment in Denton approximately five months earlier. Before that, she’d lived in Bradysport.
It wasn’t lost on Josie that Keri Cryer had lived in the largest city in Everett County before moving to Denton.
They’d gotten a warrant to search her apartment and called the landlord only to find out that she lived on the second floor of the building. It was dark by the time Josie and Noah arrived. She was waiting for them on the front porch, the exterior light casting a circle around her. Josie estimated her to be in her early sixties. She was thin, dressed casually in jeans and a cream-colored sweater, over which she wore a purple shawl. A hand thrust from one of its folds as they crested the porch steps. “Scarlett Claire March,” she announced. She shook Noah’s hand first. “This is my place. You’re the police?” Then she grasped Josie’s hand in hers, her brown eyes brightening. “Never mind, I recognize you from TV. Well, I had no idea I’d be meeting someone famous!”
Josie gave her a tight smile. She certainly didn’t think of herself as famous. She had appeared on television in her capacity as a detective dozens of times, but it was theDatelinesshe’d done with Trinity after their past was discovered that always made people feel as though they were meeting a celebrity. There were times that Josie regretted having done them, mainly when her notoriety caused people to dislike her on sight. Thankfully, this didn’t seem to be one of those times. Josie ran a hand through her hair. “Miss March, as my colleague told you on the phone, we’re here to talk to you about your tenant, Keri Cryer. We’ve got a warrant to search her apartment. She is the only tenant here, correct?”
“The only person I rent to, yes,” Scarlett confirmed. “Though she’s had a boyfriend over an awful lot lately. She said he’s just ‘staying’ here sometimes, but he’s here an awful lot.”
Josie asked, “When is the last time you saw him?”
Scarlett shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Two, three days ago?”
“Does he have a key to the apartment?” asked Noah.
“Certainly not. He’s not on the lease!”
“Great,” said Noah. “We’ll just need you to let us in.”
From somewhere beneath the folds of the shawl, another hand appeared with a key ring. “I’m happy to let you in, but in the lease I’ve got with Keri, it says I have to give her twenty-four hours’ notice before I enter. Then again, if you guys are here, it’s probably an emergency.”
“In a manner of speaking,” Josie said. She was loath to let Scarlett know that Keri was dead before the medical examiner had had a chance to track down and notify Keri’s next of kin. Then again, the last they’d spoken to Dr. Feist’s colleague, he hadn’t had any luck locating that next of kin. Nor had Josie, using the police databases at her disposal. They’d have the contacts from Keri’s phone as soon as Hummel used the GrayKey to get into it, but that might take a while.
As if reading her mind, Noah said, “Miss March—”
“Call me Scarlett, honey.”
He smiled. “Scarlett, do you happen to have an emergency contact for Keri on file?”
She frowned. “Oh no. Something’s happened to that poor girl, hasn’t it?”
Josie said, “We’re not at liberty to give out many details at this point, but we really do need to speak with her next of kin.”
