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After the team had pulled the vehicle from the lake, Ellie snapped pictures of the debris-coated car and the human remains inside before the medical examiner arrived. Divers were searching the lake and an investigative crime team was scouring for forensics although night would hinder that.
Dr. Laney Whitefeather, the ME, and Derrick arrived at the same time. Laney’s long auburn braid hung over one shoulder, her dark eyes immediately going to the car, an old VW. At one time it must have been a nice shade of green but now what was visible beneath the layers of mud, leaves and sticks was rusted, the paint chipped and faded to a dull pea color.
Derrick looked tired, his brown hair ruffled as if he’d run his hands through it a dozen times. He was lacking a suit today but wore a black T-shirt that stretched across his muscular chest. Ellie wondered how his visit with his godchildren had gone this time, but that conversation had to wait.
Derrick whistled when he saw the state of the vehicle. “You’re right. It’s been here a long time.”
“What do we have?” Dr. Whitefeather asked.
“Not sure yet,” Ellie said. “Body’s decomposed.”
Laney lifted her medical kit. “Let’s open the door so I can take a closer look.”
Cord gave a nod. “Stand back. Water’ll gush out when we do.”
She, Laney and Derrick stepped onto rocks to the right, and Cord used a crowbar to open the car door which was rusted shut. A huge surge of muddy water poured out, debris floating with it. She waited until most of it drained then stepped closer to look inside. Derrick walked around to the rear where the car seat was and looked inside.
Laney shined a light across the remains which had decayed to the point of fossilizing. Brittle slivers of bones were scattered on the seat and floor, now floating in the slush.
“Water and temperature affect decomp,” Laney said. “Hot water speeds up the process but cold water slows it down, so we’ll run tests to determine estimated time and date of death. Closed doors help protect the body from fish and underwater creatures, although smaller ones could have seeped inside,” Laney said.
“Do you think the impact of the crash caused the death?” Ellie asked.
“Won’t know for sure until I get the body on my autopsy table.” The ME examined the back of the skull with narrowed eyes, then slowly lifted the head and studied the front. “Skull looks fractured. Could have been the accident or blunt force trauma.”
Ellie raised a brow. “As in he might have been dead before going into the water?”
“It’s possible but I can’t really say yet. Too many variables.”
With gloved hands, Ellie opened the passenger door, checking the interior hoping to find a wallet. Nothing. She looked inside the dash next. More water spilled out along with something that looked like it might have been paper once. No driver’s license there either.
“See a wallet beneath the body or seat on that side?” Ellie asked.
Laney took a minute to search, then shook her head.
“Odd,” Ellie said beneath her breath. “Derrick?”
“Nothing back here either.” He leaned over, checking the floor. “Wait, there’s a child’s book. Pages are disintegrated but the cover’s intact.”
“Maybe we’ll get prints from it,” Ellie said.
“Not likely,” Derrick muttered. “It’s probably been in the water too long.”
Ellie nodded. “Then let’s get the remains to the morgue so Laney can work her magic. We need an ID.”
“I’ll do my best,” Laney said.
“I’ll run the license plate of the car and see who owned it,” Derrick said. “That’ll give us a place to start.”
TWENTY-ONE
ATLANTA
Forensic psychiatrist Dr. Leon Morehead smiled at the thought of interviewing the Southside Slasher.
Radcliff had owned up to three kills. But he wasn’t spilling his guts on two others that the FBI wanted to connect him to.
His office door opened and his receptionist showed Odessa Muldane inside. He placed his mini recorder on the desk in his office and studied her. Although it was late in the day for an appointment, he’d made an exception. His coworker had recently retired and passed on his caseload, stating that this one was interesting.
