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“We’re here,” he said. I hadn’t even realized they’d been back in the room sitting at their own tables. He handed me a cup of coffee but I put it aside.
“We’ve got eight murders if you take out Elliott, who Jack killed during the heist, and Winters who died in the car crash. Those are the only two anomalies.” I took a second to group them together. “We’ve got Wallace, Santos, and Gonzales with the same cause of death. Two gunshot wounds to the back of the head with a large caliber weapon. Testing proved that it came from a .357 Magnum with hollow point bullets. I don’t know the results of Wallace’s findings yet, but that was my assumption when I worked on his body. The weapon is going to be a match among all three. One killer took them out.
“Next we’ve got Dreyer and Thompson.” I grouped their pictures together and then added Wolfe’s next to them. “We’ve got the same thing here. Same cause of death for Dreyer and Thompson, andthe same attempt that happened with Wolfe earlier today. Long range shots from a sniper rifle. The shots were taken by someone highly skilled, and they were kill shots. We got lucky today with Braddock and Wolfe. The weapon and caliber of the bullet are the same. This is going to be Jesse Tydell’s work. He’s your marksman.
“Moving on to the next group.” I arranged the next two pictures together. “We’ve got Price and Garfield with the same cause of death.Slit throat. A fluid motion from left to right, severing the jugular at the entry point. The wound was deep, indicating the strength of the killer, and the angle of the wound indicates the assailant was around the same height as Price and a couple of inches taller than Garfield. He was also right handed since it was a left to right motion.”
I grabbed a step stool and moved behind Carver to demonstrate.
“Oh, man. I hate being the test dummy.”
“Be thankful I’m not using real props.” I grabbed him by the hair and pulled his neck back to expose his throat. “It had to have been fast, considering the size of the victims. Come up behind them out of the blue. It’s a skill. And the depth of the wound showed how strong the killer was. The knife nicked the C4 vertebra in both victims, almost taking their heads off. So you’ve got gang member number three as the killer here. They all have their own MOs.”
“What about Caine?” Jack asked. “His throat was slit too.”
I went back to the table and my photos. “It sure was, but not like Garfield and Price. Caine was found dead in a motel in the Trinidad area of DC. That’s a bad part of town, and word was that Caine was supposed to meet with an informant. He was found in the bed, stripped of all clothing, with his throat slit and other shallow hack marks along the torso. His wallet and any valuables were missing from the scene. No fingerprints, and there’s so much DNA in a room like that it wouldn’t be admissible anyway.”
“I feel like I’m missing something obvious,” Carver said.
“The wound doesn’t match,” I said, showing the crime scene photo of Caine. “It’s a shallower slice, nowhere near close enough to nick vertebra. And see how there’s a jagged edge in the flesh here and here?” I pointed to the two offending spots. “The assailant wasn’t nearly as strong. It was a struggle to tear through the arteries and nick the jugular. It wasn’t even severed all the way, but it was enough for him to bleed out. This was done face to face, in very close contact.”
“Damn,” Jack said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was a woman. Crime of passion, and in the middle of it too. Poor bastard.”
“They didn’t finish,” Isaid, nodding. “Vaginal fluid was found and collected for DNA but tests show they didn’t finish the deed. Not only was it a crime of passion, but she was majorly pissed. See these shallow wounds in the chest? These happened perimortem. She would’ve been covered in blood from head to toe.”
“Do you think there’s a chance ParisSpencer had a connection with Caine?” Jack asked.
“I know she did,” Carver said, going back to his own table and rifling through stacks of paper. “Before Spencer had her nervous breakdown there was a police report filed by some of Caine’s neighbors. Caine was the only one of the team interviewed on television after Boxer and the others were killed. It seems Paris tracked him down and there was some kind of altercation before the police arrived. She disappeared before the police got there, and Caine didn’t know who she was at the time—only that she was a young woman, late twenties or early thirties, with long straight blond hair and blue eyes. Cops were stretched thin so when Paris tried to slit her wrists less than an hour later the connection wasn’t made until she’d already been admitted to psych lockdown.
“This is good stuff, Doc. Enough that I can have Paris Spencer transported across international waters for questioning.”
“The knife wound moved from right to left,” I said.
“Left-handed killer. Paris Spencer is left handed.” Carver smiled. “That information was almost worth missing a night of hot sex for. I’ll alert Greer and we’ll meet here first thing in the morning for a briefing.”
“Then we’d better get some sleep,” Jack said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the door. “Have I ever told you how hot it makes me to watch that brain of yours work?” He leaned down and kissedthe sensitive spot below my ear.
“Oh, man. Why don’t you just rub it in?” Carver complained. “If I hear sex noises coming from your room tonight, I’m going to start shooting through the wall and hope it hits you.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to keep her mouth occupied.” I snorted out a laugh and Jack tossed me over his shoulder and ran up the stairs.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The alarm went off at half past five and I groaned and buried my head under the pillow, pretending it would go away.
“Rise and shine, Doc.”
“I’ve never understood how you can be so cheerful in the mornings without coffee.”
“It’s a gift. I have many.”
I snorted out a laugh and threw off the covers. It was still dark outside, but the house would be swarming with agents before much longer. I sat up on the side of the bed and stretched, rotating my neck to alleviate the stiffness. There hadn’t been much time for sleep the last two days.
Jack was already showered and dressed and he sat down next to me. “Let me see your back.”
I turned and then let out a moan as his fingers worked magic up and down my spine and between my shoulder blades.
“That right there is totally worth marrying you for,” I said between moans.
