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She was trapped, the only way out was to climb, and she couldn’t. She was intoxicated
He swatted at the flies.
The bastard didn’t kill her to feed, he drank less than a liter of blood. This was just sport, thrill of the hunt…sadistic satisfaction.
He stood up, balancing his weight on the side of the cab.
He’s taunting me, the fucker’s out and out playing with my head, using these females as if…
His thoughts were cut short, the scent of men approaching. A superficial glance over his shoulder revealed the officers fighting the thick underbrush, climbing the steep bank toward him. He dropped his eyes back to the corpse.
Is it possible he knows of my promise to Anstosa or is this punishment for interfering with his lust for Donja?
He tightened his jaw which twitched mercilessly.
I’ve got to stop him, Donja’s next!
“Damn gruesome sight,” a voice behind him drew him from reverie. He spun and met the gaze of Boyce Littlefield, forensic examiner from the Michigan Soo.
Torin shook his head, drawing a breath through his nose.
“Mask?” Boyce asked, offering one which he held in his hand.
“Thanks,” Torin said donning the slip on, paper mask which slightly dampened the stench. He moved aside, offered a hand and pulled Littlefield up and onto the side of the cab. They steadied themselves, the vehicle creaking as it settled under the additional weight. Littlefield, eased himself down inside the back door, feet braced, one on the front passenger headrest, the other inches from her head.
Torin watched as the investigator began to gather blood samples, broken finger nails and scraps of her shredded clothing and though Torin liked working with Gage, who hid incriminating clues left behind by immortals, there was nothing to fear from Littlefield’s findings. This sadistic predator would never be caught, arraigned or brought to justice, at least not the human kind.
Littlefield finished his task. Torin offered a hand and helped ease him up and out of the cab. Littlefield cocked his head back to the corpse. “She was trapped, shackled by her seat belt which cut deep into her abdomen. That back seat was nothing short of a torture chamber. Sickening.”
“At least she was intoxicated,” Torin said. “It might have dulled the pain.”
Littlefield knitted his brows. “And just how would you know that without testing my tissue samples?”
“I saw her, two nights ago at Observers,” Torin answered. “She was intoxicated and underage, so I paid the bartender to call her a cab. I had no idea I was paying for her death bed.”
“Did you get her name?”
“No,” Torin sighed, then leapt to the ground as Littlefield dusted the mangled front door for fingerprints.
Joe Effa, a senior officer, chimed in. “We found her name, Becky Highwater, on the Cabbie’s log book. We ran her stats, she’s eighteen, college student, first year. Her parents are being brought in now, but the mother reports that Becky and a young woman named Heather Boyet, who is their next-door neighbor, were at Observers on Friday night. I sent an officer to interrogate Heather, but she was gone. The housekeeper tipped us off and we caught her at the airport. Seems she is leaving the country, headed for London.
“That’s unusual, her friend’s murdered and she leaves. Is she running?” Torin asked.
“No, seems this move was planned months ago.”
“So, did this Heather have any idea as to what happened?” Torin questioned, a bit fearful that this was getting out of control and though he respected these men, he would kill every one of them to silence tongues which might reveal Iridescent lineage.
“Heather had no idea what happened, or at least that’s her story,” Effa remarked. “She reports she got sick, seems she’s pregnant and was throwing up. She stated that she called a cab around eight, left Becky at the bar and went to the casino to meet her boyfriend. She said she spent the night there with the boyfriend and never heard from the victim.”
“Does the boyfriend corroborate her story? Torin asked.
“We haven’t reached him yet,” Effa retorted.
“Any other clues?” Torin asked.
Effa met his gaze. “The mother of the victim said they had phone calls with messages on their landline from a Makayla Hampton.”
Torin felt his pulse quicken.
