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“A brother. A chaplain up in the holler.”
“Ty will want to know that her brother’s religious,” Violet said.
Asa agreed. “We need to get some dinner, stop in and pick up Owen and Ty then settle in at our lodging. Tomorrow, we can start fresh at the command post.” He turned to the coroner. “Toxicology and rape kit?”
“We did a tox screen. Most anesthesia wears off and leaves the system, but Agent Pulaski with the Louisville FBI sent blood samples to Quantico. We did find a spermicide. I can’t say definitively that she was sexually assaulted, but I can say she had intercourse prior to death.”
Dr. Lanslow shifted from one foot to the other, but his face remained stoic.
Asa’s lips twisted, and he puffed his frustration through his nose. “Okay, thank you for your help.”
“I’ll have my official report to you in a couple of days.”
On their way out, Violet frowned. “I think Dr. D.J. Lanslow is hiding something. And I definitely believe he knew Atta Atwater.”
“You think everyone is hiding something,” Fiona said.
“Everyone is.” She huffed and they climbed inside the SUV.
John buckled up. “We need to find out who she dated or if she was a fling kind of girl. Where she hung out. With whom.”
Asa glanced in the rearview.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. All theories, suggestions and thoughts are welcome.”
Totally cool dude. No narcissism or rivalry. No wonder young agents badly wanted on this team. “While we might be looking for someone with a medical background, we can’t rule out other occupations or hobbies that would require sewing, stitching or removing body parts.” He winced just saying it.
Violet draped her FBI windbreaker over her lap and shifted to face John. “Taxidermist comes to mind. Even a skilled hunter—which might make everyone up here a suspect. Or it could be someone who started out young cutting up cats and squirrels and who knows what else. We can’t say for sure.”
“Hopefully the tox screen will help us out. What other drugs would put someone under deep enough to remove their eyes without them waking from the pain?” Asa asked.
“No one said he gave her anything,” Violet said. “We assume because we don’t want to imagine him binding them head, body, torso, hands and feet. That’s deplorable and diabolical. But it is still a possibility. Women poke out attackers’ eyes all the time. Doesn’t kill them.”
John swallowed down the nauseating saliva forming in his mouth. “Callie’s eyes were sutured postmortem, and her eyeballs weren’t taken. No sign of sexual assault that they could determine.”
“She was taken four years ago.” Violet nibbled on her thumbnail. “Placed in a coal mine. Sounds like he was forming his signature with your wife, and now he’s perfected it. Also, it’s possible we have more victims in other locations. Let’s get Owen on caves and mines in the area. We can’t comb them all, but we might be able to narrow down other crime scenes. If he is using tools—whether or not they were under or conscious—he’s not doing it in the cave.”
They needed to discover where.
“Maybe the ERT will link something from the cabin you and John found earlier to the victims or the scene,” Asa said as he pulled into the tiny lot at the sheriff’s office. “Ready to meet the team who doesn’t want us here? And probably even more so since having to deal with Tiberius for the past forty minutes.”
Fiona snickered.
“Someone does want us here, though,” Violet said. “A man who wants to remain anonymous. Who believes that the local law won’t do anything about these murders. Could be someone inside the blue line. Or media. Or someone who knows something.”
They could ask about who might have been in the Black Feather bar that night around the time the call came in, but that didn’t mean the locals were going to be forthcoming.
“We’ll keep trying to find Mr. Anonymous, but I’m not expecting answers,” Asa said, and they exited the SUV. Entering the small station, heads turned, all eyes on their team.
“How can we help you?” the woman at the reception desk asked.
“I got this, Bonnie.” The CID detective from the scene earlier approached with his sports coat draped over his arm and car keys in hand. He was over six feet with a thick, salt-and-pepper military cut. His arms were beefy but his slight paunch said he also enjoyed beer. Crinkles creased around his dark eyes—so black they were almost blue. “Homicide Detective Regis Owsley.” He introduced himself and shook hands with the team. “I’ll be helpin’ ya on the case.”
“You were first on the scene?” Asa asked, but Regis’s eyes were glued to Violet. Finally, he averted his gaze and answered Asa.
“I was. Quite a sight. Quite a sight.” He pointed behind him. “I gotta be somewhere, but the room is all ready for ya. Your partners are in there. You need anything ask Bonnie here.”
