Her phone rang and she half expected to see Andy’s name. Realizing it was her mother, she wondered if this woman had an inkling of what she had done. She felt like a traitor and closed her computer screen.
“Mom.”
“Don’t go by the hospital to see Elena today. She’s not there anymore.”
Melina sat forward. “Where is she?”
“She’s with Dad and me. Dad pulled a few strings, and social services agreed to let her come home with us. We picked her up late last night.”
Relief washed over her. “Isn’t that going to be a lot on you with Dad laid up?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Her mother’s voice sounded buoyant, as if she welcomed the challenge.
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing you can do, honey. I’ve got this under control. She’s sleeping in your old bed now.”
“Did you turn on the purple night-light?” Her mother had bought it for her when she was about six, and it still remained in her old room.
“Of course. Put a fresh bulb in yesterday.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Just wanted to let you know so you can focus on the job.” Her mother dropped her voice a notch. “The poor thing was exhausted when we got her home. We watched a movie and ate dinner. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. But a dream woke her up within the hour.”
Melina remembered how the fatigue had always mingled with the fear of dreams. “Has Elena said anything that might help me?”
“Not yet, but if she does, I’ll pass it on.”
“Good.” She sipped her coffee. “I look forward to catching this guy.”
Ramsey met Melina at the TBI offices. He had two coffees waiting, one for himself and the other for her. He had already learned Agent Melina Shepard was more approachable if caffeinated.
“Thanks,” she said, prying off the lid. “I can really use this.”
“Didn’t sleep well?”
“I dabbled on the genealogy website, trying to trace my family tree. I had very little luck. I emailed off what I had to Andy. She’s already on it.”
“Good. Your time is better spent with me.”
“I came to that conclusion very quickly.”
Ramsey drove Melina to the medical examiner’s office. They showed their badges, though the guard recognized Melina. “Agent Shepard, we meet again,” he said.
Melina tucked her badge in her pocket. “No offense, but I can’t say I’m glad to be back,” she said with a smile.
The guard nodded with a slight grin. “No offense taken.”
As Melina and Ramsey walked toward the elevators, she said, “I was here a few times over the winter. A van filled with undocumented workers was found. All the occupants were dead. It took several visits here to sort out identities and causes of death.” When he arched a brow, she added, “Asphyxiation. The truck had a faulty exhaust system and the occupants kept it running to stay warm. They all expired from carbon monoxide poisoning.”
“How did missing persons get involved?” Ramsey asked.
“I tried to match up the dead to their families. I was able to locate families for three of the victims.”
She had worked days, fearing some of the women and men had left behind children and loved ones. In the end, she had been forced to stop and move on to a new case.
They rode the elevator down to the lower level, where the medical examiner performed his autopsies. They gowned up and met the doctor in his autopsy suite.
He stood by the badly decomposing body of Jennifer Brown. Her skin had loosened and drooped from her arms and her abdomen. The decaying process had also darkened her skin and shrunk her cuticles, which gave the impression that her nails had grown. Her left ring finger was missing.
Her head rested above the block tucked under her neck, arching her bruised chin upward. Her blond hair was brushed back, and her eyelids were closed.
“We were just about to start,” Dr. Connor said.
“Thanks for waiting on us,” Ramsey said.
“After seeing that jar full of fingers, I’m happy to expedite this investigation,” Dr. Connor said.
“How long has she been deceased?” Ramsey asked.
“I took her liver temperature, and I estimate she died last Monday to Wednesday.”
“Over a week,” Melina said. “She died before Bonnie stole the pickle jar. Are her prints a match to one of the unidentified fingers?”
“Yes,” the doctor said.
“Cause of death?” Ramsey asked.
Dr. Connor moved to the top of the table. He tilted the head, angling it so that the bruised neck was exposed. “Unless I find evidence to the contrary, I’d say strangulation.”
“The bruising around her neck is defined,” Melina said. “It’s consistent with a choke hold.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what happened,” Dr. Connor said. “Sometimes you see shadow bruising that indicates the killer had to adjust his grip because he didn’t have the strength to maintain the initial choke hold. But in this case, I see none of that. I suspect this killer is physically fit and strangled her without hesitation.”
Dr. Connor then repositioned the head and reached for a scalpel. He positioned the sharp blade at the top of the breastbone and made the Y incision between and under the breasts.
For the next hour, Melina and Ramsey watched as Dr. Connor inspected and weighed the organs, took tissue samples, and then examined for signs of sexual assault. As he had theorized, the victim had been healthy, and there were no signs of intercourse.
When Melina and Ramsey walked out of the medical examiner’s office, she craved the warm sunshine on her face. “I need to call the tour company,” she said. “I want to talk to her boss.” She wondered how Elena was doing with her mother.
Ramsey checked his watch. “It’s eight thirty. They should be open by now.”
“I’ll head straight over and try to catch the crew before too many tourists swamp the place.” Next to learning about any potential stalkers, she wanted to establish a timeline for Jennifer Brown’s last days.
“I’m going to meet with the forensic department and see what evidence they were able to pull from Jennifer Brown’s house,” Ramsey said.
“We’ll reconvene later today.”
“Perfect.” Ramsey dropped Melina off at the TBI offices down the road. As he drove off, she shifted to her car and sat still for a moment, letting the day’s heat warm her chilled bones.
She dialed her mother’s number. “Mom, how’s it going?”
“Elena is still sleeping.”
“She’s doing all right?”
“The poor kid is exhausted. I wonder when she last had the chance to sleep this well. You were much the same when you came to live with us.”
“About that. The woman who had custody of Elena, Bonnie Guthrie, said she knows me.” Melina pinched the bridge of her nose, focusing her energy on a calm, even tone. “She said she was the one that left me on the side of the road outside of Nashville when I was a kid.”
The line was silent. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s my point. I think she’s telling the truth.”
“What kind of monster does that to a five-year-old girl?”
“Believe me, the world has plenty of them.”
“I’d like to meet this woman face to face.” A sharpness honed the edges of her mother’s words.
“You’ll have to stay clear for now.”
“Just let me know when I can.”
“Unsettled business, Mom?”
“Damn right.”
Using the same car dealer was not really smart. But it had been almost ten years since he had bought from the dealer. If a cop should come across this place, no one here would remember him from all those years ago.
He walked into the dealership as soon as it opened. A car salesman was at his side in minutes. An hour later, a deal was sealed, and he was driving off the lot in his new van.
It would take a smart and determined cop to connect all the dots, and so far, he had not crossed paths with any cop who had the staying power to track a guy like him. Cops were somewhat lazy by nature. Most were looking to get home alive and make it to retirement. They had no skin in the game.
Feeling confident, he pulled into a Hardee’s drive-through and ordered three burgers, a bucket of large fries, and a jumbo soda. He had not eaten much in the last few days. Worry always stole the appetite right out of him, and now that he had his van, he was feeling more like himself.
When he pulled up to the window, a pretty young girl with dark hair and a bright smile took his order and handed him back his change. Too bad his van was not ready for her yet.
“Thanks, darlin’,” he said.
“Have a nice day.”
“Always do.”
He drove to the center of a large retail parking lot and sat, eating his burgers first. Second, he ate the fries one by one, and then he drank the soda. It was a quirk of his and never varied.
One food at a time. One woman at a time. Undivided attention was the best.
He dumped his trash in a grocery store trash can and then used their restroom. He washed his hands carefully and bought several protein bars and waters before sliding behind the wheel. He started the engine, savoring its hum. He had had his last van for over ten years. A lot of good memories, and if he thought too hard about it, he got emotional.