EXCERPT “Well, our little vacation has come to a
screeching halt.” Jim DeVilla lifted the sheet and turned to Mort when he
joined him in the wooded ravine. The deep and narrow valley looked like the
perfect spot for a weekend hiking challenge. But four police cruisers throwing
a blue and red light show on the handful of forensic officers announced this
quiet parcel of paradise was now a crime scene. “Looks like I’m gonna have to
cancel that salsa-dancing class.”
Mort, Seattle’s chief of detectives, didn’t react
to his friend’s humor. He stared down at the body and thought how beautiful she
looked. Like
she lay down after a picnic and decided to take a nap, he
thought. Her long blonde hair had the tousled look of someone who had spent the
morning exploring this lush part of the forest. The faint tinge of blue on her
lips and eyelids seemed eerily in keeping with her pale complexion. She’s just a kid.
I’ll bet she’s hardly old enough to buy a beer. He heaved
a sigh. What
do I know about anything? They all look young these
days. He spoke to a wiry man kneeling next to the
body and jotting notes with gloved hands.
“What d’ya got, Doc?”
Tyler Conner shook his head. “I’ll know more once I
get her back to the morgue.” Dr. Conner used his pen to trace a slice on the dead
woman’s neck. “This wasn’t the fatal cut. It looks worse than it is. Somebody
was taking their time. She’s got dozens of these superficial wounds.” He lifted
the hem of her blood-soaked dress. Mort noted the shiny fabric. Whoever she
was, this girl wasn’t dressed for a day in the woods.
“This is what killed her.” Dr. Conner pointed to a
deep gash on the upper thigh. “Femoral artery. Deep and clean enough to make me
suspect some sort of surgical instrument. She would have bled out in less than
two minutes.”
Mort’s jaw tightened. “This happen here?”
Conner shook his head. “Her dress soaked up blood,
sure enough. But look at the ground. Not a drop. It hasn’t rained in days. The
grass is dry. See her shoes?” Mort and Jimmy both followed his direction to
catch a glimpse of the dead woman’s strappy footwear.
“No mud,” Jimmy said. “I peg her at about one-ten,
maybe one hundred fifteen pounds.” He looked up the ravine wall to where four
uniformed officers leaned against their squad cars. “If she walked down here,
she’d have driven those spike heels deep into the ground. More than likely
broken ’em off. Somebody carried her in.”
Mort agreed. “You got an estimate to when this
happened?”
“It was balmy last night. Nothing that should have
messed with my reading of the body’s core temperature. She’s been dead no more
than eight hours. Probably a half hour less than that. Again, I’ll know more
once I get her back to the shop.”
Mort looked at his watch. Ten minutes after eight
on a beautiful June morning. Whoever this lovely young woman was died somewhere
around midnight last night.
“We got an ID?” Mort asked Jimmy.
“We should get so lucky. No personal effects
anywhere that we can see. But I took some quick prints,” DeVilla answered.
“Sent Micki and Bruiser back to run ’em. Hopefully, we’ll get a hit. Sent her
with a couple of photos, too.”
“Face? Dress?” Mort asked.
Jim DeVilla shrugged. “Pretty routine for the most
part.”
“For the most part?”
all zombielike I didn’t know if you were tuned in.” DeVilla raised the dead
woman’s arm and turned it toward Mort. “I thought this was interesting. Mick’s
gonna run this through the computer and see what’s what.”
Mort stepped forward for a closer look at the
decorative red circle tattooed on the inside of the dead girl’s wrist. “Looks
like a couple of eagles to me.”
“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “Either that or a bird with two
heads. You ever see anything like that before?”
Something teased at the back of his brain. He tried
to focus but couldn’t catch it. “Family crest, maybe?” He looked again. “Looks
like it might be some sort of official emblem.”
“Well.” Jim DeVilla lowered the woman’s arm and
stood. “It sure as hell wasn’t her good luck charm.”
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