Mariah Stewart - Cold Truth

He knew what it was, and had a sinking feeling he knew what it would say.

Opening the top drawer of the filing cabinet, he reached in and pulled out a pair of thin rubber gloves, which he slipped on. Just a precaution, though. He knew there’d be no prints on the envelope, nor on the single sheet of paper he’d find inside.

He slid the paper out and held it up. It gave him no satisfaction to be right.

Hey, Denver! Remember me?

The body of the young woman had been left on the ground, uncannily positioned in much the same manner as Linda Roman had been. On her side, arms over her head, her long dark hair covering her face. It took all of Cass’s willpower not to turn her over, just to make sure it wasn’t Linda Roman.

Snap out of it, she demanded when she realized she was simply staring at the body. Take a deep breath. Do your job.

She put in a call to the station for some portable lights. Although the sun would soon be up, the cloud cover and mist would keep the scene too dark to gather much evidence.

She dug the camera out of her bag, set it for flash, and began taking pictures of the body, of the scene, the alley, the fence. She found herself growing angry with the person who had taken this young woman’s life and left her lying naked on the cold black asphalt, with the morning drizzle running off her body.

And probably washing away evidence.

She was grateful to see Tasha walking toward her. The CSI lugged her black bag, which some joked weighed almost as much as Tasha herself, who barely hit the scales at one hundred pounds and was maybe five-two if she stood up really straight. With her dark blond hair cut short, she looked like a pixie. A tiny pixie who had nerves of steel and a stomach of cast iron. Cass had never heard of Tasha backing away from anything, neither a crime scene nor an accident. It was said that even the most gruesome sights-those that made the big guys gag and cringe-barely made Tasha blink.

“Well, shit, would you look at this,” Tasha said as she set down her evidence bag and opened it. “Two in one week?” She shook her head and looked up at Cass. “I’d say we have a problem here.”

“I always admire the way you get right to the point, Tasha.” Cass crouched down and took another few shots of the body.

“What’s the point in pussyfooting around.” Tasha pulled on her gloves. “You got two bodies in what… four days? Two victims who, at first glance, bear a strong resemblance to each other. Bodies positioned the same way-and look at that hair, the way it’s covering her face. I’d bet you a month’s salary that she’s been manually strangled and raped, just like the other one, but you’re too smart to take a bet like that, Burke.”

Tasha bent down next to the body, and eased the hair from around the victim’s neck.

“Oh, yeah. There they are.” She studied the bruises, all the while murmuring to the dead girl, “Ah, honey, what did he do to you?”

Cass snapped a few more pictures.

“Burke, did you get her fingers?” Tasha asked, and Cass nodded. “One of them looks to be broken.”

“I’m pretty much finished with the body from this angle. I’m waiting for some lights so I can begin to look around the alley. I’d hate to kick evidence aside and miss something important.” Cass stood and straightened her back. “She’s all yours.”

“Well, don’t go too far with that.” Tasha pointed to the camera. “As soon as I’m done on this side, I’m going to want to turn her over. You can give me a hand. Let me see what’s what under these fingernails…”

Cass stood back and waited for Tasha to finish her ministrations. A car pulled into the driveway, its lights illuminating the scene. Jeff Spencer got out of the driver’s side and hurried up the walk.

“Where have you been?” Cass asked.

He shrugged, mumbling something unintelligible.

“Jeff, we have another homicide here,” she pointed out the obvious, taking care not to raise her voice. “Second one this week. We need-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what we need,” he muttered under his breath as he walked past her, toward the body.

Cass stared at his back, then shook it off. Must have had a bad night, she thought, then turned to wave to the officers that pulled into the drive and started to unload the lights.

“Yay. Lights. Up here.” She motioned them along. “Set them up right here…”

The lights brought new visibility to the scene, and the area was carefully searched for anything that the killer might have brought with him or left behind. Several cigarette butts near a hole in the fence went into a small plastic evidence bag, as did a drink container from a local fast-food restaurant and a dirty white sock. Any or none could have a connection to the killer. Only lab analysis would tell, and that not for a few more days, if ever.

“Huh…” Cass heard Tasha say softly.

“What?” She turned to see the CSI kneeling behind the body, a pair of tweezers in her right hand. She appeared to be inspecting something on the back of the dead woman’s head. Whatever it was, it was invisible to Cass. “What did you find?”

“Some fiber” was the reply. Tasha crooked a finger at Cass. “Take a shot of this for me before I remove it.”

Cass leaned forward to line up the shot as she was directed. Tasha slipped the thread into a bag, which she sealed and marked. She looked at Cass and said, “I found some similar trace tangled in the hair of our first victim.”

“The same type of fiber? Blanket? Carpet?”

“Too long to be either. It’s long and thin.”

“Rope, maybe? Something he might have used to tie them up with, subdue them?” Cass’s mind started to consider different possibilities.

“Nooo,” Tasha said slowly. She held the bag up as if inspecting its contents. “I don’t think it’s rope, it’s not that substantial. It looks thinner, more delicate. I can’t wait to get back to the lab to check it out.”

“Did you analyze the fiber you found on Linda Roman?”

“Not yet. I was concentrating on the trace from under her fingernails, trying to find skin cells, something that would give me DNA. The fiber is still in the evidence box, but I think it just moved to the top of the list.”

“You’ll let me know?”

“Do I get a set of those prints?” Tasha nodded at the camera Cass held in her right hand.

“I’ll run them off as soon as I get back to the office.”

“Then you’ll be the first to know what the little fibers are.”

“Chief, there are reporters from four television stations and nine newspapers in the lobby,” Phyllis announced through the intercom.

“Yes, I know,” Denver replied. “I haven’t decided what I want to tell them.”

“May I come in there for a moment?” Her voice sounded shaky.

“Sure,” he said, somewhat taken aback. Normally sure and confident, it wasn’t like Phyl to be so hesitant.

The intercom clicked off and seconds later the door between the chief’s office and his secretary opened. Phyl came into the room holding a can of Diet Pepsi in one hand and a chewed-up pencil in the other. She set the can on the chief’s desk, and twirled the pencil between her index and middle fingers.

“What’s on your mind, Phyl?”

“I just saw the pictures of this new one-this new murder victim-on Detective Burke’s desk. The body from this morning. I think I might know her. I think I might know who she is, Chief.”

“You do?” He frowned. His detectives were still checking missing persons leads.

“She does manicures at the Red Rose Salon down at Fifth and Marshall.”

“You have a name?”

“Lisa. I don’t know her last name. But I’m pretty sure her first name is Lisa.”