Lisa Gardner - The killing hour

The ME put his hand on her cheeks, turned her head from side to side. Then suddenly, he flinched and snatched his hand away.

“What?” the older agent asked.

“I don’t… Nothing.”

“Nothing? What kind of nothing?”

“Trick of the light,” the ME muttered, but he didn’t put his hand back on the girl’s face. “Looks like sewing thread,” he said curtly. “Thick, maybe like what’s used for upholstery. It’s certainly not medical. The stitching is too rudimentary to be a professional’s. Just small flecks of blood, so the mutilation probably occurred postmortem.”

There was a green leaf caught in the girl’s tangled blond hair. The ME distractedly pulled it free and let it flutter away. He moved on to her hands, flung above her head. One was curled closed. Gently, he unrolled her fingers. Inside her grip, nestled against her palm, was a jagged green-gray rock.

“Hey,” he called to the younger special agent. “Want to get a picture of this?”

The kid obediently came over and snapped away. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. A rock of some kind. Going to bag and tag?”

“Right.” The kid fetched an evidence container. He dropped the rock in and dutifully filled out the top form.

“No obvious defensive wounds. Oh, here we go.” The ME’s gloved thumb moved up her left arm to a red, swollen patch high on her shoulder. “Injection mark. Just the faintest bruising, so it probably occurred right before death.”

“Overdose?” the older agent asked with a frown.

“Of some kind. An intramuscular injection isn’t very common for drugs; they’re generally administered intravenously.” The ME lifted the girl’s skirt again. He inspected the inside of her thighs, then moved down to between her toes. Finally, he inspected the webbing between her index finger and thumb. “No track marks. Whatever happened, she’s not a habitual user.”

“Wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Possibly.”

Older Special Agent sighed. “We’re going to need an ID right away. Can you print her here?”

“I’d prefer to wait until the morgue, when we can test her hands for blood and skin samples. If you’re in a real hurry, though, you can always check her purse.”

“What?”

The ME smiled broadly, then took pity on the Naval cop. “Over there, on the rock outside the crime-scene tape. The black leather backpack thingy. My daughter has one just like it. It’s very hip.”

“Of all the stupid, miserable, incompetent…” Older Special Agent wasn’t very happy. He got the kid to photograph the purse, then had two sentries expand the crime-scene perimeter to include the leather bag. Finally, with gloved hands, he retrieved the item. “Note that we need to take full inventory,” he instructed his assistant. “For now, however, we’ll detail the wallet.”

The kid set down the camera and immediately took up paper and pencil.

“Okay, here we go. Wallet, also black leather… Let’s see, it contains a grocery store card, a Petco card, a Blockbuster card, another grocery store card, and… no driver’s license. There’s thirty-three dollars in here, but no driver’s license, no credit cards, and for that matter, no kind of any card bearing a person’s name. What does that tell us?”

“He doesn’t want us to know her ID,” the kid said eagerly.

“Yeah.” Older Special Agent was frowning. “How about that? You know what? We’re missing something else. Keys.” He shook the bag, but there was no telltale jingle. “What kind of person doesn’t have keys?”

“Maybe he’s a thief? He’s got her address from the license, plus the house keys… It’s not like she’s going to come home anytime soon.”

“Possibly.” But the Naval officer was looking at the stitched-up mouth and frowning. From her vantage point behind a tree, Kimberly could read his thoughts: What kind of thief stitched up a woman’s mouth? For that matter, what kind of thief dumped a body in the middle of a Marine base?

“I need to fetch paper bags for the hands,” the ME reported. “They’re back in my van.”

“We’ll walk with you. I want to review a few more things.” The older Naval officer jerked his head toward his counterpart, and the younger man immediately fell into step. They headed off down the dirt path, leaving the sprawling corpse alone with the four sentries.

Kimberly was just considering how to make a stealthy exit herself, when a strong hand snapped around her wrist. In the next instant, a second hand smothered her mouth. She didn’t bother with screaming; she bit him instead.

“Damn,” a deep voice rumbled in her ear. “Do you ever talk first and shoot later? I keep running into you, I’m not gonna have any hide left.”

Kimberly recognized the voice. She relaxed against his large body, but grudgingly. In return, he removed both hands.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, casting a furtive glance at the crime-scene attendants. She turned to face Special Agent McCormack and he frowned.

“What happened to you?” He held up a silencing hand. “Wait, I don’t want to see the other guy.”

Kimberly touched her face. For the first time she felt the zigzag welts creasing her nose and cheeks with flecks of dried blood. Her scramble through the woods had taken its toll after all. No wonder her supervisor had tried to send her to her room.

“What are you doing here?” she asked again, voice low.

“Heard a rumor. Decided to follow it up.” His gaze briefly skimmed down her body. “I heard a young new agent made the find. I take it you had the honors? Little ways off the PT course, don’t you think?”

Kimberly simply glared at him. He shrugged and returned their attention to the crime scene.

“I want that leaf,” his voice rumbled in her ear. “You see the one the ME pulled out of the victim’s hair-”

“Not proper protocol.”

“You tell him, honey. I want that leaf. And as long as you’re here, you might as well help me get it.”

She jerked away from him. “I will not-”

“Just distract the sentries. Strike up a conversation, bat those baby blues and in sixty seconds, I’ll be in and out.”

Kimberly frowned at him. “You distract the guards, I’ll grab the leaf,” she said.

He looked at her as if she were slightly slow. “Honey,” he drawled. “You’re a girl. ”

“So I can’t grab a leaf?” Her voice rose unconsciously.

He covered her mouth with his palm again. “No, but you surely have a bit more natural appeal to young men than I do.” He glanced down the wooded path at the direction the ME and two Naval investigators had gone. “Come on, sugar. We don’t have the rest of our lives.”

He’s an idiot, she thought. Sexist, too. But she nodded anyway. The ME had been grossly negligent to pull the leaf out of the girl’s hair, and it would be best if someone retrieved it.

Mac motioned to the left pair of guards and how he wanted her to draw them to the front. Then he’d go in from the back.

Thirty seconds later, taking a deep breath, Kimberly made a big production of walking from the woods right onto the dirt path. She made a sharp left and walked straight up to the pair of sentries.

“I just need to see the body for a moment,” she said breezily.

“This area is restricted, ma’am.” The first sentry spoke in clipped tones, his gaze fixed somewhere past her left ear.

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Kimberly waved her hand negligently and stepped forward.

The young sentry made a discreet move left and without seeming to exert any real effort, blocked her path.

“Excuse me,” Kimberly said firmly. “But I don’t think you understand. I have clearance. I’m part of the case. For heaven’s sake, I was the first officer at the scene.”