The Killing Vision - By Will Overby Page 0,14

on his boxers and headed toward the front door. He slid the chain from the slot and reached out into the hallway for his morning paper, then made his way through the dark living room toward the kitchen. While his coffee brewed, he unfolded the paper on the table and blew out a breath, staring down at the top story:

STILL NO SUSPECTS IN GIRL’S MURDER

Officials said Friday there are still no leads in the murder of 14-year-old Sarah Jo McElvoy of Cedar Hill.

Police Chief Norman Pettus said the investigation is proceeding “as well as can be expected,” although there are currently no suspects and no apparent motive. The young girl’s body was pulled from Cedar Hill’s Riverside Landing on Red River July 4.

Pettus declined to comment on whether McElvoy had been sexually assaulted, but sources close to the Cedar Hill police department said the girl had been violated by a blunt wooden object.

Halloran pounded his fist on the table. “Shit.” He had tried hard to keep that fact out of the paper, but someone in the police department was always willing to talk, especially when gory details were involved. At least there was no mention of the body being frozen. He could only imagine what kind of alarm that would set off in the community.

He folded up the paper and tossed it aside, then poured himself a cup of coffee. He stood at the counter, sipping it, then set his cup down. His briefcase was in the corner by the refrigerator. He reached for it, then plopped it down on the table and pulled out the file on Sarah Jo McElvoy.

In the back of the folder, tucked inside a large manila envelope, were the crime-scene photos from Wednesday night. He pulled them out and spread them over the table.

There really wasn’t much to see. The girl’s body was half on the dirt shore, half in the river, surrounded by piles of rotting tree limbs that had apparently been used to hide her. Close-ups of the body revealed the putrefying skin bloated over the bones, hellish and gruesome. The dirt of the riverbank was covered in shoe prints; probably dozens of people had been along the landing that day, and who knew how many since the body had been placed there, and the freshest prints were those of the Davis boy and his girlfriend. How many times had that very place been searched since April? At least three times that he knew of. When had someone taken the body down there and concealed it under a pile of rotting limbs? And why? And who?

Another envelope in the file contained the photos from the autopsy, which he had just received yesterday from Scotty. Several of the pictures showed close-ups of the throat wound from different angles, but again there was not much to look at. In one photo, a measuring tape showed the slit to be a little over six inches long.

See me?

A sudden chill rattled him. He shoved the pictures back into the envelopes, then locked the file back in his briefcase. It was too early in the morning for this shit. Way too early. He rubbed his blurry eyes.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. Something important. And he didn’t believe he would find it in the file.

* * *

11:43 AM

Joel pulled his Explorer onto the highway and headed in toward town. There were several things he needed at Walmart, chief among them coffee and cigarettes. It was kind of sad when your very existence revolved around such things. He sucked on the Marlboro between his lips, savoring the flavor of the smoke as it rolled over his tongue and down his throat. Oh, well. Things could always be worse. At least it was a bright sunny day, Luke Bryan was on the radio, and his pack of smokes was still half full. Yeah, things could always be a lot worse.

Almost as an afterthought, he decided he would stop by Wade’s before he made it all the way into Cedar Hill. Perhaps they might work on the Mustang this afternoon, and Joel could always pick up something while he was in town.

He pulled into the driveway, his wheels crunching on the dry gravel. Wade sat on the edge of the front porch, wearing only a pair of cutoff denim shorts. Beside him was an opened can of Budweiser. Shit. He knew what an asshole Wade could be when he was drinking, and he wondered if stopping was