Last Girls Alive (Detective Katie Scott #4) - Jennifer Chase Page 0,12
both get started on the investigation and give you a direction. I’ve already emailed you what I’m going to tell you now and I will update you when the autopsy and toxicology reports are finalized.”
“Of course,” she said, her voice sounding a bit hoarse and tinny in the room.
“Cause of death—asphyxiation by strangulation. It appears that a thin twine of some type was used. Similar to the twine tied around her wrist. I’ve forwarded this information to John to see if he can get a better clarification for you. And… of course, manner of death, I’m ruling a homicide.”
“Was there any other trauma to the body? Injuries? Sexual or otherwise?” she asked.
“No,” he said and politely waited for her to ask more questions.
Katie studied the body, noting the missing skin and decomposition. “How long do you think she has been dead?”
“About two to three months based on decomposition, the condition of the body, and soil type. I’m not familiar with the area she was recovered from, but I know we’ve had an unusual amount of rain these past few weeks so that could change that estimate, give or take two weeks.”
“These bare areas,” Katie said, pointing to patches of missing flesh. “Is that normal after being buried in the soil underground for that amount of time?”
“Generally speaking—yes.”
“What about…” began Katie. She paused and then said, “Can we see her back?”
“Of course.”
Dr. Dean rolled the girl to one side so Katie and McGaven could see her back. Katie pulled her cell phone from her pocket and took a quick photo of the writing.
“What do you think made those marks?” she said.
“Hard to say, but it was definitely done post mortem. The blood had already stopped pumping, which made it easier for the killer to make the letters with less bleeding and no movement.”
Katie leaned closer.
“If you look at it magnified it’s not a clean cut you would get from a precision instrument like a scalpel. It’s thick with a blunt or a curved side.” He read the words out loud. “My Italian is minimal, but it’s something about a tracker?”
“Close. It means hunter-gatherer.”
“Wasn’t there an old movie called Hunter-Gatherer?”
Katie looked at McGaven as the doctor let the body lie on its back again.
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m going to check everywhere.”
“There you go,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry, but I’m late for an appointment. Do you need anything else right now?”
“No, I think we can get started.”
“Nice to see you both,” he said, looking directly at Katie.
“Thank you for the speedy information, Doctor.”
“My pleasure. I wanted you to know that your victim isn’t Candace Harlan as soon as possible,” he said and left the room.
Katie took another look at the body before she headed for the door.
“So, Candace Harlan is still missing?” said McGaven following her.
“Afraid so,” she said.
“So is it still our homicide? I mean, it’s not one of our cold cases.”
Katie sighed. “Technically, you’re right. We need to talk to the sheriff.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Seven
Monday 1935 hours
Katie drove the unmarked police cruiser up her long driveway and cut the engine. She sat behind the wheel and didn’t move at first. It was only Monday and she was already exhausted. Glancing at her watch, it was later than she realized. A familiar sound interrupted her musings over the new homicide. The distinct bark could only belong to a German shepherd. Loud. Rapid. And at times incessant.
“I’m coming, Cisco,” she said, popping out of the car and trudging toward the front porch of her farmhouse carrying her thoughts about the case along with her physical things.
Opening the front door, the sleek black dog with wolfish amber eyes bounced with happiness around her, barely allowing her to enter the living room.
“Hey, big guy. You have a good day?” she said. Her voice only made him even more excited. She dropped everything she was carrying by the front door as the eighty-pound dog circled several times around her and then bounced up and off the couch before he began to settle down. A few high-pitched whines and a look as if to say “where have you been?” followed Katie into the kitchen where she set to work preparing his meal.
“Sorry I’m so late today. We have a new case. At least, I think it’s our case,” she said, watching him gobble down his food and remembering the times she had fed him when they were on tour in Afghanistan—outside, in tents, and various other