jolt of shock. He could barely believe the same initials that had been carved into Nina’s dead cat had been carved into a dead man.
What did it mean? What possible reason would Davenport have for doing this? It didn’t make sense.
Unless...
His mind scrambled for any logical explanation.
Unless Davenport had been so determined to torture Nina that he’d studied up before coming to California. He could have easily seen the news coverage on Rebecca Hyatt and learned that Nina was working with the police. If he’d also read about Cann’s murder, he could have decided to commit a copycat, believing the addition of the initials on this victim might get back to Nina. It was a long shot, but still a possibility.
Assuming that’s what had happened, had Davenport singled out this man at random? Or was this man somehow connected to Davenport’s daughter? Or to Nina herself?
Before he could even begin to answer those questions, he needed to find out this man’s identity. Take photos of his face and show them to Nina. See if she could identify him or connect him to Lester Davenport or his daughter.
Since he couldn’t touch the body before the evidence techs processed the scene, he scanned the area immediately beside the man’s body for any clues in plain sight. The dirt around him was disturbed, indicating a struggle. The man’s face was turned in profile, but he had a beard and his hair was partially obscuring his face. Despite his naked torso, he still wore boots two sizes too large, and green-and-white-checkered golf pants—
A memory tickled at the corners of Simon’s mind and realization made him jerk. Black-and-white tiles, he thought. Fifty of them. “Aw, hell,” Simon muttered as he took a closer look at the guy’s face.
“What is it? You know something about the vic, Granger? Know who he is?” DeMarco prodded. He’d been unusually quiet. His face blank. Now his voice was stiff.
Simon blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and straightened. “Yeah. Or, to be precise, I know what he is.”
“And?” DeMarco prodded. “What is he?”
Simon faced DeMarco. “Homeless. And mentally ill. I saw him at the Welcome Home shelter the first day I went there to talk to Elaina Scott. He was a resident there. Same as Louis Cann.”
“Shit,” DeMarco said.
“Right. Shit,” Simon repeated. “Between that, the similar crime scene and means of death—stabbing—the murders are connected. Except for one thing. Why the deviation with the initials?”
“Who the hell knows? And who the hell knows what BD even stands for?”
Simon just grunted. He hadn’t told DeMarco or Stevens about the initials that had been carved into Nina’s cat or his suspicion that the initials stood for Beth Davenport. Until Stevens had called, he’d had no reason to tell them. He’d promised Nina he’d look into Lester Davenport’s involvement in those two things “unofficially,” and he’d been doing so. After Stevens’s call? He’d held back, not because he’d been hiding the ball, but because he’d wanted to know what all the facts were and put together some theories first. Now he needed to get Stevens up to speed. Then he needed to talk to Nina. Once Simon had a better handle on things, he’d tell DeMarco.
Thinking about dragging Nina even more into this disturbing nightmare made him wince. She’d already been through so much and he didn’t want to scar her with this additional ugliness. Unfortunately, he had no choice. Given the initials on this man, Simon needed to find out what Nina knew, if anything, that might help them.
Once again, he wondered how it was possible the initials on this man’s back could be connected to her. She was a doctor, a psychiatrist, but he’d never asked her about her patients. And he’d never talked to her about the Cann case. There hadn’t been a need to. Was it possible that she worked with homeless patients? That she’d done pro bono work for the Welcome Home residents or at a nearby clinic, just like the family practitioner who’d introduced herself to Scott on the day Simon had been there?
A hundred questions continued to flash through Simon’s mind even as the evidence techs showed up and swept the scene. Within an hour, they were done.
“It’ll take a while before the techs get us the results of their sweep,” DeMarco said, looking beat. “What’s next?”
“Go home. We’ll wait for a hit on who this guy is. In the meantime, I’m gonna meet with Stevens. Give him an update. We’ll start