Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,53
on the second blues riff. It was Jaylon.
“I haven’t had my coffee yet,” he muttered sitting up.
“Make it to go,” his partner said. “You got your wish.”
His heart thudded and his gut clenched as he stood. “Another body.”
“Yep. Female this time.”
“Female?”
“Outdoors this time, too. A railroad underpass on University Rd, just south of the Scranton Flats. I have the forensics people taking pictures for now. Thought you’d want to see this as untouched as possible.” His partner paused. “How long will it take you?”
“Twenty minutes,” Aaron answered with a quick look at the clock on the wall. He hung up then pulled on his jeans.
“He’s changed gender?” Brianna stood there in her pajamas, her hair slightly mussed.
“Seems so,” he said, reaching for his sweater.
“That’s odd for a serial killer isn’t it?” she asked.
“Usually they’re prey is a certain type, but not always.” He paused. “Mind if I shower here? I’ll be quick.”
“Sure. Towels are in the closet.” She moved to the kitchen. “I’ll start the coffee. Peanut butter toast okay?”
He nodded. “Perfect.”
When he came out of the bathroom, she not only had them coffee and breakfast, but had gotten dressed.
“I know I’m not official,” she said, quickly, “and you can’t take me on a crime scene again without causing trouble, but my car is at the safehouse and would waste your time taking me there before you get to the crime scene. And it sounded like Jaylon wanted you there as quick as possible. My choices are wait until who knows when you’ll get back, call Kirk F in about three hours to come get me, which would drive me absolutely nuts not knowing if Jaylon is right and this is our killer’s second murder or go with you and stay out of the way. So I’m thinking the third option really is the only logical one.”
“Wow. That was some speech,” he said, coming over to get one of travel mugs she’d filled with coffee and add some cream to it. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I was just going to ask if I needed to take Stanley out before we left.”
They arrived in the area known as the Scranton Flats—an area of land just west of the Cuyahoga River, that had gone under major reclamation in the late nineteen-nineties and early two-thousands. It had native foliage, restored natural riverbanks to harbor freshwater fish and Towpath park for hiking and biking —just a few minutes longer than Aaron had promised his partner.
Aaron turned from Scranton Road onto University Road then drove half a block down, stopping where the police cruisers, unmarked police cars and the crime scene van blocked the area from any street traffic. Not that this little section of town got much traffic, cars or people, from what Brianna could tell.
Just like where they’d found Art’s body the night before. Isolated. Plenty of time for the murderer to pose his victim.
“You can come, too,” Aaron said, taking a last swig from the travel mug.
She studied him a moment. “You sure? I don’t want you getting in trouble having a civilian on the scene or anything like that.”
He shrugged. “My case. My crime scene. If I say you’re okay to come, you’re okay to come.”
They climbed out of their respective sides of the car, Stanley snuggly in Brianna’s arms, and Aaron pressed the old-fashioned door lock button. The undercover car was too old for fancy electronic locks. Then he led them through the police tape barrier, holding it up for her before ducking down under it himself.
“Just remember to stay back and not get in the techs’ way, okay?” He said, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back.
“Got it,” she said, looking at all the people in white, disposable hazmat-style jumpsuits milling about. Up ahead, just before a railroad overpass stood Jaylon talking to Investigator Ramos she’d met the night before.
“Doesn’t look like anyone unofficial is here yet or I’d have you take a film of the crowd,” he said as they neared the spot where the body was.
The early morning sun was just breaking through the dawn and peeking around the buildings to shed light on the area. Brianna could see the victim’s feet jutting out into the roadway, but nothing much else through the maze of people in the shadows of the overpass. Jaylon broke free from the group and headed their way.
“Hello again, Ms. Matthews and Stanley,” he said, offering the pup the last bite of some