Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,99

shook his head. “This time he stays here.”

The place swarmed with cops, camera crews and gawkers when they arrived.

“Great,” Aaron muttered, parking behind the line of police vehicles along the drive to the stadium. The patrol unit had also closed off West Third Street to help control the gathering crowd and preserve the crime scene as much as possible. He sat still for a moment contemplating how best to get Brianna safely past the horde of news people.

Another cruiser pulled up beside them and out stepped two uniformed officers—one male one female—he’d worked with on another case. And because the senior officer was a stickler for rules and insisted all her partners follow protocols even down to their uniforms, they wore the standard issue jackets and police hats. Which gave him an idea.

He rolled down his window. “Sergeant Wilson,” he called.

The fortyish brunette stopped midstride to see who had called her name. Turning on her heel, she marched over to his car. “Detective Jeffers.”

“I was wondering if you had an extra coat or hat in your cruiser? I need to take my associate into the crime scene, but I don’t want her looking conspicuous,” he said nodding towards Brianna, who leaned forward and nodded at the older woman.

Wilson’s eyes lit up. She’d been on the extra uniformed security detail at the courthouse during the trial and quickly recognized Brianna. “I bet you don’t,” she said with a lift to one brow. “I think I have an extra coat, and you can borrow my hat.”

A few minutes later, Brianna was dressed partially as a policewoman, and in the fading light, her jeans would be mistaken for uniform pants by anyone not looking too closely.

“Keep your eyes forward and walk on the side of me furthest from the camera crews, okay,” he instructed her.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, and he could see her trying not to grin at him.

The ruse worked. They cleared the crowd, media and other officers in a direct route to where their killer had posed the former football player lying almost draped across the steps leading up to one of the stadium entrances. Once again, facing east. He’d been dressed in a uniform from his college days and in his arms, he held a football.

“Just like we thought. Kyle Dandridge,” Jaylon said as they neared. He stood a few feet from the body while Ramos and her crime scene team worked the area.

“Scrubbed clean?” Aaron asked, already knowing the answer.

“Head to toe. Just like the others.”

“And the blood?” Brianna asked.

“Ramos said it was exsanguination like the last two times. Definitely our guy.”

Special Agent Carson Smith wandered over from the crime scene. “A little different this time.”

“Oh? How?” Aaron asked.

“Investigator Ramos said the ligature marks on the wrists and ankles were thicker this time. Probably old-fashioned leather ones, instead of cloth he used before. And two sets of puncture marks. One mid-chest, as well as another set on the back of his neck. Both equivalent with a taser.”

Jaylon wrote that down on his pad. “Probably had to tase him twice to subdue him because he’s only twenty-six and still pretty muscular.”

“He wasn’t out on the street long, then?” Brianna asked and all three men exchanged looks. “What?”

“Dandridge was one of the top draft picks in his class. He signed a very lucrative contract with the Bears, but he got hooked on steroids in college and after two years in the pros, he was washed up halfway through his third. That was what?” He looked at his partner for clarification.

“Two years ago,” Jaylon said, shaking his head slowly. “It was like he was top of the heap one minute and POOF, gone the next. Wondered what happened to him. Must’ve blown through that sign-on money in a hurry.”

“Still, two years with his kind of money, he’d still been using, so his muscle mass hadn’t had time to reduce.

“So, instead of an easy target, your killer picked one that required more effort to take him down. And thicker restraints to keep him still for the blood draining process,” Carson said, shoving his hands into his front jeans pockets and drawing them all back into the current situation. “He chose this target for the sensationalism his discovery would bring.”

Aaron nodded, clenching his jaw muscles a moment before replying. “We knew he’d want attention as this thing went forward. His first two murders didn’t get him the desired effect.”

“First two that we know about,” Carson said.

“You really believe there were more?” Jaylon asked. “We