credential card for a few moments, his eyebrows hiking at certain intervals. “Okay, just don’t go anywhere.”
He walked over to the old woman and sat down next to her. Pine watched as he conversed with her, giving her some Kleenex when she started to sniffle and holding her hand and patting her shoulder supportively at other times.
That was a good technique, thought Pine. It was reassuring and designed to set the person at ease, with, Pine hoped, a clearer account from the woman about what had happened.
Wallis finally rose, walked back over to the deputies, and ordered one of them to drive the woman home. They had already collected the dropped items from her bag.
The younger deputy departed with her while the other stood guard at the scene.
“Was she any help?” asked Pine.
Wallis flipped through his notebook. “Not really. She saw the body and panicked, dropped her bag. But she didn’t see or hear anything. She doesn’t know the victim, either.”
“A town this small people pretty much know everybody. So she might not be from here.”
“The crime scene techs will be here any minute. She may have ID on her.”
“Doubtful.”
“Why do you say that?”
“No bag or purse. She’s been laid out in a posed position. Thought went into this. I don’t think the killer would have left ID behind. But if he or she did, it was because they wanted us to know the vic’s identity.” She looked at her watch. “It’s been forty minutes since I arrived at the scene, the old woman was here maybe a couple minutes before that.”
“So whoever put her there is long gone.”
“It was dark when I arrived here. And this is the far end of the main street. You have some trees just behind.”
“You don’t think he carried her here in his arms?”
“Transport in a car is much more likely. The shops here are all closed. That’s not the case on the other end of the street. And there’s better illumination that way too.”
“Which shows familiarity with the area,” said Wallis.
“It’ll be interesting to see the time of death.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think she was killed here. When I arrived, I looked around the whole area, listened for sounds, the works. Nothing. I think she was killed off-site and then the murderer placed the body here for someone to find.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“I have.”
“And you’re here just visiting?”
“More or less.”
He thought for a moment. “Look, you want to work with me on this?”
“Can I?”
“GBI has a lot of good people and expertise, but this is rural Georgia and assets are stretched. I’m not too proud to ask for expert help when it so conveniently presents itself.”
Pine looked at the screen. “All right. But there’s one thing you need to know.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see it for yourself, but the killer put a wedding veil on the woman.”
“A wedding veil?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know she didn’t put it on her herself?”
“She’s in her late twenties wearing expensive jeans, a cashmere sweater, and a suede jacket with low-rise croc-skin boots. No way she’s walking around in that outfit with a veil. And it looks to be vintage, a lot older than she is.”
Wallis scratched his stubbly cheek. “So that veil must have some meaning for the killer? Something symbolic?”
“This scene was meticulously laid out. So everything has meaning. It’s almost like a little ceremony put together by the killer. Everything just so.”
“Okay, so what’s your preliminary observation?”
“I’m pretty sure of one thing.”
“What?”
“I don’t think this will be the last time we see his work.”
Chapter 11
PINE AND WALLIS stared down at the body.
The forensic processing team and a member of the Sumter County Sheriff’s Investigative Division had shown up in a single black van. A minute later a small, thin man dressed in a dark suit arrived. He was the coroner, called in to officially pronounce a death they all knew had already occurred.
As they began their tasks, Blum showed up after getting a text from Pine and being cleared through the secure perimeter.
Pine introduced Blum to Wallis.
“Sorry to interrupt your visit here,” said Wallis, eyeing Blum. “I’ve taken advantage of your boss being here and roped her into helping.”
“I doubt much effort was required for that,” replied Blum. She looked down at the body. “A wedding veil,” she said, glancing at Pine, who nodded.
“Yes.”
“Symbolic?”
“I believe so.”
Blum took a closer look. “It’s old. My mother’s generation. You can tell by the design and the style. World War II–ish.”
Wallis gave her an appraising look. “You got a good eye.”