The Silent Wife (Will Trent #10) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,107
lawyers, and the mayor. Jeffrey didn’t care what they were talking about. He wasn’t worried about his job anymore. He was worried about catching the animal who had hurt these women. The town was his responsibility. So far, he had failed three victims, one who didn’t trust the police to take care of her, one who had almost died while they stood around shooting the shit, and another who had been left to make the half-hour trek back to campus on her own and never made it.
The death of Leslie Truong rested solely on his shoulders.
Frank said, “Brad says she’s dressed in the same clothes she was wearing yesterday morning at the Caterino crime scene. Yoga stuff, it looks like. Body’s real cold and stiff. She was probably there all night.”
Jeffrey felt ill. He looked at Sara. She said nothing, but for once, he knew exactly what she was thinking.
He told Frank, “I had fifteen people out with me searching those woods. How did we miss her?”
Frank shook his head, not because he didn’t know the answer, but because the answer was obvious. The forest was sprawling. There hadn’t been a moon last night. You could only see what you could see.
Jeffrey tried again. “Felix Abbott. He goes by the name Little Bit. Do you know him?”
“No, but Abbott’s a Memminger name.” Frank shook a cigarette out of his pack. “All of ’em are Dew-Lolly pieces of shit.”
Dew-Lolly was the seedy intersection of two hopeless streets in Memminger County. The area was two counties over, so the occupants were not Jeffrey’s problem. He had often heard the Memminger sheriff refer to some of the county’s more idiotic offenders as a real Dew-Lolly.
Jeffrey said, “Caterino had a number stored in her phone for someone named Daryl. That name ever come up in connection to Felix Abbott?”
“Daryl?”
“No last name. Just Daryl.”
“Not ringing a bell, but you know my bell is from the Liberty Line.” Frank asked, “Why’re you asking? You looking at either of them?”
“I’m looking at the entire town.” Jeffrey watched Sara gather the tent stakes and rope. Her jaw was tensed as they set off toward the crime scene. She had seen first-hand the damage to Tommi Humphrey. Of the four of them, only Sara really understood what they might find deep in the woods.
Brock shifted the heavy canvas tent onto his shoulder. “Sara, please thank your mother for coming by last night. It was sweet of her to sit with Mama. Her asthma’s been acting up something fierce. I’m afraid she’ll end up in the hospital again.”
Sara rubbed his arm again. “You can call me night or day if she needs help. You know I don’t mind.”
“Thank you, Sara. That means the world to me.” Brock looked away. He used his sleeve to wipe his eyes.
Frank said, “Truong was found by a student, Jessa Copeland. Matt’s taking her statement back at the station.”
“Tell him to stay with her until her family or a friend can take over.”
“He knows.” Frank lit his cigarette. He was the only one of them who wasn’t carrying anything. Considering his poor health and the three-hundred-yard hike, that probably wasn’t a bad idea. “Copeland, the one what found her, was running in the woods. She got turned around, strayed off the path. That’s when she saw Truong. She recognized her immediately from the message boards. I came out with Matt and Brad. Brad’s still with her.”
“What does she look like?”
“Same as Caterino. On her back. Clothes in place. She’s got a mark here.” Frank tapped his fingers on the side of his temple. “Bright red, circular, like the size of a quarter.”
Sara looked back at Jeffrey.
Like the head of a hammer.
Frank said, “It was pretty obvious she was gone, but I felt for a pulse. Matt felt for one. Brad tried, too, then he put his ear to her chest to make sure.”
Jeffrey got to the bad. “What else?”
“Blood.” He indicated the lower part of his body. “Everywhere.”
Sara asked, “Was she lying on an incline, her pelvis lower than her chest?”
“Nope.”
“Only two things make blood flow: gravity and a pumping heart. She must’ve been alive for a while.”
Sara looped her free arm through his. Brock was her age, but he was one of those men who had always presented himself as older. She talked to him in a low, soothing voice. Brock seemed relieved to have the comfort.
Frank told Jeffrey, “I might hang up my hat alongside Brock’s