The Silent Wife (Will Trent #10) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,110

He was having trouble separating what Sara had told him about Tommi Humphrey and what he assumed had happened to Leslie Truong.

The similarities to Beckey Caterino were there, too.

Based on the position of Truong’s body, you could make the assumption that she had stumbled in the woods, landed on her back, slipped into unconsciousness, then eventually died. Her clothing looked undisturbed. She was wearing a Grant Tech sweatshirt with the collar cut out. Jeffrey could see the straps of her white sports bra underneath. Her white yoga pants were pulled up to her hips. They were Lululemon, the same as the brand that Sara wore. Truong’s sneakers were blue Nikes. She wore ankle socks.

That was where the similarities ended.

Blood had flowed like a river between Leslie Truong’s legs.

Her white pants had been soaked through. The volume was such that even the rain could not wash it all away. Leaves and twigs had been blackened by the surge. She was not lying on a slope. The blood had poured as her heart frantically pumped out its last beats.

Still, Jeffrey needed verification. “Is this the murder scene?”

Sara asked, “Are we assuming the window for the attack was roughly half an hour to forty-five minutes?”

Brock asked, “I’m sorry, Sara, but for my notes, can you tell me where you got that time frame?”

Jeffrey answered the question. “Leslie Truong left the scene of Caterino’s attack around six yesterday morning. The rainstorm hit about half an hour later.”

“Ah,” Brock said. “The rain washed away the shoeprints.”

Jeffrey asked Sara, “What do you think happened?”

“I need to see a weather report to pin down the exact time the rain started, but taking a rough guess, I can imagine two different scenarios.” Sara explained, “In the first scenario, Leslie was walking back to campus. She was abducted and taken somewhere close, but private, like the back of a vehicle. She was raped and murdered. Then, the assailant brought her back here, probably in a fireman’s carry over his shoulder, before the rain started.”

Jeffrey figured that was possible, but not likely. “Second scenario?”

“The attack and murder happened here, and because of the storm, we’re not seeing signs of a struggle.” She made sure to include Brock. “Can you think of anything else?”

“No, but I’d say the second one sounds more like what happened.” Brock said, “In an abduction situation, you’d think the suspect would get messy. If he carried her, I mean.”

Sara said, “He would be covered in blood.”

“He’s gotta be a big fella to tote that gal so far,” Brock said. “I could barely carry that tent and the canvas weighs thirty, maybe forty pounds.”

Sara sat back for a moment. Jeffrey could see that the smell was making her eyes glisten. She was breathing through her mouth.

Brock said, “It’s risky to abduct her and bring her back. And I guess it’s risky to attack her in the first place. We’re off the beaten path, but there’s still a path.”

Jeffrey didn’t have to be told this killer was a risk-taker. What little they knew about him pointed to a man who relished hiding in plain sight.

He turned to Frank, who had been hanging back because of the smell. “I need a topographical map of this entire area. I want to see where that fire road is in relation to the scene. Whether or not he took Truong back to his vehicle or killed her here, he had to park somewhere.”

Frank started to leave, but Jeffrey said, “Get some more uniformed officers out here. I want a grid search back to the fire road. No matter where she was attacked, he got here from somewhere. Let’s expand our perimeter and make sure those spectators we saw aren’t trampling on evidence. Remind the searchers to lift their heads up occasionally. Not everything is on the ground.”

“Got it.” Frank had his radio to his mouth as he walked away.

Sara was looking at Brock. “I can handle the filming if you want to do the visual exam?”

“No. You’re the doctor. You should do the important parts.” Brock opened the crime scene kit. He reached for the ancient Sony Camcorder, but the clunky device slipped from his hands. “Sorry. This is just so terrible.”

“It is,” Sara agreed. “But we can take care of her together. All right?”

“Yes, you’re right.” Brock checked there was a VHS tape in the Camcorder. He took off the lens cap. He dropped it into his pocket.

Jeffrey found his notebook and pen. They were all feeling unnerved. There was something