She had silky blonde hair, and her skin had a faint blue tint although it appeared whoever had killed her had applied makeup: bright-blue eye shadow and reddish-orange blusher.
Then there was the lipstick. Bright red, the color of blood.
Even with the thorny bramble wrapped around her neck, Ellie could see a jagged knife wound had ripped her from ear to ear. She had to have bled a lot, but the killer had clearly cleaned it up, covering the slash mark with the vines.
She was striking, beautiful actually. But the olive dress, her plain clipped nails and simple black shoes made her look drab. It was as if she was dressed for church, yet she had been left exposed in the wilderness where she could be ravaged by animals, her body decomposing with the elements.
The murder scene appeared to be ritualistic. Although violent, it was not a crime of passion. There was only the one knife mark. If it had been personal, there most likely would have been multiple stab wounds. Whoever had murdered her was methodical, had meticulously planned out the kill. The back of Ellie’s neck prickled as she snapped another photograph. The ritualistic nature suggested that he might have killed before.
And that he would certainly kill again.
Nine
Ellie was relieved when she finally heard footsteps and voices echoing through the dense mass of red oaks and ash trees, flashlights flickering through the dark.
Cord led the team, his smoky eyes dark with wariness as he broke through the clearing. He was the best tracker in these parts, saving countless lives over the years.
His gaze locked with hers as he took in the scene. The ERT investigators paused, assessing silently, and Dr. Laney Whitefeather, the Medical Examiner, pressed a fist against her mouth as if to stifle a gasp. “Jesus, poor baby.”
The male investigator began roping off the area with crime scene tape while the female, Sydney, pulled a camera from her pack. “I’ll start photographing while you do your thing, Dr. Whitefeather,” she said.
“I didn’t see any ID on her, but like I said, I haven’t touched her,” Ellie said. “Keep an eye out in case the killer dumped her purse or ID here somewhere.”
Sydney surveyed the area. “Do you think she was killed here?”
Ellie pursed her lips in thought, then shined the flashlight across the rocks and weeds. “No. With her throat slashed, there would have been blood spatter. She was killed somewhere else, then the bastard cleaned her up, dressed her, and brought her out here.”
Laney’s face was ashen. “How did you find her?”
“I’ve been hiking since yesterday, planned to pitch a tent by the pond tonight, then noticed the flowers in the wind. When I crossed the creek, there she was.” She gestured toward the ground. “So far, there are no definitive footprints, although the rain could have washed them away.”
Laney donned gloves and boot covers, then picked her way across the damp grass.
“How long do you think she’s been here?” Cord asked.
“Hard to say with the cooler temperatures last night and this morning.”
Laney used a flashlight to examine the woman’s neck. “Initially, it appears she died of exsanguination; blood loss caused from having her throat slit. Although that’s not official. We’ll have to wait until I do the autopsy to determine exact cause of death, time of death, and whether or not she was drugged or sustained other injuries before she died.” She gestured toward the clothing and makeup. “What do you make of this?”
Ellie shrugged. “The garish makeup has to mean something. Maybe he wanted to downplay her beauty because she’d wronged him somehow.”
Laney shivered.
As disturbing as it was to dig into the mind of a killer, knowing what made him tick was essential to uncovering his identity and motive, to predict his next step. “His MO reads like a repeat killer.”
Laney examined the woman’s hands and wrists, and then her eyes, which were still open. “No petechial hemorrhaging.” With gloved fingers she inched the woman’s face left and right, noting slight bruising on her jaws. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and pull a partial print or some DNA on her throat or clothing.” She lifted one pale hand to examine it. “It looks like he cut her fingernails. Probably to eliminate evidence. But I’ll try.”
The sound of the workers combing the area echoed around them while Laney continued her initial exam, careful not to smear the blood-red lipstick as she used her fingers to open the woman’s mouth. A gasp escaped her before she looked