Deadly Relations (7 page)

“
Did you know that jerk conservation officer? Is he new? I’ve never seen him before.” Jennifer asked.

“
He’s my son.” Dick said the words so quietly, they were barely audible.

“
What did you say?” Jennifer was incredulous.

“
The conservation officer. He’s my son.”

“
Son? You’ve been my partner for how many years, and you’re just now mentioning you have a son?!”

“
It’s not something I’m proud of,” Dick began. “His name is Damon. He’s twenty-seven-years old. I hadn’t seen him since the day I left him and his mother, over twenty years ago. Then last week, he shows up out of nowhere and sits down at my table at the Sugar Creek Cafe.”

“
What did he say?”

“
He just said he wanted me to know who he was and that he’d moved here from Ohio. He has a lot of anger toward me, and I don’t blame him. I was a terrible excuse for a father.”

“
I’m sorry, Dick.”

“
I wish I could turn back the clock and do things differently. I was so young. Back then, all I knew was I couldn’t get away from his mother fast enough.”

“
Where is your ex-wife now?”

“
Damon said she still lives in Ohio in the same house. He says I should go visit her.” Dick paused for a second. “That will never happen. The woman is toxic. I was a bastard for leaving my kid to fend for himself.”

“
What did he say about the crime scene?”

“
Damon said the Scout leader called the ranger station with her cell phone right after they found the body. He was the conservation officer on duty so he took the call. Damon said he was so shocked to find the body the way it was, that he wasn’t thinking. He knew better than to leave the body uncovered like that in the rain, but he just wasn’t thinking.”

Jennifer frowned but said nothing. She didn’t believe Damon’s story and was surprised that Dick did. She knew for a fact that all area conservation officers got training on how to preserve a crime scene during their first week on the job. Jennifer knew because Karen Katz taught the class.

<><><>

He sat in his Jeep and watched as the bitch detective with the big mouth and her sorry excuse for a partner drove out of the parking lot.

Detective Jennifer Brennan had a lot to say about the way he didn’t secure the crime scene. Her anger reminded him of his mama and the way she’d screamed at him when she thought he’d done something wrong. Of course, with Mama, everything he did was wrong.

That bitch detective had better hope she was never in the wrong place at the wrong time, because he’d snatch her up in a second. She’d find out how stupid he was at the receiving end of his belt.

Jennifer Brennan thought she was so fucking smart. Little did she know she was no match for him. She didn’t have a chance in hell of ever catching him. He wished he could see her face when she discovered he’d left no evidence she could use to track him.

What was amusing was dear old Dick’s lecture to him about preserving a crime scene. Neither he nor his bitch partner had an inkling of how brilliant he was to wait for the rain before he killed Catherine and dumped her body. Bye, bye trace evidence.

On Monday morning, Jennifer raced to Michael Brandt’s prosecutor office near the courthouse for a meeting he called to discuss Doc Meade’s autopsy findings. Even though she and Blake had attended the autopsy, Michael wanted them to attend the briefing to provide insights, and to answer questions about the case. Jennifer knew her dad would be attending, along with Lane Hansen.

She flew up the marble stairs to the second floor. Jennifer was one of those people who was always early, no matter what the occasion, but she’d stopped by her office, lost track of time, and was now running late.

<><><>

Michael, Lane, Blake, Doc Meade and her dad were already seated around the table when she reached the conference room, so she slipped in and took a seat next to Blake as quietly as she could. Her dad glanced at her with a concerned expression. Her parents worried too much, and she felt guilty about it. The last thing she wanted was to cause her parents concern. Ever since her abduction five years before, they’d taken overprotectiveness to an all new level. But since Catherine’s abduction, she had more of an understanding of a parent’s fear of something bad happening to his or her child.

As if sensing how much she needed it, Blake picked up the pot near him and poured hot coffee into Jennifer’s mug and handed it to her. She whispered her thanks and took her first sip. He must have showered just before the meeting because his hair was still damp. She breathed in his masculine scent of fresh soap and the outdoors. A sudden visual of the two of them bathing each other in her shower shot to the forefront of her brain, and she felt her face heat, along with other parts of her body. Of all the inappropriate times for an erotic vision of Blake, this topped the list — especially since among those seated at the conference table was her dad. She shook her head as if to remove the image.

Jennifer looked around the long, cherry wood conference table and wondered why her partner Dick hadn’t arrived. She’d never known him to miss a meeting. Jennifer had tried to call him earlier, but he hadn’t answered, so she left a message on his voice mail.

<><><>

Michael cleared his throat and aimed his first question at the coroner. “Doc, what were your findings with Catherine Thomas’s autopsy?”

Doc Meade drained his cup of any remaining coffee and began. “The cause of death was strangulation with a ligature, breaking the hyoid bone. Judging from the inch-and-a-half width of the groove in the victim’s neck, I think the ligature was a belt. In fact, there is bruising that suggests the shape of a metal belt buckle on the back of her neck, as you can see.” He pulled a photo out of a thick file folder and passed it around the room.

“
If you’ll bear with me, I’d like to do a demonstration. Lane, your belt looks to be the right width. May I borrow it?”

Lane unbuckled and pulled off his belt and handed it to him.

“
Jennifer, since our victim was female, would you please volunteer to help me.” After she nodded, he directed her to lie face down on the conference table as the rest of the group stood around the table. He placed Lane’s belt around Jennifer’s neck and pulled it through the buckle until it was snug.

“
Judging from the buckle marks on back of the victim’s neck, I believe she was lying face-down either on the floor or on top of a table or bed. The killer approached her from behind to strangle her with the belt. You’ll notice that as I stand next to her, the belt is pulled at an angle, which would have caused a different marking on the victim’s neck.” Doc Meade climbed on the table. “That is why I believe he straddled her, like this, from behind as he pulled the belt tighter and tighter until the victim died.

He helped Jennifer get off the table, handed the belt back to Lane, then continued. “Thankfully, death would have come quickly after the onset of unconsciousness which is only ten to fifteen seconds.”

Blake leaned forward and asked, “What about the injuries to her buttocks, thighs and back?”

“
It’s likely the killer used the same belt he used to kill the victim to cause the severe bruising, abrasions and lacerations to her buttocks, back and thighs.” He passed around another photo. “See the linear marks connected with a curved end? These are indicative of the belt being folded in half, with the looped end being used to strike the victim. Since the wounds are in varying stages of healing, she suffered many beatings.”

“
Oh, my God,” exclaimed Jennifer as she shuddered. “I don’t even want to imagine the pain she endured during those beatings.”

“
The pain of the beatings with the belt was significant enough to cause the victim to bite her lip so deeply, it was practically severed.”

Tim shook his head angrily. “I’ve been in law enforcement for thirty years and I’ve never seen such brutality. We need to find this sick bastard and lock him up where he belongs.”

Lane nodded his head in agreement then asked the doc, “Did you find anything that suggests Catherine was tied down?”

“
Yes. There is bruising on her wrists and ankles from being restrained. In addition, we found residue from tape on her wrists and ankles. I sent a sample of the residue to the lab. My guess is that the tape used was duct tape — and he used it to restrain her for the seven days she was missing.”

He got up to fill his cup with more coffee then returned to the table. “I’m convinced she was also restrained during her murder because there are no fingernail marks on her neck to suggest she struggled to remove the ligature or belt.”

“
Was she raped?” asked Michael.

“
Yes, there was vaginal tearing that suggests the victim was raped. There was no biological evidence; therefore, it is likely the killer wore a condom.” The coroner tiredly rubbed his hands over his face. “There’s a good possibility that the killer was raping her at the same moment he was strangling her with the belt.”

“
So this killing could be sexually motivated?” asked Jennifer.

“
That is your job to discover.”

Lane squirmed in his chair, agitation evident on his face. “Tell me you found some trace evidence or something that will help us find this freak.”

“
The body was found nude and had been washed with what looked like regular bath soap. There was residue in her hair. We’re sending a sample to the lab. The body was also washed down with bleach. Each of her nails were cut and scrubbed with bleach. I’m sorry, there’s not much to go on.”

“
Time of death?” asked Michael.

“
Anytime between 9:00 p.m. last night and 1:00 a.m. this morning.”

Blake’s face reddened with anger. “Whoever did this was playing with us when he left Catherine’s car in the Deer Run State Park parking lot. That’s why it wasn’t seen before. It wasn’t there. We searched that park three fucking times. Someone would have seen it.”

“
I agree,” said Jennifer. “He left her car there after he completely wiped it down. There were no fingerprints, not even Catherine’s. Which makes me wonder if he might be in law enforcement? Look at how hard he worked to eliminate the trace evidence.”

“
Maybe, Jennifer,” said Tim. “But keep in mind, since TV programs like CSI have gained popularity, there are a lot of amateur forensics experts out there. Criminals are using these programs and the Internet to learn how to hide their crimes.”

“
I agree,” said Lane. “Remember how Charles Beatty, the serial killer who tried to kill Anne, washed down every victim with bleach. He was a computer technician. We can’t rule out the killer might be a cop, but I don’t think it’s wise to turn our entire focus in that direction.”

“
Any suspects?” asked Michael.

“
We’re looking at Catherine’s boyfriend, Nicholas Connor. He has no alibi for the day she went missing. He also hasn’t participated in any of the searches for her. We’re talking with Catherine’s friends today to find out more about their relationship,” Blake offered.

In the parking lot outside Michael’s office building, Blake stopped Jennifer. “So where’s Dick? Wasn’t he supposed to be at the autopsy and this meeting?”

“
Yes. I tried calling him, but got no answer. I left a voicemail.”

“
Well, since you’re without a partner today, how about helping me interview some of Catherine’s friends?”

“
Sure.”

“
Hungry? I thought we’d have lunch at the Sugar Creek Cafe and talk to the owner and some of the waitresses Catherine worked with.”

Jennifer grabbed her laptop out of her car and joined Blake in his SUV. “I was thinking. We’ve done a criminal background on Nicholas but didn’t find anything. He’s been teaching at the elementary for about a year. Wonder why he left his last school? Most teachers stay for years at the same school to get tenure. Let’s find out what his fellow teachers have to say about him.”

“
Good idea. The more information on him, the better.”

At the cafe, Jennifer ordered a breaded tenderloin sandwich with fries and a sweet tea. She studied the young waitress who took Blake’s order. With brown hair tied in a perky ponytail, she looked like she was the same age as Catherine, and just as friendly with a contagious smile. She introduced herself as Brianna Hayden, and promised to take a break and talk to them, as soon as she put their order in.

Jennifer noticed several people staring at the large flat-screen television on the far wall. They were watching her dad’s press conference to announce Catherine’s murder. A couple of waitresses tearfully hugged each other after hearing the news. The cafe owner, John Isaac, shook his head as if in disbelief.

Brianna returned a short time later with their drinks. Jennifer motioned for her to sit on the chair next to her. Visibly shaken, Brianna sank into her chair.

“
I can’t believe she’s dead,” Brianna said, as tears slowly found their way down her cheeks.

Jennifer lightly touched the waitress’s hand to comfort her. “Brianna, we need to ask you some questions about Catherine. Were you two friends?”

“
Yes, we became friends about a year ago when she started working here. We hung out after work sometimes.”