Once Lost. Блейк Пирс

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ on this land all his life, and so had his parents and grandparents and great-grandparents, and he’d hoped to pass the farm down to his own children and grandchildren.

      He’d never imagined something like this could possibly happen here.

      She also realized something else – that Tully had been standing in exactly this same spot for hours, staring with horrified disbelief at the poor girl’s body. He’d found the body in the early morning, reported it, and then hadn’t been able to make himself move from this spot. Now that the body was being taken away, maybe he’d leave soon.

      But Riley knew that the horror wouldn’t leave him.

      His words echoed through her head …

      “Times have changed.”

      He must have felt as though the world had gone mad.

      And maybe it has, Riley thought.

      “We’re terribly sorry this happened,” Riley told him.

      Then she and Jenn headed back toward the excavated spot.

      Teague’s team now had the covered body up on a gurney. They were awkwardly moving it over the tilled soil toward the medical examiner’s vehicle.

      Teague approached Riley and Jenn. He spoke in that seemingly perpetual monotone of his.

      “In answer to your question, how’d she die … I got a better look, and she’d been bludgeoned, hit more than once. So that’s it.”

      Without another word he turned and walked away to join his team.

      Jenn let out a scoff of annoyance.

      “Well, it sounds like the examination is done as far as he’s concerned,” she said. “He’s a real sweetheart.”

      Riley shook her head in dismayed agreement.

      Then she walked toward Chief Sinard and asked, “Was anything else found with the body? A handbag? Cell phone?”

      “No,” Sinard said. “Whoever did it must have kept those.”

      “Agent Roston and I need to meet with the girl’s family as soon as possible.”

      Chief Sinard frowned a little.

      “That’s going to be pretty rough,” he said. “Her dad, Drew, was just out here a little while ago to identify the body. He was in pretty bad shape when he left.”

      “I understand,” Riley said. “But it’s really necessary.”

      Chief Sinard nodded, took a key out of his pocket, and pointed to a nearby car.

      “I figure you two are going to need your own transportation,” he said. “You can use my car as long as you’re here. I’ll drive on ahead in a police vehicle and show you where the Philbins live.”

      Riley let Jenn take the keys and drive. Soon they were following Sinard’s police car toward the town of Angier.

      Riley asked her new partner, “What are your thoughts at this point?”

      Jenn drove in silence for a moment as she seemed to mull the question over.

      Then she said, “We know that the victim was seventeen years old – within the age range of about half of the victims of this kind of crime. It’s still an unusual case. Most victims of serial sexual predators are prostitutes. This one may fall into the ten percent who are victims of acquaintances of one kind or another.”

      Jenn paused again.

      Then she added, “More than half of these kinds of murders are by strangulation. But blunt force trauma is the second most frequent cause of death. So in that sense this murder may not be atypical. Still, we’ve got a lot to learn. The most important question is whether we’re dealing with a serial killer.”

      Riley nodded grimly in agreement. Jenn wasn’t saying anything she didn’t already know, but whatever her misgivings might be about her new partner, at least she was well informed. And they were both facing the possibility of a terrible answer to that last question, both hoping the answer was “no.”

      In a matter of minutes they were following Sinard into Angier and driving down Main Street. Riley saw nothing to distinguish it from other Main Streets she’d seen throughout the Midwest – bland and characterless rows of shops, some of them old and some of them new. She detected no hint of charm or quaintness. Riley had much the same feeling about the town as she’d had during the drive across the rolling prairie – a sense of something dark lurking behind the veneer of Midwestern wholesomeness.

      She almost gave voice to her thoughts. But she quickly reminded herself that it wasn’t Bill who was at her side, but a young woman she barely knew and still didn’t know if she could trust.

      Would Jenn Roston share Riley’s feelings, or even want to hear them?

      Riley had no way of knowing, and it bothered her.

      It was hard not having a partner she could talk to freely, expressing ideas as they came whether they made sense or not. She missed Bill more with every passing minute – and Lucy as well.

      The victim’s family lived in an older but well-kept brick bungalow on a quiet street with large trees in the yard. The curb and the driveway were crowded with parked vehicles. Riley guessed the Philbins had a lot of visitors at the moment.

      Sinard stopped his marked patrol car in the street and got out. He gestured Jenn toward a small parking space and stood giving directions to help her squeeze the car into place. Once the car was parked, Riley and Jenn got out and walked toward the house. Chief Sinard was already on his way to the front door, his patrol car still double-parked in the street.

      Riley wondered – were they going to meet an innocent grieving family and many sincere and well-meaning friends and loved ones?

      Or were they about to encounter people who might be capable of murder?

      Either way, Riley always dreaded this kind of visit.

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      For several long moments, Riley couldn’t put her finger on what struck her as odd about the house where Katy Philbin had lived. As soon as she and Jenn walked in through the front door she had felt a tinge of unease.

      As Riley had expected, the living room was crowded with people – well-wishing friends and neighbors, most of them women. In typical small-town style, the community was pulling together to help a family in a time of crisis.

      So why did the scene strike her as somehow strange?

      Then Riley realized – everything seemed uncannily organized and proper. All the people appeared to be wearing their Sunday best. They had brought food and had arranged it on the dining room table, and everybody was either tending to assigned tasks or eating and talking in hushed voices.

      It reminded Riley of many funeral receptions she’d been to, the kind of event that might take place after a burial. It hardly seemed possible that Katy Philbin’s desecrated body had been found just this morning. How had this orderly gathering come together so spontaneously and quickly?

      It’s that kind СКАЧАТЬ