The Fifth to Die: A gripping, page-turner of a crime thriller. J.D. Barker

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СКАЧАТЬ get the seat belt around him, and close the door. Then he came up and got something around the man’s neck, something thin like a piano wire, judging by the way it cut into his throat.” As Porter spoke, he climbed into the back of the car and acted everything out, moving in slow motion.

      He looked at the back of the driver’s seat. “We’ve got a shoe print here in the leather. Looks like he tried to wipe it away and missed part. He must have put a foot against the back of the seat for leverage.”

      “CSI said it’s a size eleven work boot. They don’t know the make,” Nash said.

      “It takes a lot of strength to kill a man like that. He’d be thrashing about, fighting back, trying to work his hand under the cord. Reynolds’s movement would be highly restricted — the steering wheel would see to that. He might have tried to get the door open, but most likely both hands went to his neck. The power position is in the backseat. Reynolds wouldn’t have been able to get the cord off, even if he were the stronger man. The leverage and angles all work against him,” Porter said.

      Porter climbed out of the backseat and opened the front door. “The blood spatter on the windshield and dashboard fits.”

      The steering wheel and door were covered in black fingerprint powder. “Our unsub kills him, climbs out, reaches into the front, takes Reynolds by the shoulders, and drags him out, drags him all the way to the back.” Again, Porter mimics the movement, his back hunched, hauling an invisible body through the snow until he reached the remains of the snowman. Reynolds’s body was completely visible now, all the snow and ice removed. Porter looked at the props on the ground, the stovepipe hat, the black gloves, and the broom. “He must have used the broom to sweep away what he could of his tracks. Last night’s snow did the rest.”

      “We think he walked off into the woods,” one of the CSI officers said. It was the same woman Porter and Nash had met at the Jackson Park Lagoon crime scene.

      Porter nodded in agreement. “That’s how I would have left. You’re Lindsy, right?”

      “Yes, sir,” Rolfes replied. She pointed at the ground leading into the trees. “The snow isn’t as thick under the trees, but he brushed it anyway. Looks like he used a branch or something, something not as effective as the broom. We’ve got a faint trail. It comes out one block over on Hyicen Street. He probably parked his own vehicle there.”

      “Any tire tracks?”

      Rolfes shook her head. “Nothing to identify the unsub’s vehicle. Two uniforms are going door to door to see if anyone saw a car parked there last night.”

      Porter’s phone rang. He glanced down at the display. “It’s the captain.”

      “You gonna answer?”

      “Nope.”

      Nash frowned. “Balls. You know what that means.”

      Porter’s phone went silent. A moment later Nash’s phone rang.

      “Double balls.”

      “Tell him we’re still at the scene. We’ll come in as soon as we wrap up here,” Porter said.

      Nash sighed and answered the call.

      Behind them, a woman screamed.

      Porter turned to find Mrs. Reynolds standing at her back door. “Christ, I told them to keep her and the boy in the living room. She shouldn’t see this,” he said.

      Nash shrugged his shoulders and walked away from the house, his phone pressed to his ear.

       17

       Clair

       Day 2 • 10:26 a.m.

      Clair fell back in the squeaky-wheeled office chair and picked at the cracked green leather on the armrest. She reached for her coffee cup and brought it to her —

      Empty.

      Dammit.

      “Do you want another refill?” she asked Sophie.

      Sophie glanced up from the sheet of notebook paper in her hands. “I’m good. We’ve got two more left. Let’s wrap this up so we can get out of here.”

      After they spoke to Gabby Deegan, the security guard had escorted them to the second-floor administration office and introduced them to Noreen Outen at the front desk. She’d looked up at them with a forced smile from behind glasses thick enough to leave the top of her nose red with their weight. Clair felt a headache coming on just watching her eyes strain.

      After identifying themselves, they’d sent her off on two tasks — round up the students on the rather extensive list Gabby provided them (sixteen names in all), then check the attendance records for the twelfth — they were looking for anyone who didn’t make it to class that day, any class, on the off chance a student picked up Lili and left with her.

      While the woman plugged away at her homework assignment, Clair and Sophie had begun interviewing the students lining up in the hallway outside the office. Now they were fourteen down, two to go. So far, none of the students remembered seeing Lili that morning, either walking to school or in the building.

      “Who’s next?”

      Sophie glanced down at Gabby’s notes. “Malcolm Leffingwell and Leo Gunia. Want to flip for it?”

      Clair tilted her head back in the chair. “Leo!”

      Sophie giggled. “Jeez, Clair. Do you have to shout every name?”

      “I love the way kids jump when they hear their name shouted out from the admin office. Every bad thing they’ve done since wetting their first diaper runs through their head. See? Look how white that kid’s face is.”

      Sophie glanced up at the boy coming through the door. “You’re a damn sadist, woman.”

      “Just keeping them on their toes.”

      Leo Gunia wore the same white shirt, navy pants, and blue striped tie as all the other boys they had spoken to. His black hair was neatly cropped, and he had the slightest amount of stubble growing under his chin.

      Clair suppressed a smile. Why is it all teenage boys think they can grow some form of facial hair? She had yet to meet one who actually could. Instead, they had these bitty shadows and patches of peach fuzz. She was tempted to send each one on his way with a razor and a bottle of testosterone. “Please take a seat, Leo.”

      Sophie explained who they were and why they were there.

      Leo held their gaze, nodding as she spoke. “The whole school is talking about it.”

      “Really? What are they saying?” Sophie asked him.

      The boy shrugged. “Only that somebody might have taken her on her way to school the other day. That 4MK guy.”

      “It СКАЧАТЬ