All the Pretty Girls - J. T. Ellison [107]
“Bob,” she whispered in his ear, making him jump. He turned and gave her an uncharacteristically grim nod.
“Good, you’re here,” he said. “I thought you’d want to see this.” He gestured toward the house, a stately two-story with white harled brick.
“What’s happening? Dispatch said you had a home invasion with a possible rape?”
“Yup—911 got a call from a kid inside the house. Kid heard noises from downstairs and came down. Saw his mom wrestling with a man in a mask. Guy had slipped in through the back French doors, grabbed the woman as she slept on the couch. Kid’s a smart little cuss, he ran right back to his room, locked the door and called 911. Patrol got here within a few minutes, but the guy had already done his thing and left.”
“Did he rape her?”
“Yep. She’s very shaken, but she did manage to tell us that he had a knife to her throat. It was all pretty fast.”
“And you think it was the Rainman?”
“Well, it is raining. Plus the MO sounded right. I know you’ve been dealing with the case, thought you should be here at the scene.”
“The kid all right?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Shook up, but he may have saved his mom’s life, you know?”
“Thanks for the heads-up. I don’t know how much I can do, but I’m glad you called. Lincoln and Marcus should be here soon. We’ll talk to the vic, see if she remembers anything that could help. We’ll have to get her to the hospital so they can do a PERK and check her out. Do you have guys searching around here?”
“We do, got the dogs, too. Vic said he took off out the back door when he was finished, right as the sirens were within hearing distance. There’re heavy woods out there that back into the farm. That abuts to the parking lot of Christ Presbyterian.”
Taylor stared off toward the north. “Did you get patrols in their parking lot? He may have parked there, then come in on foot.”
“Yep. We’re on that. We don’t have anything yet. Like I said, just thought you’d want to know what was happening.”
Taylor touched his arm. “I appreciate it, Bob. You did good to call me. Go on and do what you need to, I’ll just wait for Lincoln and Marcus and get into the house in a minute.”
With a nod, Parks went off toward the house. Taylor took in the scene. There was a large crowd of people assembled, watching the drama unfold. Women in bathrobes and men in sweatpants stood in knots, necks craning to see whatever they could. Taylor was reminded of an evening when she was in her teens and a neighbor’s house caught fire. It seemed the whole neighborhood had gathered in the street to watch the conflagration envelop the home. People were drawn to tragedy like moths to a flame.
Years of training unconsciously kicked in, and she looked at each face in turn. No one seemed out of place. Tired countenances, lit with anguish, but all looking appropriately rumpled from being wakened in the middle of the night by sirens. She shook her head and turned toward the noise of another engine making its way down the road toward them.
Lincoln Ross pulled up in his assigned vehicle. They weren’t supposed to bring personal cars to a crime scene, and he had grabbed an unmarked and made his way to the west side of town. Marcus was riding shotgun. What good boys, she thought. As she started toward them, a shadow caught her eye. She looked to the right, could have sworn she saw someone moving along the side of the house. Lincoln got out of the car and she silently got his attention, motioning with her head toward the house next door. She started that way slowly, not wanting to look as if she was chasing anything in the gloom, but intent on finding out what had caught her eye.
Lincoln and Marcus joined her and they formed a flying V, walking slowly and carefully toward the darkened edge of the house. Lincoln whispered in her ear.
“What’d you