Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [3]
“Do you know when she died?” she asked Chen.
He glanced up at Carina from his position next to the body. “Lividity isn’t fixed, and it’s obvious she’s been moved. Her body temperature is 86.3 degrees. But I’m not sure how being wrapped in the garbage bags would affect the loss of heat.” He glanced at Jim.
“I’ll do some research on that,” Jim said. “I’m thinking it would slow it down, but not by much.”
Chen nodded. “That would mean she died four to twelve hours ago, but I’d put it closer to four to eight hours because rigor mortis hasn’t completely set in. There’s still some movement in her larger muscles.”
Carina made notes. Ten p.m. to two a.m. Sunday night. He killed the girl somewhere else—in a car? The woods? Someone’s house? A secluded stretch of beach? She dismissed the last idea: there were no secluded areas on this part of the coastline, and the police routinely patrolled the area because of the nearby college.
Someone kills her, puts her in their vehicle, and transports her here, to a public beach, where her body would most certainly be found sooner rather than later.
“Arrogant,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?” Jim asked.
“The killer. Arrogant. Dumped her body where we’d quickly find it. Convinced he won’t be caught, thinks he’s smart.”
“Dusting off your psych degree, Carina?” Jim teased.
She rolled her eyes and smiled. Jim knew she’d taken all of one psychology class and had never graduated from college.
She walked over to the uniformed officers and instructed them to canvas the area. “Start with the houses across the street. See if someone noticed anything unusual after ten last night up until five this morning. A suspicious car, strange noise. People on the beach. Then hit the shops up the street when they open, focusing on those open past eight p.m., clubs and bars in particular.”
As she walked back to Jim and Chen she heard a car turn into the gravel parking lot. Her partner, Will Hooper, jumped out and strode across the sand toward them.
Jim shook his head. “Asshole,” he muttered.
“Give it a rest, Jim,” she said.
“Sorry, Kincaid.” Will approached with a guilty grin. “I didn’t hear my beeper go off.”
“What’s her name?”
“Come on, you woke me at five-thirty this morning. Just because you rise before the sun doesn’t mean the rest of us like to suffer.” Forty and divorced, Hooper enjoyed playing the field. He was also a good cop, a veteran, and Carina trusted him with her life. He’d taught her how to play hardball in a male-dominated profession, and never once hit on her. Next to her brothers, he was her best friend.
“And? You live ten minutes from here. Did your precious car throw a gasket?”
“Okay, okay. Her name is Monica. And she lives up in Carlsbad, so it took me time to get back down here.”
Carina filled her partner in on what they’d learned. She looked back at the dead girl and noticed something unusual around her mouth.
“Doctor Chen, what’s that?” She knelt beside Jim and gestured toward a thin, pale yellow substance around the edges of the gag.
“Lipstick?” Will said. “Not that you would know about that.” He tugged on her braid.
Carina ignored him. In the increasing sunlight, the gag—a black bandanna—almost shimmered. “I couldn’t say.” Chen frowned.
Jim took out a swab from his kit and wiped the area around Jane Doe’s gag, but nothing appeared to come off. He popped the swab into a sterile tube and closed it. Leaning close to the dead girl’s face, he breathed deeply, frowned. Taking prongs, he attempted to remove the gag. It was then that Carina noticed the bandanna wasn’t tied. The end was wrinkled, as if it had at one point been tied in a knot, but now it flapped free.
The gag would not budge.
“Glue.”
“Glue?” Carina and Will repeated simultaneously. “He suffocated her, then glued