Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [73]
“If it’s not about forensics, what’s it about?” Carina asked.
“His pleasure. His fantasy. It’s all about him. On the surface, he gets what he wants—closer to the dying victim. Logically, he’s thinking the plastic wrap will prevent evidence transfer. And if he’d dumped her body on the beach, the sand would contaminate any evidence. But a parking lot isn’t the same, just like the properties of the plastic wrap and garbage bags aren’t the same.”
“So he made a mistake.”
“He’s going to realize it,” Nick said.
“You think?”
“Eventually.”
Jim Gage spoke. “He’s taking such pains to stymie the forensics investigation it makes me think that he’s in the system.”
“We’ve run like crimes,” Carina said, “and so far nothing. I have two dedicated officers on it now, so we’re digging deeper.”
Gage said, “Dr. Chen, you said there was another difference between the first and second victim.”
He nodded and motioned them to a light box against the wall, flipping the switch while dimming the overhead lights at the same time.
“The second victim has two head wounds. The first is a faint subdermal bruising. Not fatal and likely caused by a hand—see, you can see distinct fingers. It’s on the side of the head, as if he slapped her hard. The second is on the lower left quadrant of her skull. I don’t see how he could have hit her there. He would have had to swing up with something sharp enough to leave this deep gash.”
The wound was about two inches long, wider in the middle.
Gage nodded. “From the angle, I think she fell.”
“How could she fall if she was restrained?” Carina asked.
Nick spoke up. “He untied her to wash her, probably in a bathtub. He wouldn’t let her walk behind him, so she comes out first and makes a run for it. Maybe slams the bathroom door to delay him, throws something in his path. It had only been a day, she wasn’t as weak as Angie, with a burst of adrenaline she runs.”
“But he catches up with her,” Gage said, nodding. “Maybe pushes her.”
“Look here,” Chen said. “This is another faint subdermal bruise, a minor wound, in the very back of her head, which might indicate that she was pushed against a wall. No broken skin.”
“So,” Nick used Carina to demonstrate, taking her by the shoulders and gently pushing her against the wall. “Becca runs. He catches her and slams her against the wall.”
Nick stood very close to Carina and she held her breath.
“He’s angry. Furious that she tried to run. He wants her back in position so he can finish it. But he’s mad, throws her down.” Holding Carina by the arms, Nick pretended to throw her, going with the momentum to control it. “Maybe a coffee table, a cabinet, a chair—something with a sharp corner—is in the way and she hits it.” Without letting Carina hit the ground, he pulled her up. She stumbled and he caught her, gave her a wry grin. “Sorry.”
She swallowed, nodded, unable to talk. Few men made her feel small and feminine. Nick Thomas was definitely one of them.
Gage was nodding. “I can see it.”
Chen concurred. “Holds with the evidence. There is no soap residue in the wound, which suggests it occurred after the washing.”
“Anything else that’s different about this crime scene?” Carina asked, finally finding her voice.
“Look at her right hand.” Chen lifted the victim’s hand, showing deep gashes under her nails.
“What did he do to her?” Carina asked.
“Cleaned her fingernails with a knife,” Chen answered. “Then doused them in bleach.”
“Why?” she asked.
Nick answered. “Remember that she ran. She’s unrestrained and fighting back. What would you do?”
“Hit, kick, scratch—” she paused. “She scratched him. Were you able to get a sample of his skin?”
Jim shook his head. “Doubtful, though we’re taking extensive samples from her fingers. The knife turned the ends of her fingers to pulp, the bleach messes with the tests.”
“Anything else?” Nick asked.
“Becca Harrison had been a virgin.”
“Well, that certainly shoots down the theory that she had an online sex diary,” Carina said. “So where’s the connection?”