The First Death (Columbia River, #4)(21)

“No. Nothing,” she said. “Besides . . . she’s been here for a while.”

Evan nodded. Even at this distance he could tell decomposition had started to take a toll. “The medical examiner shouldn’t be far behind me. She can give an estimate of how long she thinks she’s been dead.”

“I really have nothing to report except that we found her,” said Rowan. “But I’d like to stick around for a while.”

“No problem.” Evan put the pad and pen back in his pocket.

Voices sounded, and a group of the sheriff’s department’s teenage explorers headed their way. At a scene like this, Evan needed a dozen sets of eyes combing the surrounding area for evidence. One of the deputies who had been talking to the forensic tech immediately strode toward the new group. “I’ll get them organized, Detective,” he told Evan.

“Appreciate it.” Evan didn’t want them staring at the corpse.

“The ME’s with them,” added the deputy.

Evan spotted Dr. Natasha Lockhart bringing up the rear of the group.

“It’s Dr. Lockhart. Good,” said Rowan. “She knows her shit.”

Evan agreed. Dr. Lockhart was his favorite of the medical examiners who covered his territory. The ME was petite with long, dark hair. She looked like a college student, not a pathologist.

The explorers swarmed around the deputy, and Dr. Lockhart approached Evan and Rowan.

“Hey, Thor.” The doctor addressed the dog first. Thor stood and pushed his nose into her outstretched hand, his tail a blur with its rapid wagging. “How’s my favorite boy?” She squatted next to the dog and gave him a hug, making Thor squirm with joy.

Evan met Rowan’s gaze. She smiled, apparently used to people greeting her dog before her. Evan realized he sometimes did the same with other dogs and owners.

“Hello also to you two,” said Dr. Lockhart, standing back up. “Beautiful day. I appreciate working outdoors on days like these.”

Her words sounded a bit callous considering a dead woman was nearby, but Evan completely understood. When you worked with death every day, you acknowledged the good things wherever you found them.

Dr. Lockhart looked toward the crime scene. “Looks like Jenna will be taking photos for a bit longer.” She met Rowan’s gaze. “I understand you found her?”

“Yes.”

The doctor paused. When Rowan didn’t expand, she locked eyes with Evan. “Have you taken a look?”

“Not yet. I just got here too.”

“Let’s go.” Dr. Lockhart headed toward the crime scene tape.

Evan checked the explorers. The deputy had them in a line and moving into the woods a step at a time, an arm’s length apart on either side, gazes scanning the ground. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he told Rowan, and he followed the doctor. They both stopped to sign the scene log.

The dead woman lay on her back on the rocks. Her discolored abdomen was severely swollen with gases from decomposition. The current of the river made her lower legs seem to undulate, appearing gelatinous. Small animals had been at her eyes, mouth, and fingers. She had long, dark-blonde hair, and Evan couldn’t guess her age; her body had swollen too much. There was some sort of flower tattooed on one ankle, and her toenail polish was hot pink.

She’s younger. I can feel it.

She was looking more and more similar to his other two victims. Dr. Lockhart held a small flashlight next to the woman’s neck, examining the mottling. Evan couldn’t distinguish strangulation bruises from the rest of the discolorations, but the doctor was nodding.

“Strangled?” Evan asked.

“It’s a possibility.” The doctor did a quick visual scan of the woman’s body and then palpated the skull, checking for depressions or injuries. “All clear so far. Help me roll her over.” Evan stepped into a few inches of water, trusting his boots to keep his feet dry. He rolled the woman on her side, and the doctor scanned her back with the flashlight. Her skin was dark purple. “Looks like this is the location where she died. You must be wondering if it’s related to the other two strangled young women,” Dr. Lockhart said quietly.

“That’s my job,” answered Evan.

“You haven’t found a concrete link between the other two?”

“No. Just that the situations and victims were similar. No physical evidence.”

“I remember one was from Portland . . . where was the other from?”

“Idaho,” said Evan.

“Both far from home,” said the doctor.

“Bend is a vacation destination,” said Evan.

“But neither young woman was on vacation.”

“True.” The first young woman had been living on the Portland streets in a homeless camp. No one had noticed when she vanished. The other had been living with her boyfriend when they got in a fight and she stormed off. He hadn’t been surprised not to hear from her for several days.

“Something or someone brought them here,” Dr. Lockhart said quietly.

Evan was silent. He didn’t like to speculate on how the women had arrived in Central Oregon; there were dozens of possibilities, and nothing indicated they’d arrived under the same circumstances. One woman had been found six weeks ago and the other four weeks ago.

The doctor hummed to herself as she continued her rapid examination.