Forensic anthropologist Dr. Victoria Peres had been assigned to remove the bones. Evan had wanted to speak with her at the site but knew from previous cases that it was best to wait until she’d organized the excavation and made a little progress. The doctor ran a tight ship during her investigations. If she wanted you off her dig, you were gone. No questions, no excuses.
Evan had watched her kick a burly deputy off a scene after she spotted him taking pictures. She hadn’t gone to the deputy’s sergeant to request the deputy leave; she’d walked right up to the picture taker and ordered him off with language that had made Evan blush. The rest of the crew had immediately gone silent. And made certain their phones were tucked away. Dr. Peres was intimidating. Tall, direct, and intense.
And one of the best in her field.
Evan checked his email and found a preliminary autopsy report on Ken Steward, noting that Dr. Lockhart had sent it after one in the morning. Apparently the medical examiner didn’t need sleep either. The immediate blood labs showed a low blood alcohol and the presence of marijuana. The doctor had requested more labs, which Evan knew would take several more days, possibly weeks. He felt guilty about missing Ken’s autopsy, but he’d been called to the river woman crime scene. Dr. Lockhart verified that there had been two gunshots to the head and one to the heart. No other wounds.
Death had been nearly instant.
The one consolation.
Ken Steward probably hadn’t known what had happened. Evan imagined the man had fallen asleep a little drunk and a little high. It was doubtful he’d heard anyone enter the tent.
“Morning, Evan.” Detective Noelle Marshall strolled into his office. “I knew you’d be here bright and early, so I figured I should be too.”
Last night Noelle had been assigned to help Evan with the Steward murder and the three female homicides. She’d cleared a big robbery case just as Evan’s boss had decided Evan needed more hands and eyes. Evan suspected the publicity of Ken Steward’s death had prompted Noelle’s assignment. There had been a big outcry for results from the local community.
But there hadn’t been much talk about the murdered women. Often the public seemed to simply accept that it happened: young women got killed. But the murder of a beloved, generous longtime community member got press. Evan didn’t like the unfairness of it, but it didn’t affect how he worked. Every case got his full attention.
Maybe the women will get more press with the news of a third death.
“I’m glad it’s you,” Evan said to Noelle with a grin. “If Hickson had been assigned, I’d have to wear earplugs.” The young detective never stopped talking.
“I promise not to talk about my cats’ litter box habits while you’re eating,” said Noelle. “Or give an in-depth rundown of every volleyball game I played in college.”
Detective Hickson had a three-month-old and would enthusiastically describe every exploding diaper and projectile vomit, ruining his colleagues’ lunches. Before the baby was born, he’d enjoyed reliving his college football games play by play with anyone unlucky enough to be nearby.
“He means well,” said Evan. “Just doesn’t know when to stop.”
“He’s a good guy,” agreed Noelle. “Has a lot of potential.” She pulled a chair closer to Evan’s desk, where she could see his computer. “I spent last evening reviewing what you have on the Ken Steward case so far. I really hope those bullets they dug out of the dirt give us a good lead. Anything new on him today?”
Evan gave her a recap of the Steward autopsy. “I just got his cell phone report from his carrier. Can you take care of that?”
“Absolutely. What else?”
“Waiting on forensic results from his computer. I still need to interview his first two wives, his cousin, and a couple of close friends. Maybe his stepkids.” He frowned.
“What is it?” asked Noelle.
“I keep coming back to his SUV.” He pulled up the registration for Ken’s Explorer. “Where’s his SUV? Someone took it. Are we looking at two suspects? It seems logical that someone drove the killer to the location. It was too remote to get to on foot.”
Noelle nodded, a furrow forming between her eyebrows. “What if the killer had ridden in on a bike? It could have been put in the back or on top of the Explorer.”
“Good point. I think there are mountain bike trails not too far from there. It would still be a long ride to get there from any town, though. Even if he was dropped off near the trails, we’re still looking at more than one suspect.”