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The First Death (Columbia River, #4)(32)

Author:Kendra Elliot

“Assuming whoever dropped him off was involved. He could have asked an innocent friend to drop him off so he could go mountain biking.”

This was why he liked working with Noelle. Her sharp brain went in different directions from his, so they complemented each other well. Noelle Marshall was in her early forties, and Evan knew the outgoing, tall, blonde woman had been divorced twice, didn’t have kids, and had a huge circle of friends. Confidence surrounded Noelle, and she always strode with purpose. People made fun of the TV show CSI, claiming detectives and forensic specialists didn’t run around in high heels.

Noelle did.

One time when Noelle was investigating a break-in, she had run down a nineteen-year-old suspect and tackled him when the idiot returned to the scene. She’d been furious that the tackle had ruined a shoe. One of the deputies who’d witnessed her sprint had told Evan his wife claimed Noelle wore $500 heels.

Evan’s good suit didn’t cost that much.

He glanced at Noelle’s feet, noting the bright-blue sandals that she wore with her slacks had a moderate heel. “Can you go with me to talk to the forensic anthropologist at the river woman scene this afternoon?”

“I’ll make time. Is Victoria doing the excavation?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I like her. Takes crap from no one.” She grinned at Evan. “And yes, I’ll change my shoes before that hike. Clothes too.”

“I will too,” said Evan. “It’s going to be a hot one today. It’s a couple miles’ hike to the site and mostly uphill.”

“Then how did the body get there?” asked Noelle. “That’s a long way to carry deadweight.”

“She was killed there,” said Evan. “Lividity matched the position we found her in.” He remembered the deep color he’d seen on the victim’s back when he’d helped Dr. Lockhart roll the body. There had been a few blanched spots that lined up with large rocks that had pressed against her back. The description had also been noted in the preliminary autopsy report.

Noelle tapped her fingers on the desk as she thought, her large rings catching the light. “Did he come across her in the woods or convince her to go on a hike with him? Or force her into the woods?”

“One of those,” said Evan.

“He’d risk meeting other hikers who’d become suspicious if it appeared she was being forced,” said Noelle. “Is he overconfident?”

“I hope so,” answered Evan. “He’ll trip up and make a mistake somewhere.”

“Preferably a mistake before another victim.”

“Assuming these three cases are related.”

Noelle’s dark-blue gaze probed him. “You think they are.”

“My gut says they are, but I don’t have any physical evidence to back it up.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky with the forensics on this one and we’ll find some links. Do you want me to focus on the women’s cases or Ken Steward?”

Evan had already decided where he wanted help. “I need you on both. It’ll take some juggling.”

“I’m a fantastic juggler. It’s part of the job.” Her eyes gleamed as she considered the challenge.

Evan approved of her reaction. Some of the detectives grew tired of dealing with the nonstop questions and setbacks that naturally came with an investigation. Not Noelle. She thrived on a puzzle. Evan did too.

She looked at the vehicle registration on Evan’s screen. “I read Steward was an Uber driver. You’ve requested records from Uber?”

“Yes. I’ve never had to do that before.”

“Same here. I suspect we’ll be doing it frequently in the future. Rideshare is a common part of our society now. Did Steward do anything else besides Uber and the SAR?”

“The SAR aspect of his life had a lot of facets,” said Evan. “He worked with several local SAR groups, and he was involved with many dog trainers across the States.”

“Shit. A lot of spread-out people.”

“My first thought too. But the dog trainers seem to be a pretty tight-knit group considering how they’re scattered. Everyone knows everyone else, and Ken had an excellent reputation with them.”

“Lots of interviews to do.”

“Maybe,” said Evan. “I’m crossing my fingers that forensics points us in a solid direction first.”

Noelle laughed. “You’re hoping for the smoking gun? We all wish to find that in every case. How often has that worked out for you?”

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