Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle. BEVERLY BARTON
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it show?” he replied.
She grinned at him. “Only around the edges.”
He grunted. “Our ten-year-old kept us up all night with a stomach virus. When I left this morning, she was finally resting and had been able to keep down some 7-Up and crackers.”
“How many children do you have?” Bernie asked.
“Three girls. Eight, ten, and thirteen.” Charlie chuckled as he got up and offered Bernie his chair by pointing to her and then to the chair. “Lucky for them, they all look more like their mother than they do me.”
“I guess your wife will be glad for you to wind things up here and come home to stay.” Bernie accepted the offered seat.
“I think I miss her and the girls more than they miss me.”
“I doubt that.” Bernie smiled. “Take it from somebody who was a daddy’s girl, at the ages your daughters are, there’s no other man in their lives as important as their father.”
Hensley brought in a folding chair, opened it and sat; then he reared back and placed his hands on his thighs. The guy swaggered when he walked, his every action proclaiming his cocky attitude, and there he was sitting back like he owned the world. Jim studied his deputy, but when the guy’s gaze met his, Jim focused on Bernie. She looked today as she looked every day. Neat and orderly. Brown slacks, white blouse, minimum of makeup, simple gold jewelry, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.
As if sensing that he was staring at her, she turned and looked right at him. Their gazes connected and held. He smiled. She smiled. Jim figured they had the makings of a firm friendship. The more he got to know Bernie, the better he liked her.
Charlie tapped his fingers on the file folder lying on Jim’s desk. “I brought the preliminary report on Stephanie Preston. As we all know, her death was caused when the carotid arteries were severed when her attacker slit her throat, pretty much from ear to ear. Her throat was cut from left to right in a manner indicating the killer was behind her, probably on top of her, and that he jerked her neck backward and brought the knife down and across. There were no signs of defensive wounds, so it’s unlikely she tried to fight him. The knife had a smooth blade, which means no distinctive marks from the blade on the neck. And the knife was very sharp. The murderer probably made sure it was sharp because his intent was to end her life quickly and relatively painlessly.”
“I thought we had decided he had tortured her, so why would he care if her death was quick and painless?” Hensley asked.
“Good question.” Charlie glanced at Jim.
“He’d gotten whatever it was he had wanted from her, from raping her and torturing her,” Jim said. “When it came time to end things, he was through with her. All he wanted was to get rid of her quickly. I’d say he thought of the way he killed her as a reward to her for having given him what he’d needed from her.”
“What sort of sick mind would look at it that way, would believe that she’d given him anything?” Bernie frowned. “She didn’t give. He just took everything from her, even her life.”
“Our boy is not only one sick puppy, but he’s smart,” Charlie said. “He trimmed her fingernails and toenails and cleaned out from under the nails, leaving no trace evidence. And he washed her hair and her body before he dropped her off in the middle of nowhere.”
“Then he’s no run-of-the-mill nut case.” Bernie draped her right arm across her waist, then propped her left elbow atop her right fist and rested her chin atop her tilted left hand.
“You’re right—he is a nut case and definitely not run of the mill,” Charlie agreed. “Whoever he is, he likes rough sex, he likes to make his victim suffer and he’s smart enough to remove any evidence on the body.”
“What about any evidence from where her body was found?” Hensley asked.
Charlie shook his head. “Nada, at least so far.”
“And that’s about what we’ve got,” Jim said. “Nada. We’ve ruled out our three most likely suspects—the husband and two former lovers.”
“Yeah, their alibis checked out,” Hensley said. “So that leaves us back at square one.”
“If only someone had seen something the night Stephanie was kidnapped.” Bernie rubbed her thumb across her lips. “The last anyone saw of her, she had just exited the building and was heading toward her car. So what happened between the building and her car? There is no evidence she made it to her car, but then again there’s no evidence to indicate she didn’t.”
“Y’all didn’t find anything that belonged to her in the parking lot, did you? Not a notebook or scattered papers or her handbag or—”
“Nothing,” Bernie said. “And her purse and books weren’t inside her car either, which we figured meant she’d taken them with her.”
“Unless the guy who abducted her gathered up all her belongings after he nabbed her.” Jim tapped his fingers against the desktop as he mulled things over in his mind. “If she took the items with her, then I have one question. Why, if she was being abducted, would she have hung on to her purse and other items instead of trying to fight this guy off?”
“She didn’t fight him, did she?” Bernie tightened her left hand into a fist and huffed under her breath as she figured out Jim’s theory. “Damn it, she knew him. And for some reason, she went with him willingly.” Bernie looked straight at Jim. “Am I right? Is that what you’re thinking?”
Jim nodded. “Where is her car?”
“We had our wrecker pick it up and bring it in,” Hensley said. “We went over it with a fine-tooth comb and found nothing unusual, so we turned it over to Taylor’s Wrecker Service. Last I heard, no one in the family has come to pick it up yet.”
“Did y’all have a mechanic check the car?” Jim asked.
Hensley looked questioningly at Jim. “Why would we have had a mechanic check it? The car had nothing to do with Stephanie’s disappearance.”
“Call over to Taylor’s Wrecker Service,” Jim said. “Have them see if the car will start, and if not, why not?”
“Oh shit,” Bernie cursed under her breath.
“What is it, Sheriff?” Charlie asked, a hint of a smile curving the corners of his mouth.
“You know damn well what it is.” She glared from Charlie to Jim. “Why would a woman not drive her own car? Why would she accept a ride from someone else? Because her car wouldn’t start.”
“Yep.” Charlie’s smile widened.
“Our guy deliberately put Stephanie’s car out of commission, then he waited around to play Good Samaritan when her car wouldn’t start.” Bernie gritted her teeth and groaned. “Ooh … She knew him. Whoever he is, Stephanie knew him and trusted him enough to accept a ride with him.”
“That narrows down our field of suspects to probably at least a fourth of all the men in Adams and Jackson counties,” Hensley said.
“Maybe so, but it also means our guy is probably still around, that he either lives in Adams County or in one of the neighboring counties, that he’s probably a native.” Jim tapped his fingers against the desktop again. “And if he enjoyed what he did to Stephanie, it’s probably only a matter of time before he chooses a second victim.”
“I agree,” Charlie told him. “But that’s assuming Stephanie Preston was his first victim.”
“Are we back to the serial killer theory?” Hensley asked.
“Yeah,” Jim said. “So Lieutenant, I’d like for you to put in a call to the sheriff’s departments of all the neighboring counties within a hundred-mile radius and find out if there’s been another murder similar to