Stone Cold Heart

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Stone Cold Heart Page 13

by Laura Griffin


  Nolan muttered a curse.

  Rico’s parking lot was still, no traffic going in or out. The door to the bar opened again, and a couple stepped outside.

  “There.” Talia hit pause as a white SUV pulled out of the parking lot. “That’s them.”

  Nolan leaned forward. “You sure?”

  “No, but SAPD is. They zoomed in on the image, and they believe it’s Alicia in the passenger seat.”

  “Go back.”

  Talia moved the footage backward, then hit play again.

  “Can we enhance it?”

  “This is already enhanced. But they’ve examined it repeatedly, and they say it’s her.”

  Nolan leaned back, folding his arms over his chest as he watched the frozen image. A muscle in his jaw tightened.

  “They’re right, Nolan. It’s Alicia. Look at that hair. And the white shirt, no sleeves? It’s her in that vehicle. She caught a ride, and it’s the last time anyone saw her alive.”

  “Besides her killer.”

  “Right.”

  The door to the RV opened, and Sara stepped inside. She was on the phone and hardly glanced in their direction as she took over the laptop Aaron had left open on the counter.

  “I’ve got it right here,” Sara was saying. The knees of her coveralls were dirty, and her boots were coated with dust. She stripped off a pair of gloves and gave the keyboard a few taps. “Okay, ready?” She rattled off a series of numbers.

  Talia shot Nolan a puzzled look.

  “GPS coordinates,” he said.

  “I realize that, but it’s worth a try.” Sara glanced at Nolan, and something in her eyes softened. Then she turned away and propped her phone on her shoulder, freeing her hands to type.

  “They give you any crap down there?”

  Talia looked at Nolan, startled by his question. He meant the San Antonio detectives assigned to Alicia’s case.

  “They were territorial,” she said. “Didn’t stonewall me, though. Mainly, I think they want a look at what we have on our end. I told them about the missing person in Austin, and they already knew.”

  Sara walked out, and Nolan’s gaze followed her. Talia studied his expression.

  “You look pissed off, Nolan. What’s wrong?”

  “You mean besides the fact that we’ve got some sick dirtbag using our town as his personal dumping ground?”

  “Yeah.”

  Nolan shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Bull.” She watched him, determined not to talk until he shared what was on his mind.

  “Okay, I’m frustrated. This thing keeps snowballing on us.” He combed his hand through his hair. “But I’m glad SAPD gave this up. It’s the best lead we have so far, hands down.”

  “This?” Talia frowned at the monitor. “But we can’t even see the faces. We can’t be sure it’s them.”

  “It’s them.”

  “Look at this video, Nolan. The lighting’s terrible, and we don’t even have a glimpse of the perp. Or an eyewitness description.”

  “Wouldn’t help anyway. People can alter their appearance. And eyewitnesses aren’t that reliable. What we’ve got here is ten times better.”

  “How?”

  “Because.” Nolan nodded at the screen. “Now we’ve got his vehicle.”

  • • •

  The sun blazed overhead as Nolan returned to the park and made his way down the narrow road jammed with emergency vehicles. While he’d been sidetracked at the police station, word had spread among local agencies about the new crime scene. The mix of vehicles now included sheriff’s units, park district trucks, and cars belonging to Allen County Search and Rescue—although Nolan didn’t really see what value an S-and-R team could add today. Everyone seemed to want a piece of the action.

  Nolan parked his pickup on the shoulder and headed straight for the Delphi Center RV, nearly bumping into Aaron on his way out.

  “Sara in there?” Nolan asked.

  “Nope. Haven’t seen her in a while.”

  Nolan scanned the chaotic scene. All the Delphi people wore blue coveralls, but Nolan didn’t see a petite blonde in their midst giving orders. The two burial pits had been cordoned off with yellow scene tape. Brad Crowley stood off to the side, chatting with a young woman. She had long braids and wore a red ACSAR T-shirt.

  Nolan walked over and interrupted them. “Either of you seen Sara Lockhart?”

  Crowley looked around. “She was just here.”

  “She walked into the woods.” The woman pointed. “That way.”

  “Why?”

  “Dunno.” She shrugged. “Bathroom break?”

  Doubtful. Not with a luxury RV right there.

  Nolan trekked past the burial site and into the woods, following a hard-packed trail for mountain bikes. The path was hemmed in by cedar trees and mesquite bushes. Nolan heard a faint noise in the distance. He followed the sound of retching until he found Sara bent in half beside a boulder. She straightened and took a step, then swayed.

  “Whoa.” He rushed over and grabbed her arm just as she bent forward and threw up on his boot. She tried to tug her arm away, but he held it steady and pulled her hair back from her face.

  For a moment, she was stock-still. Nolan pulled a folded bandanna from his back pocket and handed it to her.

  “Sorry,” she gasped, dabbing her mouth.

  “You good?”

  She nodded and stood up. Her green eyes were watery. “Sorry,” she repeated as she wiped her chin. She glanced at his boots and closed her eyes. “God, how embarrassing.”

  “These are my crime-scene shoes. They’ve seen worse.” Nolan glanced around, looking for any sign of bones or fresh graves. “What are you doing way back here?”

  She laughed and folded his bandanna. “Who uses these anymore?”

  Nolan just watched her. Her cheeks were pink—from heat and sunburn and probably embarrassment, too.

  “Here, take a load off.” Nolan guided her to another big rock, and she leaned against it.

  “I didn’t want my team to see me puking my guts up,” she said. “Not exactly good for morale.”

  “Is it the smell?”

  She shook her head. “I’m immune to it now. I think maybe it’s the heat. But this never happens to me. We’ve even got some shade today.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s ninety-eight degrees, and you’ve been out here six hours. Those are tough working conditions. You should take a break in the air-conditioning.”

  She gave him a scowl, which let him know she was recovering. “Guatemala was tougher. And we had no AC anywhere.”

  Nolan didn’t have a comeback for that, so he just watched her. Even with watery eyes and vomit-spattered coveralls, she looked beautiful. But he sensed she wouldn’t appreciate a compliment right now.

  “How’s the excavation coming?” he asked.

  “Good.” She seemed grateful for a change of subject. “We’ve made steady progress on the two pits. Should be finished by evening.”

  “Today?”

  “Yes.”

  “What can you tell me?” He held up his hand as she started to protest. “I know nothing’s official yet, and I won’t hold you to it. Just give me a sense of what it’s looking like.”

  She took a deep breath. “Two individuals. Separate graves and different postmortem intervals.”

  “Any idea how long ago they were buried?”

  “I have to run some tests—soil pH, that sort of thing. But my guesstimate is between one and two years ago.”

  “Both victims?”

  “Yes. And so far, no obvious cause of death, such as bullet holes or blunt-force trauma to the skull,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Okay, what about clothes or jewelry, anything personal that might help with gender or ID?”

  “In one of the graves we found a small arrow-shaped pendant on a broken chain. I plan to check the database for it. No clothing in either.”

  “What, nothing?”

  “Not even f
abric remnants.”

  Nolan stared at her. Then he muttered a curse and turned away. He thought of that sick bastard out here dumping a naked woman into a shallow grave.

  “Another thing, Nolan?”

  He looked at Sara.

  “They’re young.”

  “You mean like teenagers or—”

  “Probably early twenties.”

  Nolan’s chest tightened as he watched her. She looked tired and defeated. Yes, she had been doing this a long time. And yes, she’d seen a lot. But clearly, this case was getting to her.

  It was getting to him, too.

  “What are you thinking?” Sara asked.

  “This whole discovery reinforces my case theory.” He nodded toward Sangria. “Kaylin liked to climb there. I think she was there when she witnessed something suspicious, and that’s what made her a target for this unsub. I think the backpack in the other park was a decoy, meant to throw us off. But I think whoever buried these women here likely saw Kaylin and grabbed her. Maybe he took her someplace else, but this area is the original crime scene.”

  Sara sighed. “I wish that didn’t make sense, but it does, unfortunately.” She refolded his handkerchief and tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll wash this for you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  She brushed her hair from her eyes, seeming self-conscious again. She didn’t like him finding her in a private moment, and she was also probably worried about how it looked that they’d disappeared into the woods together.

  Nolan checked his watch. “One of our officers is bringing subs for you guys. He should be here by now.”

  “Thank you. They’ll appreciate that. I’ll reimburse you.”

  “Get real.”

  She gazed up at him for a long moment. “I should get back.”

  “You should.”

  But she didn’t move. She just stood there, staring up at him. He’d been about to leave, but the look in her eyes kept him rooted in place. Going with his intuition, he wrapped his arms around her. She rested her cheek against his chest, and relief rippled through him. At that moment, she needed him, and he was more than happy to hold her as long as she wanted.

  She eased back.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, smoothing her hair. “I’m a mess today.”

  “Don’t apologize. Take all the time you need here. I’ll keep an eye on the crime scene.” He stepped back to give her some space.

  “Wait.” She put her hand on his arm. “I wanted to talk to you. About last night.”

  Damn it, he’d wondered if this was coming. She had that worry line between her brows now.

  “You’re mad I kissed you,” he said.

  “No. God. That part was good. I’m just . . .”

  He stepped closer. “What? Just say it.”

  “I go back to San Marcos today.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “I live there, you live here. So what’s the point of starting something?”

  Nolan smiled slightly. “Does everything have to have a point?”

  “Well . . . yes.”

  He shook his head.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing at all.” He gazed down at her. “Anything else?”

  She looked confused. “No.”

  “Good. See you at the crime scene.”

  He left her there looking perplexed and headed back to civilization. She probably thought she’d talked him out of pursuing this thing, whatever it was. But she hadn’t. Yeah, they lived in different places, but he liked her. More with every damn minute he spent with her, even when she was puking on his boots. There was something special about her, and he was determined to get her to give him a chance.

  That part was good.

  It was a small admission, but he’d take it.

  Talia intercepted him on the edge of the clearing beside the scene tape. She looked over his shoulder, and her expression turned suspicious.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Biggs is here with sandwiches. Is Sara back there?”

  “She’s coming.”

  “Well, what does she say?”

  “She doesn’t know all the facts yet, but she will soon.”

  “And?” Talia looked up at him expectantly.

  “And you need to brace yourself.” Nolan put his hand on her shoulder. “This case is going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Sara scrolled through the photos of personal effects. The number of images was mind-numbing, and she’d already narrowed her search as much as possible by category.

  She glanced at the small pendant in its clear plastic bag. She’d been thinking about it ever since she’d unearthed it at that first burial pit. She held the bag up to the light now and looked for any distinguishing marks, but, as before, there was nothing.

  Aaron walked into the lab and placed a cardboard cup beside her computer. “Tall skinny latte, as requested.”

  She looked up at him blankly.

  “I knew it.” He slurped the foam off his icy concoction. “You don’t remember, do you? On my way out the door, I asked if you wanted your usual, and you said, ‘Yeah, sure,’ without looking up.”

  “Sorry. I was distracted.”

  “No joke. You’ve been out of it all day.”

  Sara focused on her computer, trying not to react. She had been out of it not just today but yesterday and the day before that. Every day since she’d met Nolan, she’d been off-kilter. No, ever since she’d kissed him. Or since he’d kissed her. However it had happened, it had thrown everything off balance. How absurd that one little kiss could do this.

  She shouldn’t have let the time go. She should have had a rebound relationship by now, something to help her hit reset on her sex life. But her breakup with Patrick had been hard, and then one month had rolled into another and another. It had been two years since there had been a man in her life. And the weird thing was, she hadn’t missed it. Sure, she’d missed the physical part sometimes. But she hadn’t missed having a man around to sway her moods and steer her plans and edit her decisions. She liked her independence, and she didn’t plan to give it up, ever again.

  Anyway, this whole train of thought was pointless. She had too much work to do to get sidetracked with a romance that wasn’t going anywhere. And it wasn’t—no matter how much she liked talking with Nolan. Or kissing him. He was the lead detective on her most important case, and she needed to get their relationship back on a professional footing.

  Aaron peered over her shoulder at the images on her screen. “You still stuck on that pendant from the burial site?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nothing similar in the system?”

  “Not that I can find.” She leaned back in her chair. “But I keep wondering if it has some personal significance that might help us in some way. What does an arrow symbolize?”

  “Hmm, offhand? I don’t know. Cupids? Native Americans? Sagittarius?”

  She smiled. “I didn’t realize you were into astrology.”

  He shrugged. “My birthday’s in December. The zodiac symbol for Sagittarius is an archer.”

  “What are we talking about?” Kelsey asked as she walked in, also armed with a giant beverage, although Sara suspected hers was decaffeinated.

  “Arrow symbolism,” Sara said. “Any ideas?”

  Kelsey walked over and looked at the pendant in the baggie beside Sara’s computer.

  “I don’t know. Maybe she just picked it up at the mall or somewhere because it’s pretty. I’d buy it.” She leaned back against the counter and folded her arms. Like Sara, Kelsey wore her typical work attire of lab coat and jeans. Unlike Sara, her lab coat barely reached her knees because she was so tall.

  “This isn’t some cheap trinket, though,” Sara said. “It’s eighteen-karat gold. Which makes me think it’s probably a gift.”

  “Hmm. Could be.” Kelsey nodded at Sara�
��s computer. “Where are we on identifications? Anything in the system?”

  “Good news,” Sara said. “We got a DNA hit on remains from the second burial pit.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Sara exited out of the personal effects page and pulled up the record. “Her name is Lisa Ryan. She’s from Dallas.”

  “Holy crap,” Aaron muttered. “I’m always amazed when it works.”

  “Me too,” Kelsey said.

  Their disbelief was understandable. Of the estimated forty thousand unidentified human remains being stored in morgues, crime labs, and police departments across the country, only a small fraction had been entered into NamUs. Most understaffed and underfunded agencies didn’t have the resources to make entering records a priority, whether records of found remains or missing persons. Overworked cops, especially, were lax about entering their cases, and some didn’t even know the system existed. Sara was committed to changing that by raising awareness, one cop at a time.

  “I submitted her dental X-rays yesterday,” Sara said. “We had a hit in no time.”

  Of course, some victims didn’t have dental records. And some had never been fingerprinted, so even when investigators meant well, it wasn’t always easy to upload useful information on a missing person.

  “Age?” Kelsey asked.

  “Twenty-one. She was last seen leaving work, possibly on her way to join some friends at a bar. The police in her case have always thought it was an abduction.”

  Kelsey studied Lisa Ryan’s photo. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and a petite frame.

  “Physically, she reminds me of those two victims in Tennessee,” Kelsey commented.

  “I think so, too,” Sara said.

  “She the one with the arrow pendant?”

  “No, that was found in the other grave,” Aaron said. “Hey, I thought of another one—Diana, goddess of the hunt, from mythology. She was an archer, wasn’t she?”

  Alex Lovell walked in with a computer bag in hand. She worked in the cybercrimes unit, where the standard uniform was jeans and flip-flops.

  “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

  “We were talking about mythology,” Sara told her.

  Alex wrinkled her nose. “Ew, freshman English. My teacher was a dick. Also, he was about a thousand years old.”

 

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