Dead, Without a Stone to Tell It

by Jen J. Danna

  Leigh tried not to look discouraged. “Can you look at that first then, please?”

  “Absolutely. Now, are you ready to review that footage?”

  “Yes.” She started to turn away, but then glanced back at him, concern in her eyes. “Are you okay? You look really tired.” Matt drew back at the slight and she rushed to cover any insult. “It’s not that obvious. I mean, I can see it but—”

  “It’s okay.” Matt cut in before Leigh could dig herself in even deeper. “I just had a rough night. This case …”

  She gave him a small, twisted smile. She reached out to run her palm over his shoulder, smoothing out the twist in his shirt, but he suspected she was also trying to soothe him. “I know exactly how you feel. I’ve had murder cases that have left me sleepless too. You know it doesn’t help the situation, it only makes it worse, but you can’t turn it off.”

  “Hopefully tonight will be better because it’s wearing me down. Come on. We’ll grab Juka to help you.”

  As one, they turned toward the grad students, only to stop dead when they found the three young people standing across the room, staring at them, various expressions of intrigue, alarm, and surprise on their faces.

  “Busted,” Paul murmured.

  “Don’t you guys have anything to do?” Matt snapped.

  “No, no … we’ve got lots to do,” Paul said lightly with a grin, clearly unperturbed by Matt’s icy gaze.

  “Then go do it,” Matt said flatly. “Juka, you come and set up here with Leigh. Paul, you can help me with the examination unless Leigh needs you.” He turned to Leigh. “You can set up at my desk over here.” He indicated the desk in one corner of the room, its surface cluttered with numerous piles of papers and journals, and a skull perched atop a stand on one corner.

  The students watched Matt and Leigh cross the room. Kiko glanced sideways at the men. “Did you just see what I just saw?”

  “Oh yeah,” Paul said, grinning. “The temperature in this room jumped about ten degrees during that argument. And did you see Matt? He actually looked flustered, like we’d caught him in the act. This is going to be very interesting to watch. I’ll bet they don’t really even realize it themselves yet.”

  Kiko nodded. “Maybe not, but if those fireworks are any indication, it’s going to be damned hot when it happens. Two years with Matt and I’ve never even seen him give a woman even a passing glance, let alone that kind of intensity.” She gave Juka a push toward Matt’s desk. “Enough about Matt’s sex life. Let’s get to work.”

  The group broke apart, each heading to their own task.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: HUMAN DISTURBANCE

  Human Disturbance: the disruption of an ecosystem by human activity.

  Saturday, 11:52 A.M.

  Boston University, School of Medicine

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Leigh set up on Matt’s desk, while Juka settled at his own writing station a few feet away. She’d brought several DVDs of security camera footage, so she and Juka each selected a disc and started to scan the footage. On one DVD, Tracy’s car was not visible at the beginning of the footage. On the next, her car was visible but it was impossible to say if she had already been taken since the car was still there days later.

  There was very little noise as everyone got down to work, with only quiet murmurs between Matt, Paul, and Kiko as they examined remains and cataloged kerf marks.

  An hour and a half later, Leigh shifted stiffly in Matt’s desk chair and rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the kink in her neck before leaning back over the desk and propping her chin on her hand. Carefully scanning the footage to ensure nothing was missed was time consuming. Finally seeing Tracy pull into her parking spot had given her a jolt of adrenaline. But after watching Tracy get out of her car, the footage continued with no sign of her return. Cars came and went. People entered and exited the mall. But no sign of Tracy.

  Leigh realized that her knee was bouncing restlessly, and forced herself to stop. Settle down. You knew this was going to take time. You can’t afford to miss anything.

  Pausing the footage, she glanced up briefly to see how the rest of the team was faring. Kiko was seated at a workstation, meticulously fitting and gluing fragments back into place to reconstruct one of the skulls. Matt and Paul were bent over one of the older sets of remains, discussing some aspect of the examination, the low murmur of Matt’s voice interspersed with Paul’s slightly higher tone. As if sensing her eyes on him, Matt glanced up, their gazes locking over the span of the lab before Paul pulled his attention back to examine a section of bone.

  Leigh considered the frozen scene on her laptop screen, but then abruptly surged to her feet. She just needed a quick break—a drink of water, a walk down the hallway, some air. Anything to soothe her suddenly jittery nerves.

  Without a word, she slipped from the lab, silently making her way down the deserted corridor. Some of the other labs had lights on, but the offices were all dark. It’s Saturday. Not everyone works seven days a week—

  “Leigh? Everything okay?”

  She turned to find Matt standing in the hallway, pulling the door of the lab closed behind him. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. “Yes. I’m just … restless. I just wanted a quick break.”

  He started down the corridor toward her. “That’s understandable. You’ve been sitting for a while and probably need to stretch your legs.”

  “It hasn’t been that long.” Her shoulders slumped. “Maybe the pressure’s starting to get to me.”

  “We’ve been running for almost a week straight and no one’s had a break,” Matt said. “It’s wearing us all down.” He took her arm, pulling her down the corridor.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The lounge. I’ll make some coffee. Nothing fancy but it’s faster than running out for one and I think you could use the pick-me-up.”

  “It’s got to be better than what I’m used to. Cop coffee is like liquid tar. But are you sure you have time for this? I’m taking you away from the lab.”

  “Paul and Kiko will be fine without me for five minutes.” He steered her into a small room at the end of the corridor.

  One side of the lounge comprised a simple seating area with several couches and chairs gathered under a large window, bathed in the afternoon sunlight. A small kitchen with a sink, fridge, and microwave filled the other side of the room.

  Matt indicated the seating area. “Have a seat. I’ll put on a pot. The students will want some too.”

  Leigh flopped into one of the overstuffed armchairs, tipping her head back and closing her eyes, trying to let the tension seep from her tight muscles. She could hear Matt moving around the small room and, eventually, the gurgling of the coffee maker. A minute later, the couch creaked as he sat beside her.

  “You’re tired.” It wasn’t a question.

  Leigh opened her eyes, peering at him sideways through her lashes. “You could say that. It’s been an interesting few days.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know … everything that’s going on with the case and the ID.”

  “And that jackass at the department who’s been giving you a hard time?”

  She laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. “Oh yeah, him too. And …”

  When she hesitated, Matt leaned forward. “And … ? What else?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “I’m learning that when it’s ‘nothing’ with you, it’s always something. What else happened?” When she remained silent too long, Matt pressed again. “Maybe there’s something I can do to help.”

  “Do you know a good window guy?” At his baffled look, she explained. “Two nights ago, after work, I was in my kitchen making dinner when someone hurled a rock through the window.”

  “What?” Alarm spiked into his tone. “Were you hurt?”

  “I was fine, except for being seriously pissed off. It made a huge mess and I’ve still got a piece of board nailed over the broken gl
ass because I haven’t had time to call anyone yet.”

  “Did you report it?”

  She fixed him with a deadpan expression. “I didn’t need to report it. I’m a cop. If I’d called Salem P.D., they’d have wanted a description of the perp, but I didn’t get a look at one. Besides, it’s probably just some kid showing off for his buddies.” She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “The stupid thing is it’s making me jumpy. Yesterday I was driving to Endicott College and I thought I picked up a tail.”

  “What do you mean you ‘thought’ you picked up a tail?” Matt’s voice was pure suspicion.

  “It was just a feeling I had. Some guy on a bike in full black leathers following too closely. It set off alarm bells for me, but I probably just overreacted after the rock escapade the night before.” She dropped her face into her hands. “I’m just tired. It’s making me see things that aren’t there and I’m second-guessing my own instincts.”

  She felt Matt gently pull her hands away from her face. She opened her eyes to find him leaning in close. “You’re running non-stop and under a huge amount of pressure,” he said. “And you’re exhausted because you’re not sleeping well.”

  “And you are?” Leigh countered, a defensive edge creeping into her tone.

  “Not as well as I’d like, especially considering how exhausted I am when I fall into bed. But that’s not the point. All I’m saying is give yourself a break. No one is pushing you harder than you, yourself.” The coffee maker beeped three times. “Coffee’s ready. How do you take it?”

  “Sweet and light.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  He was halfway across the room when Kiko dashed in the door. “There you are!”

  Leigh sat bolt upright in her chair, instantly on alert. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Kiko grinned. “Juka’s got it. He found Tracy.”

  The coffee was forgotten in an instant as all three raced down the hallway and back into the lab.

  “What have you got?” Leigh crossed over to Juka, bracing her hand on the desk beside his laptop as she peered over his shoulder. The picture on the screen was frozen, and Leigh’s eyes instantly found Tracy’s car, a sporty little hatchback. It occupied a parking space two rows above the bottom of the screen, the frozen figure of a woman beside it, her arms loaded with bags. There was only one other car in the picture, an older model four-door sedan, parked one row farther away from the camera. The timestamp read 9:08 P.M.

  “Roll it back, please, Juka. Back to when she appears.”

  Juka placed his cursor over the time bar and dragged it back a minute before starting the footage rolling forward again. Leigh met Matt’s gaze over the top of Juka’s head. The hope she felt lit his eyes as well. This is it; our first real clue as to the identity of the killer.

  “Right here.” Juka’s words broke into the silence and they turned back to the screen. Paul and Kiko crowded in behind Juka’s chair.

  The black and white footage showed a nearly empty parking lot.

  “That’s no coincidence,” Leigh said. “He waited until the end of the night to grab her. The parking lot is almost empty, so there are no witnesses.” Her body tensed as the recognizable face of the victim entered the picture. Tracy’s arms were laden with shopping bags and she walked with a quick step. Moving quickly to her car, she unlocked her doors. Opening the passenger side, she laid the packages and her purse on the front seat. She closed the door and hurried around the hood of the car toward the driver’s door.

  Leigh found herself chanting keep going, keep going, in her head, even though she knew how the scene would play out.

  Tracy reached the front of her car when she suddenly stopped and turned around.

  “She nearly made it,” Matt said softly, “but someone called for her attention.”

  A person climbed out of the only other car on screen. The details were grainy, but the tall, slender man wore a jacket with the collar turned up and a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. His hands were deep in his pockets. He and Tracy talked briefly and then Tracy circled her car to open the hatchback, the man meeting her at the back of the car. She rummaged in the back of the car and then pulled out a tangled jumble of cables.

  Leigh leaned in, squinting at the screen. “Jumper cables?”

  “Yeah,” Matt agreed. “He probably faked having a dead battery and asked for help. Then when he had her closer he likely—” He cut off abruptly just as Leigh’s sharply indrawn breath sounded beside him.

  A second man entered the picture, wearing a flat cap pulled low. He silently slipped behind Tracy as she turned to the man in the baseball cap, both hands full with the tangle of cables.

  “Goddamn it, there’s two of them,” Matt breathed.

  They watched in helpless horror as Tracy gave a sudden jerk, whirling to face the second man, the jumper cables tumbling from her hands. He quickly grasped her upper arms as the first man put a hand over her mouth. She struggled, but her efforts were short-lived as she quickly weakened and sagged to the ground. The first man caught her, supporting her weight as the second man picked up the cables, tossing them carelessly in the car before closing the hatch.

  Leigh’s hand came down firmly on Juka’s shoulder. “Stop!” She turned to Matt. “What just happened there? We couldn’t see clearly, but could he have had a cloth in his hand with some kind of inhaled anesthetic? Something to knock her out?”

  “I doubt it. Most inhaled anesthetics have longer induction times and they reverse as soon as the patient breathes oxygen again. It’s more likely an injected anesthetic, but his body blocked our view of what his hands were doing.” Matt’s tone was harsh with barely banked anger. “Whatever it was, it was fast-acting. It only took ten or fifteen seconds and she was starting to lose consciousness.”

  “Start it again, Juka, please,” Leigh requested.

  The video continued. Both men glanced around before the man in the flat cap moved to take part of her weight and together they walked her to the car at the edge of the picture. They opened one of the back doors and proceeded to lay her on the back seat. Then the man in the baseball cap got into the driver’s door, but the other returned to Tracy’s car.

  “What’s he doing?” Kiko asked.

  “He’s grabbing her purse and her purchases,” Paul answered. “An abandoned car with a visible purse and bags might attract attention. They wanted this car to stay under the radar for as long as possible so they took her belongings with them.”

  On screen, the man carelessly tossed the bags into the back seat with their victim before getting into the front passenger seat. Then they drove away, leaving Tracy’s car alone in the picture.

  Leigh straightened and started to pace the floor in front of the workstation. “Two men. Not just one killer but two working together.” She whirled suddenly on Matt. “Why did we only see one man last Wednesday? Did we miss one?”

  His answer was immediate, his voice sure. “Not a chance. I suppose there could have been someone in the boat. But … no, that doesn’t make sense. Why have only one man dig the grave if there are two available? It would take much longer that way and you’d run a higher risk of getting caught in the act. No, there was only one man out on the marsh that day. I’m sure of it.”

  Leigh started to pace again. “Me too. So then why two men working together here? We never anticipated that.” She stopped again. “Do you know how rare it is to have serial killers working together?”

  “I bet it’s very rare. Lucky us.” His sarcasm was unmistakable.

  Leigh wanted to put her hands into her hair and yank hard in frustration. One bone had become eight victims. One killer had become two. She made herself focus on what she had just seen. “This just shows how organized and staged this whole scene was. I don’t know where the second man was waiting but he was never on screen before that moment. Juka, roll it back a bit please. Yes, about there … stop! Hold it there. Perfect.”

  On screen, in grainy black and whi
te, the two men supported Tracy between them as they stood beside the car.

  “What are we looking for?” Paul asked.

  “Anything that we can use to identify these men. They’re both wearing gloves so fingerprints are out. They’re both wearing hats that hide their faces from this angle. But standing beside the car like this, we can estimate height and weight.”

  “Why do you think they left it there?” Kiko asked suddenly. When everyone turned to her in question, she clarified. “Her car. Why did they leave her car? Wouldn’t they have been wiser to take the car at the same time they took her? They could have dumped it somewhere so it looked like a carjacking or something.”

  “It’s a valid question,” Leigh said. “There could be a couple of reasons. For starters, they simply might not have thought about it. Some criminals don’t think things through that well.”

  Matt made a sound of derision. “You can’t believe that in this case.”

  “No. Not with what we just saw. This required advanced planning. Whether Tracy was chosen and they followed her to this location or whether she was a random victim, they had their trap planned out. ‘Miss, can you help me? My car won’t start and I don’t have AAA. Do you have any jumper cables?’ Most people will willingly help someone they see as being in need, often not considering their own safety because they never think they might be in danger. They just think they’re doing a good deed. I agree though. This wasn’t a case of not thinking it through.”

  “I’ll bet they did think it through,” Matt interjected. “They hardly had any contact with that vehicle. The less contact, the less chance of leaving anything in the way of incriminating evidence—epithelials on the steering wheel, hair on the headrest … anything that could lead the police back to them and link them definitively through DNA analysis to the crime scene.”