Part 29 (1/2)
Suzanne asked, ”How can you tell?”
”The autopsy reports on the other victims had the bruising in a fairly straight pattern on the neck. These cuts are angled down, from her chin toward her shoulders, as if the killer were holding the plastic bag over her head and pulling down at an angle. I also think she fought back more than the other victims. There's a rawness to her wound that I didn't see in the others.”
Suzanne said, ”Hey, are those nails real or fake?”
”Fake,” Lucy and the coroner said at the same time. ”Four are broken off,” the coroner added.
”Her index and middle fingers,” Lucy said.
The coroner bagged her hands. ”There are threads and possible fabric in her palm. I don't want to take them out here. We could lose trace evidence. I'll bag them at the morgue.”
Suzanne said, ”I don't have to tell you it's a rush.”
”No, Special Agent Madeaux, you don't have to tell me.”
Lucy stood. ”Thank you for letting me help.”
”You a Fed?” the coroner asked with distaste.
”No.”
”You're not NYPD.”
”No.”
”Want a job?”
She smiled. ”Maybe.”
”Let me know.”
Lucy stepped out from under the tarp. Suzanne followed. ”Carl Brewer is an a.s.s. He doesn't like anyone, except obviously you.”
”He reminds me of someone I know,” Lucy said. ”It's all about appreciating his expertise and being smart at the same time.”
Suzanne shook her head and led the way to the abandoned building. ”We're going to talk to the victim's roommate and two other potential witnesses.” She stepped over a broken bottle. ”The killer got sloppy. We never had physical evidence before.”
”She should never have gone after a girl taller than her,” said Lucy.
”She?” Suzanne and Panetta said simultaneously. Suzanne added, ”Your report didn't indicate male or female.”
Lucy frowned. ”It has to do with the motive.”
”What motive?” Suzanne asked.
”I don't want to say right now.”
Suzanne stopped walking. ”I don't care what you want; let's hear your theory.”
”I'm still working on it.”
”Work faster.”
Suzanne stood staring at her. Lucy looked up at Sean. ”I don't think this is a good idea. It's reckless to form a theory without enough information.”
Sean said, ”It gives the cops one direction, but doesn't close off all the other avenues.”
Lucy wanted Sean to support her, but he didn't.
”Lucy,” he said, ”tell Suzanne what you told me in the car.”
”Yes, tell me,” Suzanne said.
”I think this girl was killed because you arrested Wade Barnett and the killer doesn't want him in jail. The only way to prove that he isn't the Cinderella Strangler is to kill again. I think this victim was picked randomly-because she was outside, alone.”
”Or she left with the killer.”
”Possibly,” Lucy said, though she didn't think so. Too great a chance to be seen.
”Is she one of the girls on the Party Girl website?” Suzanne asked.
Sean answered. ”I don't know, but with your permission I'll send her photo to my partner in Was.h.i.+ngton. He's nearly done rebuilding the site; he can go through looking for her.”
”I'll have her ID emailed to him.”
Suzanne started walking again. ”So the question is: Does Wade Barnett have a partner? If yes, who? If no, why would the killer want him out of prison?”
”We know Wade had s.e.x with at least three of the victims,” Lucy began. She was about to share the rest of her theory, the one she still hadn't quite worked through, taking a huge risk of being wrong. But Detective Panetta interrupted her.
”Dennis Barnett.”
They turned and looked at him. Suzanne's face fell, and Lucy said, ”The younger brother?”
”According to Suzanne's report, he's protective of his older brother. He stated that he was Wade Barnett's driver for the last six months when Barnett lost his license after two DWIs. He sat in the parking lot while his brother partied and had s.e.x with whomever. Maybe it ate away at him. Or he can't get it up, or he's jealous of his big bro, or just a sociopath. So he kills the stray girl.”
”I don't know,” Suzanne said slowly. ”Dennis told me that Alanna Andrews was kind to him and that she had defended him when Wade got frustrated with him.”
”Maybe little brother wanted her for himself,” Panetta said, ”and she said no. The first victim usually goes to the heart of the serial murderer, isn't that generally true?”
The cop looked at Lucy. She nodded and said, ”The first victim usually has a personal significance for the killer.”
Suzanne frowned. ”Dennis is five foot nine, according to his driver's license.” She turned to Lucy. ”What do you think?”
Lucy didn't want to be at center stage. She didn't know what to think-her theory was all shot to h.e.l.l if Dennis Barnett was the Cinderella Strangler. She'd been thinking last night, and seemed to have it confirmed when another victim died, that the killer was an ex-girlfriend of Wade Barnett's. Someone whom he'd cheated on, most likely with the first victim, Alanna Andrews. That her death had been spontaneous because the killer had just found out about the affair.
She had hoped to go with Suzanne to interview Wade Barnett and ask him questions about his ex-girlfriends, particularly any with a history of violence. A girl who might have broken things when she was mad. Someone impulsive. Someone who had not expected him to break up with her, and who had let him know that with anger rather than tears.