“No contusions or bruising except for one abrasion on the left side, like a necklace or chain was torn off it,” she said. “I think whoever killed her hooked one arm around her head and snapped the vertebrae. He either has military training or has done it before.”
“The last time I saw her, she was wearing a Maltese cross,” I said.
“Like Hilary Bienville?”
“Yes.”
“Who killed her, if it wasn’t Tillinger? There was no one else around, correct?”
“No one we saw.”
“So why was he here?”
I shook my head.
“What happened with Sean?” she said.
“Later.”
Two St. Martin detectives in suits were standing in the doorway. One was smoking a cigarette. At my request, they had waited to remove the body.
“Say, if you guys have a Ziploc, I’ll bag the chalice and the rose for you guys,” Bailey said.
The detective who was smoking flipped his cigarette into the yard. “There on the front seat of the cruiser. Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks. Oh, flag your cigarette butts, will you?” she said. “I’d hate for the guys at the lab to get your DNA mixed up with a homicidal maniac’s. You guys didn’t use the toilet, did you?”
They stared at her as they would a space creature. I put a Ziploc in her hand. She removed the chalice and the rose from Bella’s fingers and slipped it inside.
“He made her the Queen of Cups,” she said. “Hilary Bienville didn’t meet the standard, so he substituted this poor lady for his sacrificial offering.”
“What does the rose mean?” I said.
“A Freudian would probably say it’s sexual. But nobody listens to Freud anymore. What’s in the rest of the house?”
“He destroyed her guitar in the kitchen.”
“Any sign of forced entry?”
“No.”
“So he probably knew her. He taped her eyes because he’s a coward. He used X’s to degrade her. He bears animus toward the arts or music or creativity. He left the gas on and a candle burning so the house would blow up.”
“What are you saying?”
“I think this has Tillinger’s stamp on it,” she said.
“Because Tillinger tore heavy-metal posters off his daughter’s wall?”
“Because the state of Texas believes he burned up his family.”
“Earlier today Clete and I saw a guy with a rifle in a boat. He was looking at us through a telescopic sight.”
Her eyes roved over my face. “Want me to take it from here?”
“You think I’m imagining things?”
She put her arm in mine. “Walk with me.”