Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4)

“It’s from a rape in the East End. I collected it last week but haven’t had the chance yet to test it.”

She remembered the case. Seventeen-year-old girl walking home from work was dragged into an alley, beaten and raped. So far, her attacker remained on the loose.

“The media has gotten hold of the Percy Warner Park case. They are calling every half hour trying to find out if the old and new cases are linked.”

She didn’t listen to the news much. Half the time it upset her, and the other half made her angry when reporters spouted misleading junk science. “Don’t bother to take the calls. None of them wants to hear it can take months to assemble all the physical evidence. They all think we can process the scenes in an hour and have DNA in twenty minutes just like the TV show.”

He laughed. “The word from the top is no one talks to the media. Deke has summoned Jake and Rick, and they’re headed this way now for a meeting.”

“That should be fun.”

“I hear the retests you did on Amber Ryder’s old clothes have been bumped to the top of the priority list.”

“Good.” The discovery of the bodies, along with a push from Deke, accomplished that miracle. She fished her phone out of her purse and glanced at the display. Six missed calls. Scrolling through, she identified four as local media. “Looks like the reporters have me on their radar.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Shining a light on cold cases?”

“Be careful what you wish for, right?”

“You know you love it.”

“Maybe a little,” she said with a hint of satisfaction. She set her cup and purse down on her desk and moved toward a box of latex gloves.

“Our pal Detective Bishop called at five in the morning to tell me the medical examiner’s office would be delivering Elisa Spence’s clothes before noon and they needed them to be processed ASAP. The articles arrived about five minutes ago.”

“I understand Jake and Rick talked to the parents, and they made the formal ID at the medical examiner’s office.”

When she imagined Rick and Jake making the death notice, she pictured Rick doing the talking. He possessed that soft Boy Scout vibe that put people at ease, whereas Jake was more like a charming jackhammer.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” she asked as Brad arched his back and tried to stretch out the stiffness.

“A few hours. I’m surprised Bishop didn’t call you.”

She set her coffee cup down, moving toward the table where he worked. “He did. My phone’s been off until a few seconds ago.”

Georgia donned plastic gloves before unpacking the paper bags of Elisa Spence’s clothes sent over by the medical examiner’s office. Paper bags allowed air to flow in and out whereas plastic bags created an airtight seal that allowed for the buildup of heat and mold. Both could destroy any kind of biological evidence within hours.

She laid out the garments on a light table. There was a white bloodstained shirt, a khaki skirt, a shoe, and lacy undergarments.

“Leave no stone unturned,” he said copying Jake’s Boston accent.

She laughed. “You sound like him.”

“Seriously, that guy can be pushy as hell.”

“He can’t help it,” she said, grinning. “I think he was born with a stick up his ass.”

Brad laughed, glancing toward the door as if he were afraid Jake would appear. “I never said that.”

“That’s because you’re afraid of him.”

He straightened his shoulders. “Not afraid, exactly. Just damn leery. Never know when he’ll throw the switch.”

“Take his best shot.” When it came to Jake, she was always snapping back and pushing away.

Pushing him from her thoughts, she focused on the white striped button-down shirt, taking extra care to tug any wrinkles on the arms or front panel. She clicked on a light suspended from a retractable arm and shone it on the material. She would go over the shirt, combing the fibers and threads for any loose materials that could be tested for DNA.

Killers always thought they were clever, but like she had said before, they all left something behind for her to find. It might be barely noticeable, but it was there.

She moved up and down the shirt, plucking several dark hairs with tweezers and then bagging and tagging them. She collected blood samples from the torn right sleeve and from the collar of the shirt. Once she reviewed every inch of the shirt a second time, she turned off the white light and grabbed a black light. Clicking it on, she scanned the shirt, searching for stains, including blood, semen, or urine. As she raised the bottom hem of the shirt, she spotted a faint stain glowing under the black light.

“Hey, now,” she muttered. “Where did you come from?” She carefully clipped away part of the fabric and dropped it in a test tube. “Thought you were so clever, didn’t you.”

“Did you say something?” Brad asked.

“Found a stain.”

He raised his head. “Good.”

Georgia scraped dirt from the bottom of Elisa’s shoe, plucked hair fibers from her skirt and documented two more stains.

She studied the shoe Elisa had worn into the woods. It was simple but expensive. Checking the label on her skirt and shirt, Georgia noted the moderately priced labels.

“The bodies in the back chamber look like a murder /suicide,” Brad said.

“I’d have bought it, if not for the newest victim. No way a second killer would have found that cave. No way.”

Likely little forensic data remained on the bones, but it only took a little to connect killer to victim.

* * *

Jake and Rick arrived at the medical examiner’s office in late afternoon. Jake showed his badge to the receptionist behind the thick glass panel and, leaning into the microphone, said, “Dr. Heller is expecting us.”

“I’ll buzz her,” the tall, thin woman said.

Rick reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and removed a folded piece of white paper. “Jenna swung by the coffee shop and talked to Cleo and spent a couple of hours with her drawing a composite. She thinks the likeness she drew is a fair representation given Cleo’s memory isn’t as sharp as she hoped.”

Jake studied the precise sketch of a bearded man. “He looks like a country-western star. But they all look alike to me.”

“That’s what I said. Cleo does have a thing for the country singers, according to Jenna. She talked about them a lot over the few hours Jenna spent with Cleo.”

Jake tapped the edge of the paper with his finger. “I appreciate her doing the work. Every bit helps.”

“Killers are creatures of habit,” Rick said. “Maybe his habit is Blue Note Java.”

“Very possible.” His phone buzzed and he checked the display. Dalton Marlowe’s name flashed. He sent the call to voice mail. He’d call him back as soon as he had more concrete answers.

The side door buzzed open and Dr. Miriam Heller appeared. She wore loose fitting green scrubs that moved easily with her as her long legs ate up the distance. Originally from the Northeast, she settled in Nashville four years ago and had established herself as a top-notch pathologist. Armed with a dry humor, Dr. Heller not only interacted well with the cops but also was known for her compassion when dealing with the families of the dead.

Jake smoothed his hand over his tie. “Dr. H. So we meet again.”

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, gentlemen.” She nodded to Rick and smiled. “How are Jenna and Tracker?”

“Doing great. Thanks.”

“Maybe sometime we can all meet for a beer,” she said. “We can figure out if we can have a conversation that doesn’t involve death.”

Jake shrugged. “So what do you want to talk about while we’re having this beer, Dr. H.? You don’t strike me as a football or country music fan.”

“You might be surprised.” She turned and punched numbers into the keypad that unlocked the side door. They followed, allowing the door to close behind them.

Jake lowe

red his voice a notch. “Thanks for coming in last night and meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Spence.”

“I’ve seen their kind of pain so many times in this office, but it never gets easier. Seeing their daughter was a shock but they handled it the best they could.”

She moved down the hallway and then pushed open the doors to the large exam room. “Go ahead and gown up and I’ll meet you in the autopsy room.”

As Dr. Heller vanished through swinging doors, Jake and Rick reached for gowns.