Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4)

“You okay?” Brad asked.

Her laugh held no hints of humor. “Never better. How about you?”

“I could think of a few things I’d rather be doing now?”

She grinned. “Just a few?”

“Maybe a couple of dozen.”

She sat back on her heels and wiped her brow again. “I think the body is ready to go. I’ll slide out the board toward you.”

The pendant suggested they had a female victim. The bones confirmed it. “Dr. Heller might prove me wrong, but I’m certain the victim was a woman.”

“More evidence to suggest it’s Bethany.”

“If I had to bet, yeah.”

She didn’t have to remind him to go slowly or to treat the remains carefully. She and Brad had worked together for five years now and she trusted his attention to detail.

When the second body was gone, the chamber felt suddenly empty, even lighter, as if removing the bones had uncorked the bottle and freed the trapped spirits. “Time to go home, Bethany.”

Georgia studied the ground where the bones had lain. She took more pictures before reaching for a small soil sifter. Carefully, she sifted through the dirt, searching for any trace evidence.

Unlike witness statements, evidence was slower to yield its story, but it didn’t lie either. It would easily be weeks, perhaps months, before all the evidence would be processed. But when it did speak, she was determined there’d be no contamination, and its voice would be clear and decisive.

With the first of the pair out of the cave, she turned to the second set of remains and began the process all over again.

It was close to one in the morning when she crawled out of the cave and watched as the bagged remains of both victims were carried up the hill. There were representatives from the medical examiner’s office waiting to carry the body bags out of the woods where they would be loaded into a transport vehicle and taken directly to the medical examiner’s office.

Her knees and back groaned as she straightened. A check of her watch told her she’d been at this more than twelve hours. She unzipped her Tyvek suit and peeled it off. A cool breeze blew across her sweat-soaked shirt plastered to her skin. A shiver chased the warmth out of her body.

“Had enough for one night?” Jake Bishop’s Boston accent cut through the air, snatching her attention away from the darkness. He handed her a water bottle, which she readily accepted.

She cracked open the bottle cap. “What brings you out here on this lovely night?”

He had showered and changed into a clean shirt and suit. The faint scent of his aftershave wafted toward her. No doubt he showered at the station. Homicide cops often went nonstop in the first forty-eight to seventy-two hours of an investigation. Though it took time to sort through all the evidence, they understood that critical witness statements needed to be gathered as quickly as possible.

Under Georgia’s gaze, he slid his fingers down the gig line, the center seam of his shirt, to his belt buckle as if checking its accuracy.

“It’s straight.” She gulped down water. “It’s always straight.”

Dark eyes lightened with laughter. “Jealous?”

“Not really.” She held out her arms. “Not when I’m feeling so fetching today.”

“It works for me.”

The heat under the words warmed her cheeks, tipping her to the defensive. “Why are you here?”

“Just checking in to see how my crime scene is progressing.”

“It’s our crime scene.” She drank from the bottle, savoring the cool liquid.

“Sure.” He handed her a packet of crackers. “I met with Elisa Spence’s parents. They’ve gone by the medical examiner’s office, and according to Dr. Heller, positively identified their daughter.”

She shoved out a breath. “Damn.”

“Yeah.” Both stood in silence for a moment as the weight of the day settled. Finally, Jake cleared his throat. “So what did you find inside?”

As she peeled away the wrapper, she detailed her findings in the catalog of facts. “Follow me to the truck. There are a few things I’d like to show you.”

“Don’t tease me.”

Any other cop who’d made that joke would have earned a laugh. However, Jake’s idea of a joke unsettled her. “So not funny.”

“That the best you got?”

“Afraid so.” Too tired to fire back, she kept walking, putting one foot in front of the other. She only slept an hour or two last night and the nonstop day had drained what little reserves she had mustered this morning.

She opened the back of the evidence truck and rooted through the plastic bags which all held the evidence she had collected from the scene. At this point, she had an unnamed killer who had presented her with a giant puzzle with hundreds of pieces in need of sorting before she could create a cohesive forensic picture for the detectives.

“To begin with, there were two victims in the back chamber.” She detailed her findings and then from her collected evidence, she found a bag with the remnants of candle wax.

Jake held up the bag to the floodlight and studied the dark ring. “What do you make of it? Looks like a wax.”

She rolled her head from side to side wincing as the stiff muscles protested. “Just like I found in the outer chamber. Whoever this guy is, he likes to light a candle while he’s in the cave with his victims.”

“He likes seeing his victims suffer. Can’t tell if he killed them here or placed them here.”

“Yeah, he’s a real peach.” She raised the bottle to her lips, draining the last of it.

“Three out of three bodies have been found,” Jake said. “But we still can’t confirm if we have Bethany and Mike.”

“I think we do, but Dr. Heller will make the final call,” Georgia said.

“And no sign of anything belonging to Mike in the cave?”

“Unless you count the gun next to the body. It appears the serial number has been filed off. Still, ask Marlowe if he’s missing a gun. Might get lucky.”

“I can let Bethany’s family know we found the pendant?”

“Sure. It might mean something to her mother.”

“I’m sure it will.”

She grabbed another water bottle from the truck and twisted off the top. “So what did you find out about the first victim?”

“Nothing jumping out yet. Rick’s going through surveillance data from a local coffee shop now. According to her roommate, it was Elisa Spence’s home away from home.”

“I have a few hangouts like that.” She liked being lost in a crowd. She felt safer and more protected when she was surrounded by the chatter and laughter of strangers, lights, and the sense that she was not alone.

Again, she rubbed her neck, soothing tight muscles and frayed nerves. Like it or not, she had to go to her apartment soon and get some sleep. If she kept going with little or no rest, she’d drop right where she stood.

“You look like you’re dead on your feet,” Jake said.

Georgia refocused her gaze, realizing she’d allowed the veil to drop for a split second. She grinned as she raised the water bottle to her lips. “Just need more water; otherwise, I’m fine. I’ve a few more hours here and then I’ll head home and get a good night’s sleep.”

“When was the last time you really slept?”

“Last night was hit or miss, but I’m used to it.”

“Used to it? What’s that mean?”

She’d heard things about Jake Bishop in the few years they’d worked together. Arrogant. Brash. A charmer. Temper when pushed. Hell of a detective who read people damn well.

Now she was trying to keep her act together as the Amazing Mindreading Kreskin studied her. “Direct those eyes elsewhere. I’m not into any kind of deep Q&A right now. I have to wrap up this scene.”

“You always get a little pissy when you’re tired.”

“Bite me.”

“I’ve hit one of your nerves.” His voice deepened with a smoky tone.