Hothouse Orchid (Holly Barker 6)

“I get your point,” Josh said. “That could result in death instead of just unconsciousness.”

“Probably surprised the perp,” Holly said. “He was aiming for a neck muscle, but he hit the vein or artery instead, and she dies. He had to get rid of the body in a hurry, so he takes it out in a small boat, ties a weight to an ankle and throws her overboard. Only his outboard severs the rope, and she ends up a floater. Did I mention that she had a rope tied to a leg and that the rope had been severed?”

“No, but that makes sense. I suppose you must have a very rattled perp.”

“Maybe,” Holly said. “Or maybe he ended up enjoying the experience.”

“The experience of killing someone?”

“Maybe. Or maybe the experience of sex with a dead body.”

Josh gave a little shiver. “Creepy.”

“When you think about it, it’s not a very big step from sex with an unconscious body. Either way, she’s not going to fight back, and maybe he feels safer with his victim dead.”

“This is all outside my experience,” Josh said. “I mean, if somebody walks into my ER who appears to be psychotic, I just patch him up, then call for a psych consult and hand him off. Chances are, I never see him again.”

“Lucky you,” Holly said. “Eventually, the cops have to deal with him, and, like our serial rapist, they don’t even know who he is.”

“From what you said before about his finding the Rohypnol in a search, I take it you’re considering the possibility that your perpetrator is a cop?”

“He had a flashing light on his dashboard, and in the dark, a driver seeing the light wouldn’t see much of the car in her rearview mirror. The cop who’s investigating the crimes-you met him, Jimmy Weathers-brought up that possibility right away. He said he had already eliminated the men on the Orchid force as suspects, so he’s thinking of somebody in a neighboring jurisdiction.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Josh cocked his head and looked at her. “You enjoy this process, don’t you?”

Holly laughed. “It’s the cop in me, I suppose. Until a few years ago, I had never done anything but be a cop. My new work is very, very interesting, but it doesn’t involve much in the way of criminal investigation, and I guess I miss that.”

“My guess is, you’re not going to stop thinking about this until you’ve caught the guy,” Josh said.

“Until somebody catches the guy,” she replied, “and I guess it would be satisfying if it were me.”

12

Lauren Cade got out of Hurd Wallace’s car at the Indian River Marina and followed him across the parking lot.

“Here we go,” Hurd said, pointing at two Dumpsters. “You take the one on the right; I’ll take the left.”

They both donned lightweight plastic jumpsuits and latex gloves.

Lauren opened the lid of the Dumpster and peered inside. It was nearly full, and to judge from the smell, it hadn’t been emptied for a few days. She took a deep breath, grabbed the edge of the Dumpster and vaulted inside, landing on her feet, but immediately losing her footing and falling backward into the steel side. She struggled to her feet, glad of the plastic jumpsuit, then looked over at Hurd, who was having the same problem.

“We might get lucky and find some loose clothing,” Hurd said, “but they could be in a bag, so let’s toss everything out and work from the tarmac.”

Lauren began picking up plastic garbage bags and tossing them out of the Dumpster. During the process, she found one loose towel but no clothing. When the Dumpster was empty, she crawled out and stood on the tarmac, surveying her work. Most of it was small, kitchen-sized bags, which is what she would have expected from boats. “Are we just going to dump everything out of the bags?” she asked.

“Yes,” Hurd said. “I’ve already called for a garbage pickup from the county, so they’ll do the cleanup.”

“I’ve got one loose item,” Lauren said, holding up the towel.

“Bag it, and set it aside.”

She did so, then took a knife from her pocket and began opening bags, shaking the contents onto the bare tarmac and poking carefully through them before going on to the next bag.

“Look for anything like a wallet or purse, too,” Hurd said.

Lauren looked at every single item in every bag: tin cans, paper plates, condoms, tampons-everything. An hour later she stepped out of the refuse and onto clean tarmac, just as a garbage truck drove up and two sanitation workers got out.

“What a mess!” one of them said. “You had to open every bag?”