“That phrase—casus belli—got leaked to the press. It was all over the news.”
“Yeah, Cathlyn remembered that too.”
“Same thing with the chain. It was reported that Josie Stratton was chained to the wall. We hadn’t given out that detail though. My guess is that someone at the hospital who was privy to that information, talked to a reporter.”
Zach nodded, thinking. “This guy used a condom. The man who abducted and raped Josie Stratton obviously didn’t. What are your thoughts there?”
Murphy let out a long sigh, opening the box next to them and taking out Josie’s file. He opened it in front of him and leafed through it for a moment, his eyes tightening at the corners. From where he sat, Zach could see photos of the crime scene Josie had escaped from and subsequently been able to lead police to, photos of Josie herself, face gaunt, her postpartum body malnourished and fighting infection, but eyes filled with fire. Despite the hell she’d endured, she still had fight in her, if only a spark. He’d seen it then, and he could see it now, even in an upside-down photograph as Murphy quickly turned the page. It felt like a hot poker seared the underside of his skin. The only words he had to describe the emotion coursing through him was deep admiration.
“If the copycat knows the case, he knows that Josie Stratton had just given birth when she escaped. If he’s smart, he learned from the first guy, learned not to get his victim pregnant, and learned not to leave DNA evidence behind.”
Zach nodded. The same conclusion Cathlyn had come to as well.
“The other thing that’s similar is the starvation factor,” Murphy noted. “Marshall Landish didn’t leave Josie Stratton to starve to death, but she often went hungry, often feared starvation.”
“Do you think this new suspect tried the same method and accidentally killed his victim that way?”
“Could be, or could be it wasn’t his intention to starve her at all. He could have been picked up on another charge, spent time in jail while his victim slowly starved in that basement.”
“She was hydrated though.”
“Josie Stratton drank rainwater from a crack in the wall when it was available. Perhaps your new victim had access to water that didn’t come from the perp.” Maybe. Zach would have the criminalists look at the walls of the basement, determine if there were cracks. If so, and the victim stayed hydrated that way, it was possible that the suspect had unintentionally left her there because of being detained elsewhere. At this point, countless possibilities loomed.
His head was starting to hurt. Murphy dropped the file back into the box and pushed it toward Zach. “Look through this. Maybe there’s something in there I’m not remembering that will help with this new case.”
“Thanks, Murphy.”
“No problem.” Murphy paused and then stood slowly. Zach stood as well. “She calls every year, you know?”
“Josie?”
Murphy nodded, frowning. “Yeah. But . . . come to think of it, she didn’t this year. She used to always call on the anniversary of her escape, ask if we had any new leads about her son.” He ran a hand over his thinning hair. “Killed me to give her the same damn answer every time, but we just never could find a shred of information on what Landish did with the infant.” He shook his head, pressing his lips together. “Anyway, she would have called in February but she didn’t. I guess everyone gives up at some point.” He sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. “Truthfully, I’m glad she has.”
“Why?” Zach asked.
Murphy looked him square in the eye. “Why? Because kid’s gotta be dead. A sick fuck like that? I can’t see him dropping the baby off on some nice old lady’s doorstep. Plus, if he had, someone would have let us know. It was national news. Hell, international. Nah, he threw that kid in some garbage dump, treated him about as well as he treated his mother. And Josie Stratton not calling this year? I gotta hope maybe it means she’s moving on.”
“Do you know where she’s living now?”
“Last time I talked to her she had just moved to Oxford, Ohio, near an aunt. The address is in the file there.”
Zach thanked Murphy again, took the box, and walked back to his desk. Just as he was sitting down, his cell rang. Jimmy.
“Tell me you have something,” he said.
“Yes, siree. Pretty sure I have an ID. The woman on our missing persons list who disappeared after leaving her job at the bar in Hyde Park? Aria Glazer? She had gotten a tattoo on her ankle six months before she disappeared. Her roommate was at work, but I talked to her briefly. She’d forgotten about it at the time of Aria’s disappearance, said she was distraught, and the question of tattoos didn’t come up.” Zach was sure the detectives who’d interviewed the roommate had asked about identifying marks, but maybe she didn’t consider the tattoo. Sometimes you had to be really specific with people.
“A daisy,” Zach said.
“Bingo. We need to get dental records.”
That’ll be a fun request, Zach thought, cringing inwardly at the thought of calling her parents. They’d know immediately why the records were needed. But if this was Aria Glazer, her parents would get some closure, and he might have somewhere to go with this case. Some information that would help find the animal who’d done this, so he could prevent him from doing it again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Before
Marshall stayed away for three days. On the third day, Josie heard him descending the stairs and burst into relieved sobs. But when he came in the door, she sensed a difference to his mood, something off that she couldn’t put her finger on, especially with his face covered the way it was. She was tempted to tell him she already knew who he was, that the mask wasn’t necessary, but it was the only ace she had up her sleeve, the only thing that gave her a smidgeon of hope that he’d eventually let her go, believing she wouldn’t be able to identify him.