Read Online Captive Justice: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (A Jake & Annie Lincoln Thriller Book 4) by Rayven T. Hill - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rayven T. Hill
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“Morning, Rod.”
Jameson grunted. “You’d think these perps would at least wait until a decent hour.”
“Yeah, well, you know how it is,” Hank said. “Crime waits for no man.”
Jameson took another sip of the take-out coffee he was holding. “I guess we best see what this is all about.”
Hank approached the scene carefully and stopped at the edge of the path adjacent to the body. He pointed to the grass and weeds that lined the shoulder of the road and down into the ditch. “The body was rolled down the grade,” he said. “The grass has been flattened.”
Jameson nodded and made a note on the clipboard he was carrying.
A police photographer came over, adjusting the lens of his camera. He got it set up to his satisfaction and began taking shots along the edge of the road. Other investigators had stepped up, combing the ground and bagging potential evidence.
To avoid disturbing the scene, Hank stepped down the incline at one side, circled around behind the body and crouched down. It was a woman, with dark, medium length hair and dressed in a business suit. She was missing one shoe; it was halfway up the incline and he assumed it had fallen off as the body rolled down the grade. He couldn’t see her face as it was turned partly downwards, but from the description, he was sure it was Mrs. Gould.
The photographer moved down the incline and approached the body from the side. His camera continued to click.
Hank leaned over, rolled the body back slightly and examined the gray face. It was Mrs. Gould. No doubt about it.
Hank stood and looked up the incline. The medical examiner, Nancy Pietek had just arrived and was stepping gingerly down the bank. Hank gave her a grim nod.
“Hello, Hank,” Nancy said, as she approached, pulling on a pair of surgical gloves. She crouched down beside the body and made a preliminary examination.
“Livor mortis shows she wasn’t likely killed here.” She pointed to a purplish discoloration of the skin on the back of the body. “See how the blood has settled. The body is lying on its side, but the pooling is present on the back. That indicates she was killed elsewhere and then dropped here at a later time, or . . . if she was killed here, then the body was recently moved.”
“I’m guessing she was killed elsewhere,” Hank said.
“And rigor mortis has set in,” Nancy continued. “I’d put the approximate time of death at about ten to twelve hours ago.”
Hank frowned. Twelve hours ago would mean she’d been killed shortly after Jake had delivered the ransom money.
Nancy pulled back the collar of Mrs. Gould’s jacket revealing strangulation marks dug into the flesh. “Looks like she was strangled with a garrote.” She leaned in a little closer. “Probably wire.”
“Any identification on her?” Hank asked.
“Not that I can find,” Nancy said. “But there is this.” She pulled the collar back a little, exposing a thin gold necklace with a small diamond in a gold ball pendant.
Hank pulled out his cell phone and snapped a close-up photo of the pendant. If Dr. Gould recognized that, it would be an almost positive ID. The doctor would have to identify the body later of course, but that would do for now. He wasn’t looking forward to the uncomfortable task of breaking the news.
Hank would get a full autopsy report as soon as Nancy could get it done, likely later today. He stood, went back up the bank and approached Jameson.
“Who called this in, do you know?”
Jameson consulted his clipboard. “A farmer on his way to town. Trenton Scott.”
Hank glanced around. “Where is he now?”
“At home. He doesn’t have a cell, so he went home to make the call.” Jameson pointed up the road. “He lives that way with his wife. About three or four miles.” He scribbled on a blank sheet of paper and handed it to Hank. “Here’s his phone number, but I suspect his name’ll be on the mailbox.”
Hank took the paper, glanced at it and then folded it
Jameson grunted. “You’d think these perps would at least wait until a decent hour.”
“Yeah, well, you know how it is,” Hank said. “Crime waits for no man.”
Jameson took another sip of the take-out coffee he was holding. “I guess we best see what this is all about.”
Hank approached the scene carefully and stopped at the edge of the path adjacent to the body. He pointed to the grass and weeds that lined the shoulder of the road and down into the ditch. “The body was rolled down the grade,” he said. “The grass has been flattened.”
Jameson nodded and made a note on the clipboard he was carrying.
A police photographer came over, adjusting the lens of his camera. He got it set up to his satisfaction and began taking shots along the edge of the road. Other investigators had stepped up, combing the ground and bagging potential evidence.
To avoid disturbing the scene, Hank stepped down the incline at one side, circled around behind the body and crouched down. It was a woman, with dark, medium length hair and dressed in a business suit. She was missing one shoe; it was halfway up the incline and he assumed it had fallen off as the body rolled down the grade. He couldn’t see her face as it was turned partly downwards, but from the description, he was sure it was Mrs. Gould.
The photographer moved down the incline and approached the body from the side. His camera continued to click.
Hank leaned over, rolled the body back slightly and examined the gray face. It was Mrs. Gould. No doubt about it.
Hank stood and looked up the incline. The medical examiner, Nancy Pietek had just arrived and was stepping gingerly down the bank. Hank gave her a grim nod.
“Hello, Hank,” Nancy said, as she approached, pulling on a pair of surgical gloves. She crouched down beside the body and made a preliminary examination.
“Livor mortis shows she wasn’t likely killed here.” She pointed to a purplish discoloration of the skin on the back of the body. “See how the blood has settled. The body is lying on its side, but the pooling is present on the back. That indicates she was killed elsewhere and then dropped here at a later time, or . . . if she was killed here, then the body was recently moved.”
“I’m guessing she was killed elsewhere,” Hank said.
“And rigor mortis has set in,” Nancy continued. “I’d put the approximate time of death at about ten to twelve hours ago.”
Hank frowned. Twelve hours ago would mean she’d been killed shortly after Jake had delivered the ransom money.
Nancy pulled back the collar of Mrs. Gould’s jacket revealing strangulation marks dug into the flesh. “Looks like she was strangled with a garrote.” She leaned in a little closer. “Probably wire.”
“Any identification on her?” Hank asked.
“Not that I can find,” Nancy said. “But there is this.” She pulled the collar back a little, exposing a thin gold necklace with a small diamond in a gold ball pendant.
Hank pulled out his cell phone and snapped a close-up photo of the pendant. If Dr. Gould recognized that, it would be an almost positive ID. The doctor would have to identify the body later of course, but that would do for now. He wasn’t looking forward to the uncomfortable task of breaking the news.
Hank would get a full autopsy report as soon as Nancy could get it done, likely later today. He stood, went back up the bank and approached Jameson.
“Who called this in, do you know?”
Jameson consulted his clipboard. “A farmer on his way to town. Trenton Scott.”
Hank glanced around. “Where is he now?”
“At home. He doesn’t have a cell, so he went home to make the call.” Jameson pointed up the road. “He lives that way with his wife. About three or four miles.” He scribbled on a blank sheet of paper and handed it to Hank. “Here’s his phone number, but I suspect his name’ll be on the mailbox.”
Hank took the paper, glanced at it and then folded it
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