a job on Ramey. Nothing like a little vigilante justice with a biblical twist.“
It was true. Nude and rotting, the body of Anthony Ramey had been laid to rest minus his pelvic region. In its place was about a baseball-sized expanse of nothing.
„Eye for an eye,“ Kristen murmured, wishing to high heaven she’d brought along a handkerchief of her own. Even with the benefit of Nature’s freezer, the body’s odor was enough to turn her stomach and suddenly she felt like cursing Reagan’s kind breakfast gesture. Bagels and lox threatened to gag her.
„Shotgun?“ Reagan said to Mia, and she nodded.
„Probably.“ Mia crouched to get a closer look. „Definitely not the same gun that brought him down. Probably done after he was dead. The Polaroids don’t show any pelvic damage.“
„The ME can tell us for sure,“ Reagan said, crouching beside Mia. „What’s that?“
Mia squinted over the edge of the handkerchief. „What’s what?“
Reagan pointed to Ramey’s throat. „That pattern around his neck.“ He got down on his knees and bent down for a closer look, then looked back up at Mia. „Could be ligature marks from strangulation,“ he said. „Jack?“
Ligature marks. Oh, no , was all Kristen could think. No, no, no .
Jack brushed some dirt from Ramey’s neck with a soft-bristled brush. „Looks like it.“
Mia swung around to look at Kristen, her eyes narrowed. „Kristen, didn’t Ramey – “
Kristen’s mind was already there. Her gut tightened, the implications far too disturbing to contemplate. But contemplate they must. „He would come up to his victims from behind and strangle them with a thick necklace-like chain, but only to cut off their air supply so they couldn’t scream. When they stopped struggling, he stopped strangling, then dragged them off to a dark part of the parking garage to rape them. It was the chain that the defense said police obtained through an unlawful search of Ramey’s apartment. If we’d had that evidence, I could have gotten the conviction. But the jury never saw it.“
„So we have a copycat,“ Reagan said, still staring at the ligature marks.
Kristen shook her head, seeing from Mia’s expression that she understood, that any way it turned out, this would be very bad. „That was a detail we never gave to the press.“
Reagan’s head turned slowly, his expression as dark as Mia’s. „Then – “
Kristen nodded. „He’s got access to restricted data.“
Mia stood up and brushed at her slacks. „Or he’s one of us.“
Reagan’s breath hissed out. „Shit.“
Thursday, February 19,
7:45 am.
The bagels and lox were still in her stomach, but they weren’t happy to be there any more than Kristen was happy to be standing at the makeshift grave of three young men who’d taken the lives of two children so heedlessly. Once again their humble servant’s map had been accurate and once again he’d left behind the headstone.
Carved with the names of two little kids who’d never see the age of eight.
Jack had radioed ahead to the uniforms guarding the final scene, where they’d presumably find the body of Ross King, and sure enough, waiting for them was a headstone with the names of six innocent victims of a hideous theft of their childhoods. Their trust. Those six boys had testified so bravely, it still made her heart ache. They’d relived their terror and trauma to a closed courtroom, empty but for the boys’ parents, the judge, the defense attorney, Ross King, and herself. And the jury . She’d forgotten about the jury.
„Their names weren’t released,“ Kristen said out loud, and both Mia and Reagan turned to stare at her. She blinked, bringing their faces into focus. „The names of King’s victims were never released. They were minors. The arresting officers knew and the lawyers knew and the jury knew. I forgot about the jury.“ From her briefcase she pulled out the printouts she made during the night. „Here’s
It was true. Nude and rotting, the body of Anthony Ramey had been laid to rest minus his pelvic region. In its place was about a baseball-sized expanse of nothing.
„Eye for an eye,“ Kristen murmured, wishing to high heaven she’d brought along a handkerchief of her own. Even with the benefit of Nature’s freezer, the body’s odor was enough to turn her stomach and suddenly she felt like cursing Reagan’s kind breakfast gesture. Bagels and lox threatened to gag her.
„Shotgun?“ Reagan said to Mia, and she nodded.
„Probably.“ Mia crouched to get a closer look. „Definitely not the same gun that brought him down. Probably done after he was dead. The Polaroids don’t show any pelvic damage.“
„The ME can tell us for sure,“ Reagan said, crouching beside Mia. „What’s that?“
Mia squinted over the edge of the handkerchief. „What’s what?“
Reagan pointed to Ramey’s throat. „That pattern around his neck.“ He got down on his knees and bent down for a closer look, then looked back up at Mia. „Could be ligature marks from strangulation,“ he said. „Jack?“
Ligature marks. Oh, no , was all Kristen could think. No, no, no .
Jack brushed some dirt from Ramey’s neck with a soft-bristled brush. „Looks like it.“
Mia swung around to look at Kristen, her eyes narrowed. „Kristen, didn’t Ramey – “
Kristen’s mind was already there. Her gut tightened, the implications far too disturbing to contemplate. But contemplate they must. „He would come up to his victims from behind and strangle them with a thick necklace-like chain, but only to cut off their air supply so they couldn’t scream. When they stopped struggling, he stopped strangling, then dragged them off to a dark part of the parking garage to rape them. It was the chain that the defense said police obtained through an unlawful search of Ramey’s apartment. If we’d had that evidence, I could have gotten the conviction. But the jury never saw it.“
„So we have a copycat,“ Reagan said, still staring at the ligature marks.
Kristen shook her head, seeing from Mia’s expression that she understood, that any way it turned out, this would be very bad. „That was a detail we never gave to the press.“
Reagan’s head turned slowly, his expression as dark as Mia’s. „Then – “
Kristen nodded. „He’s got access to restricted data.“
Mia stood up and brushed at her slacks. „Or he’s one of us.“
Reagan’s breath hissed out. „Shit.“
Thursday, February 19,
7:45 am.
The bagels and lox were still in her stomach, but they weren’t happy to be there any more than Kristen was happy to be standing at the makeshift grave of three young men who’d taken the lives of two children so heedlessly. Once again their humble servant’s map had been accurate and once again he’d left behind the headstone.
Carved with the names of two little kids who’d never see the age of eight.
Jack had radioed ahead to the uniforms guarding the final scene, where they’d presumably find the body of Ross King, and sure enough, waiting for them was a headstone with the names of six innocent victims of a hideous theft of their childhoods. Their trust. Those six boys had testified so bravely, it still made her heart ache. They’d relived their terror and trauma to a closed courtroom, empty but for the boys’ parents, the judge, the defense attorney, Ross King, and herself. And the jury . She’d forgotten about the jury.
„Their names weren’t released,“ Kristen said out loud, and both Mia and Reagan turned to stare at her. She blinked, bringing their faces into focus. „The names of King’s victims were never released. They were minors. The arresting officers knew and the lawyers knew and the jury knew. I forgot about the jury.“ From her briefcase she pulled out the printouts she made during the night. „Here’s
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