information the autopsy had revealed. The victim had been murdered. According to the report, the victim had sustained a gunshot wound to the chest. The buckshot had shattered the left ribcage, most likely tearing directly into the heart muscle. She'd died instantly.
The fact that he now officially had a murder on his hands changed everything. He'd have to get the underwater crews back. The quarry and the woods around the upper lip of the quarry would have to be searched for evidence. Time had probably eradicated most of the evidence, but the search would occur nonetheless.
Mitch leaned back in his office chair. His first thought was of Kelsey. This information wouldn't sit well with her. After last night, his sloppy reminder of their past had shaken her fragile hold on serenity. He had wanted to clear the air but had only managed to muck things up more.
His phone buzzed and a green light blinked as Mabel's voice shot through the phone. "Mitch?"
"Yep?"
"The pathologist is on line one."
"Thanks."
Mitch's hand hovered over the black phone. He snatched it up. "Dave."
"Hey, Mitch." Dr. Dave Wilder had been a pathologist with the state for almost thirty years. He saw mostly accidents, but had handled hundreds of murders.
"What you got for me?"
"The body is definitely Donna Warren. I just reviewed the dental records. Granted, the victim's teeth were badly damaged, but I had a set of X-rays from a checkup Donna had had about twenty-seven years ago. They show a distinct overbite, two cavities on the back left molar and a chip on the front left incisor."
His first thought was for Kelsey. "Any other signs of trauma?"
"No skeletal signs. I can tell you that she was shot at close range. Less than five feet, maybe."
"Someone she knew." He didn't realize he'd spoken out loud.
Dave chuckled. "That's for you to find out. I've got more tests to run and if I come up with anything unexpected, I'll give you a call."
"Thanks, Dave." Mitch hung up the phone. He rose and walked to the small window. The sky was crystal-blue.
There was a knock at his door. He turned to see Mabel standing just inside his office, her yellow pad in hand. "Mitch?"
"Yeah?"
"Patrol just radioed in. They've found a car on the side of I-81."
"Okay, why do they need my input?"
"The car belongs to a Chris Hensel."
"Stu's partner?"
"Yeah."
Mitch got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Any sign of Chris?"
"No. No signs of struggle. Just the car, parked on the side of the road as if it belonged there."
"Mabel, tell the officers to keep this quiet. I don't want a lot of people traipsing around there. I've got enough thrill-seekers trying to get onto the quarry land."
"So what should they do?"
"Have them conduct a thorough search of the area. I want to make damn sure Chris isn't nearby. Tell them to treat it like a crime scene. Gloves, evidence kit, the works. And call the state prison and see if they can lend a team with bloodhounds."
"Will do."
The front door to the station house banged open and closed, rattling the glass entry wall. Irritated, Mitch stepped out of his office, loaded for bear.
Standing in the entryway was Boyd Randall. He wore khakis, a bright yellow shirt and golf shoes. The shoes' spikes clicked across the floor as he marched toward Mitch. "Any word on the body?"
Mitch turned to Mabel. "Go ahead and radio patrol."
"Consider it done," she said.
Mitch motioned his hand toward his office. "In my office."
Boyd marched inside and took a seat in front of Mitch's desk. He crossed his leg over the other and tapped his knee. "Any updates on that body?"
Mitch closed the door. "All evidence suggests that the body is Donna."
Tension tightened his face. "Have you run DNA?"
He sat behind his desk. "It'll be a couple of weeks on that, but the dental records were positive."
Boyd sighed. "The last damn thing I need is a murder. It's not going to look good."
Mitch leaned forward. "Why the interest?"
"Let's just say an investigation
The fact that he now officially had a murder on his hands changed everything. He'd have to get the underwater crews back. The quarry and the woods around the upper lip of the quarry would have to be searched for evidence. Time had probably eradicated most of the evidence, but the search would occur nonetheless.
Mitch leaned back in his office chair. His first thought was of Kelsey. This information wouldn't sit well with her. After last night, his sloppy reminder of their past had shaken her fragile hold on serenity. He had wanted to clear the air but had only managed to muck things up more.
His phone buzzed and a green light blinked as Mabel's voice shot through the phone. "Mitch?"
"Yep?"
"The pathologist is on line one."
"Thanks."
Mitch's hand hovered over the black phone. He snatched it up. "Dave."
"Hey, Mitch." Dr. Dave Wilder had been a pathologist with the state for almost thirty years. He saw mostly accidents, but had handled hundreds of murders.
"What you got for me?"
"The body is definitely Donna Warren. I just reviewed the dental records. Granted, the victim's teeth were badly damaged, but I had a set of X-rays from a checkup Donna had had about twenty-seven years ago. They show a distinct overbite, two cavities on the back left molar and a chip on the front left incisor."
His first thought was for Kelsey. "Any other signs of trauma?"
"No skeletal signs. I can tell you that she was shot at close range. Less than five feet, maybe."
"Someone she knew." He didn't realize he'd spoken out loud.
Dave chuckled. "That's for you to find out. I've got more tests to run and if I come up with anything unexpected, I'll give you a call."
"Thanks, Dave." Mitch hung up the phone. He rose and walked to the small window. The sky was crystal-blue.
There was a knock at his door. He turned to see Mabel standing just inside his office, her yellow pad in hand. "Mitch?"
"Yeah?"
"Patrol just radioed in. They've found a car on the side of I-81."
"Okay, why do they need my input?"
"The car belongs to a Chris Hensel."
"Stu's partner?"
"Yeah."
Mitch got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Any sign of Chris?"
"No. No signs of struggle. Just the car, parked on the side of the road as if it belonged there."
"Mabel, tell the officers to keep this quiet. I don't want a lot of people traipsing around there. I've got enough thrill-seekers trying to get onto the quarry land."
"So what should they do?"
"Have them conduct a thorough search of the area. I want to make damn sure Chris isn't nearby. Tell them to treat it like a crime scene. Gloves, evidence kit, the works. And call the state prison and see if they can lend a team with bloodhounds."
"Will do."
The front door to the station house banged open and closed, rattling the glass entry wall. Irritated, Mitch stepped out of his office, loaded for bear.
Standing in the entryway was Boyd Randall. He wore khakis, a bright yellow shirt and golf shoes. The shoes' spikes clicked across the floor as he marched toward Mitch. "Any word on the body?"
Mitch turned to Mabel. "Go ahead and radio patrol."
"Consider it done," she said.
Mitch motioned his hand toward his office. "In my office."
Boyd marched inside and took a seat in front of Mitch's desk. He crossed his leg over the other and tapped his knee. "Any updates on that body?"
Mitch closed the door. "All evidence suggests that the body is Donna."
Tension tightened his face. "Have you run DNA?"
He sat behind his desk. "It'll be a couple of weeks on that, but the dental records were positive."
Boyd sighed. "The last damn thing I need is a murder. It's not going to look good."
Mitch leaned forward. "Why the interest?"
"Let's just say an investigation
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