driver’s license and Kaiser medical card. “Strange things for a jogger to carry around with her.”
“Not entirely,” said Sinclair. “Older guys do it all the time. Jogger has a heart attack or accident, they know who she is and where to take her.”
Braddock slid under the tape and joined the group surrounding the corpse. “You beat me here again,” she said to Sinclair.
“I was closer.”
Braddock smiled knowingly.
“Here’s something else interesting,” said Dawson, running his hand over purplish coloring on the back of the legs. “Appears to be postmortem lividity, but not fully developed.”
“Which means?” asked Braddock.
“The body was in a sitting position with the legs extended, sort of like someone sitting on a bed, for at least several hours after death,” said Dawson. “If the body was in a chair or on that bench, for example, with the feet lower, the blood would pool into the lower legs. But that’s only a guess. The doc’ll have to say for sure.”
“You mind if we hold onto the ID cards?” asked Sinclair. “I want to get them printed.”
“No prob. Just get me all the info.”
Talbert held out a plastic envelope and Dawson dropped the cards inside.
Sinclair copied the pertinent information into his notebook. “The woman’s got a Lafayette address.”
“Another rich place,” said Dawson. “Just like the Danville boy.”
“I live there,” said Sinclair “And I’m sure as hell not rich.”
“Yeah, right,” said Dawson. “I know how much overtime you homicide dicks get.”
Dawson rolled the body back over and placed paper bags over the hands. “Broken nail on the right hand. Maybe she scratched him and got some DNA.”
Dawson removed a medallion that was hanging around her neck and dropped it into a bag his partner was holding.
“Wait a minute,” said Sinclair. “Let me see that.”
The pendant was a peace sign about the size of a half-dollar and made out of sterling silver or silver-plated. It hung from a cheap-looking chain.
“Didn’t the boy have one of these?” asked Sinclair.
Dawson shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m sure of it,” said Talbert as she punched buttons on her camera. “Look.”
Sinclair, Braddock, and Dawson peered at the LCD display—the same medallion against the background of a black T-shirt.
Sinclair knew the moment he got the call that two bodies at the exact same place in two days was no coincidence. The medallion verified it. The cheap jewelry didn’t match the rest of her appearance. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise.
Sinclair and Braddock stepped back as the coroner investigators brought out a gurney and packaged the corpse.
“Can you run it down for me—when you arrived, who told you what?” asked Braddock.
“I know you’re up and would normally be primary, but this is definitely linked to the Caldwell case,” he told Braddock. “That makes this mine too.”
Sinclair read the disappointment in Braddock’s face. She didn’t see it as dodging a bullet. “But, hey, we’re a team,” he said. “So we win or lose together.”
Beck broke in. “One of my officers has something that may interest you.”
They moved to the other side of the yellow tape, where a young black officer with a cherub face stood.
Officer Rose said, “This might be nothing, but a half hour before we were dispatched on this, I got a call on a nine-four-nine vehicle two blocks away. The caller was a neighbor who said she lives next door to a drug house, and a black van circled the block for ten minutes and then stopped in front of the house. I figure that if I were a killer and wanted to transport bodies, a van would be a perfect vehicle for it.”
“Makes sense,” said Sinclair. “Did she get a license number?”
“It came back to a Tyrone Hayes with an address over on Adeline.”
“I know Hayes,” said Braddock. “Big man. Gentle smile, soft spoken, but mean as hell. He did time for a series of rapes
“Not entirely,” said Sinclair. “Older guys do it all the time. Jogger has a heart attack or accident, they know who she is and where to take her.”
Braddock slid under the tape and joined the group surrounding the corpse. “You beat me here again,” she said to Sinclair.
“I was closer.”
Braddock smiled knowingly.
“Here’s something else interesting,” said Dawson, running his hand over purplish coloring on the back of the legs. “Appears to be postmortem lividity, but not fully developed.”
“Which means?” asked Braddock.
“The body was in a sitting position with the legs extended, sort of like someone sitting on a bed, for at least several hours after death,” said Dawson. “If the body was in a chair or on that bench, for example, with the feet lower, the blood would pool into the lower legs. But that’s only a guess. The doc’ll have to say for sure.”
“You mind if we hold onto the ID cards?” asked Sinclair. “I want to get them printed.”
“No prob. Just get me all the info.”
Talbert held out a plastic envelope and Dawson dropped the cards inside.
Sinclair copied the pertinent information into his notebook. “The woman’s got a Lafayette address.”
“Another rich place,” said Dawson. “Just like the Danville boy.”
“I live there,” said Sinclair “And I’m sure as hell not rich.”
“Yeah, right,” said Dawson. “I know how much overtime you homicide dicks get.”
Dawson rolled the body back over and placed paper bags over the hands. “Broken nail on the right hand. Maybe she scratched him and got some DNA.”
Dawson removed a medallion that was hanging around her neck and dropped it into a bag his partner was holding.
“Wait a minute,” said Sinclair. “Let me see that.”
The pendant was a peace sign about the size of a half-dollar and made out of sterling silver or silver-plated. It hung from a cheap-looking chain.
“Didn’t the boy have one of these?” asked Sinclair.
Dawson shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m sure of it,” said Talbert as she punched buttons on her camera. “Look.”
Sinclair, Braddock, and Dawson peered at the LCD display—the same medallion against the background of a black T-shirt.
Sinclair knew the moment he got the call that two bodies at the exact same place in two days was no coincidence. The medallion verified it. The cheap jewelry didn’t match the rest of her appearance. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise.
Sinclair and Braddock stepped back as the coroner investigators brought out a gurney and packaged the corpse.
“Can you run it down for me—when you arrived, who told you what?” asked Braddock.
“I know you’re up and would normally be primary, but this is definitely linked to the Caldwell case,” he told Braddock. “That makes this mine too.”
Sinclair read the disappointment in Braddock’s face. She didn’t see it as dodging a bullet. “But, hey, we’re a team,” he said. “So we win or lose together.”
Beck broke in. “One of my officers has something that may interest you.”
They moved to the other side of the yellow tape, where a young black officer with a cherub face stood.
Officer Rose said, “This might be nothing, but a half hour before we were dispatched on this, I got a call on a nine-four-nine vehicle two blocks away. The caller was a neighbor who said she lives next door to a drug house, and a black van circled the block for ten minutes and then stopped in front of the house. I figure that if I were a killer and wanted to transport bodies, a van would be a perfect vehicle for it.”
“Makes sense,” said Sinclair. “Did she get a license number?”
“It came back to a Tyrone Hayes with an address over on Adeline.”
“I know Hayes,” said Braddock. “Big man. Gentle smile, soft spoken, but mean as hell. He did time for a series of rapes
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