He didn’t seem to know what to say to that and let us pass. It didn’t buy me a lot of time, but it bought me a little, and I was determined to make every second count. I glanced back at Taye Diggs who shook his head but didn’t try to stop me.
Maddie approached a young male who was hunched over the dead woman’s body collecting various tidbits of evidence.
“What do you got for me?” she said.
“From what I can tell, the victim appears to have been killed less than twenty-four hours ago, and it looks like her wounds are an identical match to the woman that was killed the other day. Everything matches up except the number of lacerations to her thigh.”
I leaned in and counted them. There were five this time.
“Do we have a name?” Maddie said.
“She had an ID card from a university not far from here in her back pocket. Her name is Sasha Winters.”
“She looks a little old to be a university student.”
A car drove up and parked and out stepped public enemy number one and two.
“Uh-oh,” Maddie said. “Get ready for an ass-chewing sandwich.”
I retrieved my cell phone from my pocket with haste and snapped some photos of the victim and the crime scene and then slid it back into my pocket.
“Why is it that wherever I go, you seem to follow?” Coop said.
“I was with Maddie when she got the call.”
“And that makes it alright?” he said.
“It makes it the truth.”
“Here’s some truth for you—I want you out of here. Now.”
I looked over at Nick whose crossed arms told me all I needed to know about where he stood in all of it, and then I turned toward Maddie.
“I’ll catch a ride back to my lab with one of my guys,” she said. “You go on.”
“Call me later?” I said.
She smiled and nodded.
Coop frowned and Maddie gave him a hard stare and then looked back and me and said, “You bet I will.”
CHAPTER 17
The next morning I reappeared at the crime scene, but the difference was the body wasn’t there and everything had been cleaned up and life at the park was back to usual. It was hard to tell anything happened there at all. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for or why anything of any significance would have been left behind, but I wanted to explore the area anyway. It was of particular interest to me that the killer dropped his bodies off in the same place he picked them up. He was bold, and had one mad pair of cojones. That much I knew.
Maddie called me the night before with some privileged information she’d been given about the victim. The girl had gone to the park the night before to study, like she often did during the week. Her mother told the police that there was a specific bench she liked to sit on so they dusted it for prints, but I knew Sinnerman’s wouldn’t be among them. I sat on the bench and scanned the area and wondered if he watched her and for how long. I envisioned him hunkered down somewhere while he watched and waited, and I searched around to see if I could find the most likely spot. Some nine or so yards away, the leaves on a lofty oak tree sprawled out in all directions across a pale blue sky. It was the only one of its kind in the immediate area and the perfect place to disguise oneself.
I approached the tree and crouched down and scanned the ground that surrounded me. There were no footprints, but there was a patch of dirt that appeared to have been smoothed over by something, like it didn’t belong with the sediment around it. In my stooped position, I had a clear view of the bench. I stayed there for a few minutes and absorbed the scene and then withdrew my phone from my pocket and took a picture of it. I didn’t know why; it just seemed like it was the right thing to do. I tilted the lens downward and zoomed in and snapped a photo of the disheveled patch of the dirt. The more I looked at it, the more I noticed something odd. The dirt around it was undisturbed and looked like it had been for quite some time.
I brushed the rough patch of dirt back and forth with my hand. It was loose, and in no time, I’d dug a good three inches at least. I extracted the mound of dirt into my hand and stared down into the miniature hole I’d formed. I felt like a kid in grade school who had nothing better to do to pass the time at recess. I tilted my hand to the side and watched the dirt tumble back into the hole and with it, a little piece of debris about the size of a nickel dropped into the hole as well. It was dirty and crumpled and had been folded at least five times to get it to its current size. I scooped it out of the hole and opened it.
I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE BETTER THAN THEM.
THAT IS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU.
YOU DON’T THINK LIKE A COP.
YOURS ALWAYS, SINNERMAN
P.S. YOU’RE GETTING WARMER.
Did he mean them—the guys on the case, or them—the women. Or both?
“Excuse me,” a voice said, “are you a cop?”
I stood up and came face to face with a woman dressed in a pair of fluorescent yellow shorts and a tank top that was cut so low I caught more than a glimpse of what a little breast enhancement can do for a person. On her eyes she donned a pair of hot pink sunglasses which hid a fraction of her face from me.
“Something like that,” I said.
“I feel just awful about what happened to that poor young woman yesterday,” she said.
And yet, here she was parading herself around like a nosy tourist.
Taye Diggs approached from the right. I tried to indicate that I didn’t need him, but he charged forward anyway. I made a fist with my right hand and concealed the note I’d found within my palm. This one was mine.
I looked at the woman.
“Is there something I can do for you?” I said.
“Actually, there is,” she said. “After I got home last night, I got to thinking about everything, and I thought I might be able to help.”
“How’s that?” I said.
“I might be able to give you a description.”
I looked at Taye and tried to restrain the urge I felt to give him a high five. We both stared back at her, speechless.
“Were you at the park last night?” I said.
She nodded.
“Around what time?”
“Oh, I got here about a quarter to eight and then went around the track a couple times and then went home. You see, I don’t usually come out to the park. I like to get my workouts in at home, but a couple days ago my treadmill broke. I bought another one, but my husband has been too busy to set it up for me, and I’m too small to lift it.”
I wondered how long she would go on with her personal life story if I didn’t stop her.
“Did you see anyone or anything suspicious while you were here?” I said.
She nodded again.
“I saw a strange man.”
“Where?” I said.
“When I was running.”
“On the track?” I said.
“That’s right. He ran beside me for a minute.”
This was the first time in Sinnerman’s history that there was an actual sighting—if it turned out to be true. Could he have slipped up?
“He talked to you?” I said.
“Not in so many words,” she said. “But he did say hello and mentioned something about the weather we were having that day and how summer was his favorite season of the year. He was going on and on about the arts festival—you know the one where people display their paintings on Main Street?”
“Yeah—that was a couple months ago. Anything else?”
“When he finished, I looked over to respond, and he frowned at me and took off.”
It wasn’t hard for me to see why. She wasn’t his type. From behind, he may not have known it, but once he got close, he wouldn’t have chosen her. I was sure of it.