“Body dump,” Sam said. “Staged scene but we got what we could.”
Lucy trotted ahead toward the squad room, nails clicking on the worn hardwood. Major sat atop the filing cabinet, tail swishing slowly as he watched them file in.
Jo dropped into her chair and pulled out the evidence bags. The fabric sample went into the log first—time, location, chain of custody. Then the photos Kevin had taken, each one labeled and catalogued.
Kevin dropped into his chair across from her, already pulling up the database on his computer. “I’ll see if I can get any missing persons reports that might match our victim.”
“Good.” Sam leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Jo, can you start putting together a timeline? We need to figure out when the body was moved and where the actual murder scene is.”
“On it.”
Sam’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, frowned, then headed toward his office. “ME’s calling. I’ll take this.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Jo turned to her computer, pulling up a blank timeline document.
Kevin’s fingers flew across the keyboard, his focus absolute. Major stretched and resettled, one eye cracked open in her direction.
Time of death: estimated between midnight and 2 AM.
Body discovered: 9:47 AM by civilian hiker.
Two dump locations: initial site 30 feet from discovery point.
She typed mechanically, building the framework. Facts. Evidence. The things she could prove.
The afternoon crawled.
Hours passed in the slow grind of paperwork and phone calls. Kevin worked his way through database after database, cross-referencing fiber samples. Jo built timelines, checked and rechecked witness statements, called the ME’s office twice for updates that hadn’t come yet.
Lunch came and went—someone ordered sandwiches that sat half-eaten on desks. The coffee pot emptied and refilled. Major shifted positions on his perch, sunlight tracking across the filing cabinet as the afternoon wore on.
By five-thirty, the light outside had started to fade.
Across from her, Kevin muttered something about thread counts.
Lucy settled near Sam’s office door, head on her paws, ears still forward. Alert even at rest.
The station phone rang. Reese’s voice drifted through the open door, professional and efficient.
Sam’s office door opened. He stepped out, phone still in hand, expression grim.
“ME confirmed blunt force trauma. Multiple impacts. Says whoever did it knew what they were doing.”
Kevin looked up from his screen. “Professional hit?”
“Maybe. Or someone who’s done this before.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re running tox screens, checking for defensive wounds. Should have more in a few hours.”
Jo saved her timeline and stood. “I’m going to grab coffee. Anyone want a cup?”
“I’m good,” Kevin said, eyes back on his monitor.
Sam shook his head. “Thanks though.”
She headed for the coffee machine, put in a K-cup and stood there staring at the wall while the machine did its thing.
Her phone buzzed.